(TW suicide mentions and suicide baiting. TW terminal agitation. TW religious abuse.)
Hero. Hero. Hero. Hero. Hero.
Kel kept on repeating his brother's name in his head, eyes fixed on him as he was dealt that final blow. Sally was too afraid to look in his direction, hiding her face away in Hero's neck. When the doctors uttered the words six weeks his grip on her tightened, his eyes squeezing shut. Their father staggered off not long after the doctors left, locking himself in the en-suite bathroom for over half an hour. That's okay—when you gotta go, you gotta go, Kel tried telling himself.
"It's okay, baby," his mother cooed. She was half-seated on his hospital bed, holding his head to her chest. He supposed if he was going to cry anywhere, it ought to be there, and yet no tears came. "The doctors we first saw thought it was the end, too, but they were wrong. We can still go to the city. We still have options."
For their sake, Kel was still willing to try. He couldn't speak around his intubation and was so soggy he probably wouldn't have been able to form words anyway, so he leaned into her chest, nodding just so, enough for her to understand he would submit to whatever made everyone feel better.
He had no secrets to tell, and yet, that's all Brainscape was: a labyrinth that weaved out endlessly, lined with floating T.V.'s that relayed his memories back to him. They varied in size and shape. The giant screens projected his happiest memories, like how he helped carry Faraway High to the semi-regionals his first season in or when he almost crashed his car into Hobbiez when he was still learning how to drive. He saw picnics on those screens, hanging out in the treehouse, beetle hunting, running through the park. He could watch those memories forever, but the connection was shitty, flickering on and off.
There were also smaller screens, the things only a few people knew, like how upset he'd been when his mother announced her twilight pregnancy; how adrift he was after their group's collapse; how worried he'd been about Spooney, and how he drove the concern to the back of his mind because he didn't want to weigh anyone down with his unfounded paranoia. Those memories trailed behind him as he explored Brainscape, voices warped and taunting.
And then there were the faded-out screens carried information Kel never volunteered to anyone—like how, in the first year after Mari's death, he would visit the cemetery every week and lie down on her grave. He tried to imagine what it must be like down there, trapped in the dark underground. How did Sunny feel knowing his sister elected to leave him in such a horrifying way, in a spot he was certain to find? Why would she abandon them like that? Didn't she love them as much as they loved her?
…he wasn't sure how they ended up in Brainscape, but it was no great loss. It had more room to breathe than in Lung Peaks, anyway.
And they finally caught up with Sunny! He, Aubrey and Basil saw him perched at the top of Brainscape's tallest mountain, far out of their reach. He paid them no mind, looking back and forth between his sketchbook and the sky above, mapping out the illuminated patterns overhead. The sky's pulsing brain activity was like a giant, glowing spider web. He hoped it wouldn't freak Hero out.
Kel took a look around. Where was Hero, anyway?
"Hey," Sunny texted the next morning.
Kel began to type out Im in the hospital but erased it. "Arent you in class?"
Sunny sent him a picture of an open spiral notebook, filled with notes in his signature chicken scratch. He was still in the eleventh grade, a super-senior Kel would have ripped on if he hadn't known all that came behind it. "I AM in class :P"
He rolled his eyes. "Then pay attention! Get good grades! PROFIT!"
"Wow. Im lucky to have such a good influence in my life."
Kel wanted to cry. "Im luckier! :D"
"*_*"
He put his phone on the hospital nightstand. It vibrated twice more before falling silent.
Hero walked into the room. He guzzled the last of his dollar store coffee and tossed the cup in the trash, wiping his mouth clean on the back of his sleeve. No amount of caffeine could mask the dark rings beneath his eyes. "How are you feeling?"
He was so sick of everyone asking him that. How was he even supposed to respond? He smiled as best he could around the thick tube in his mouth, giving a thumbs up.
His brother sat to his left, occupying the space his leg once took up. "Are you sure?"
No. Kel nodded.
"Okay." He placed his hand over Kel's. "Do you want me to pick anyone up today, bring them over to see you?"
He shrugged, looking up at the ceiling's stucco pattern. Something about the style had always made him uneasy, in the same way Basil hated clusters of small holes and bumps. Something about it screamed disease.
"You still have time to decide." He paused. "No pressure, though. You don't have to see anyone today."
But he should see them, right? He should spend as much time with his friends as possible, before…
Hero's squeezed his hand. Kel blinked several times, bringing himself back. "Is there anything I can do?"
No, there wasn't a single thing Hero could do.
He took out his phone and opened the notes app. "Why don't you type out what you want to say here?"
Kel was tired, he didn't want to have this conversation, but his thumbs slid across the digital screen anyway. "How am I gonna get everything done in 6 weeks?"
Hero's eyebrows shot up. "Listen to me. You are not going to die in six weeks."
"Yeah," he typed. "Maybe sooner. "
"Kel…" Hero drifted off when he saw his brother was still typing.
"I know I cant give up. Im not allowed to die." His trembling thumbs hovered over the keyboard. The words on the screen blurred together as he went on. "But I feel bad. Like a failure. I keep getting worse and let everyone down."
"You're not letting anyone down. Look at me." Hero hooked his thumb beneath Kel's chin and lifted it. "No matter what happens, I'm already so, so proud of you. We all are."
Kel rubbed his eyes. "Dont get sappy."
"I guess the truth is sappy now." Hero chuckled, wrapping his arms around Kel's shoulders and leaning in close to hold him.
Hero offered to tell Aubrey and Basil the news in his stead. He hadn't actually expected Kel to give him the green light, much less nod as enthusiastically as he did, but now here he was, parked outside Faraway High School. He wanted to throw up as soon as he saw them filter out with the rest of the students, Aubrey's freshly-dyed crop of pink hair standing out against the crowd. Basil followed closely behind.
"Hey, guys!" He honked his horn once and waved them forward. "Get in!"
"Aw shit Basil, it finally happened. Some pervert in a busted-up car is trying to kidnap us."
"Don't say that!" Basil laughed nervously.
"Well, what other reason would Hero have to pick us up from school?" She stared at Hero as she said it. "You'd think he'd be too busy taking care of Kel."
He knew what Aubrey was doing here. "Just get in the car," he repeated.
He could already see Basil holding back tears as he climbed into the backseat. Aubrey, taking the passengers, refused to look at him.
He parked near a construction site two miles away from the school. "There was an incident last night."
"Jesus help me." Aubrey pressed her clenched fist to her lips, staring pensively out the window at the half-done building outside.
"The tumors in his lungs were obstructing his breathing."
"Tumors?" Basil stared Hero down, eyes as wide and round as the moon. "I thought he only had one lung tumor."
"There are more now."
"So the treatment didn't work," Aubrey mumbled. "He went and got the life sucked out of him for nothing."
Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying. "We got him to the hospital. He's awake now, alert. He's been through a lot in the past twenty-four hours, so he wanted me to be the one to tell you. The doctors said he has six weeks."
Basil slowly leaned forward, his face void of emotion. "Six weeks for what?"
"We're not giving up. I'm going to contact my old professors tonight, see if there's a trial we can get him into."
"Six weeks for what."
"Mom wants to take him to some naturalists out in Harrisburg."
"Six weeks for what."
"My dad's coworker is married to a faith healing pastor. He was talking about bringing them over."
"Six—"
"Goddamn it, goddamn you, you know what it means!"
Aubrey kept her face turned to the window, occasionally wiping her cheeks. Basil's expression did not shift—not even after Hero yelled at him, not even when Aubrey lost control and the car filled with the sounds of her sobs.
Aubrey and Basil went to visit him three days later.
Basil brought him an arrangement of cactuses, the one plant even Kel could take care of. He'd grown them from the seed, a long-thought-out gift he originally intended to celebrate his remission. Aubrey brought him a ton of balloons, all in the warm tones Kel favored, and on the way there it struck her that they may be in bad taste. But Kel was simple, and the balloons made him happy. He had Hero placed them by the T.V., right in his line of view.
After a while searching, Kel came across his ugliest memory of all.
Their parents had called Hero down to the living room—just Hero, though Kel watched from afar, hiding crouched down behind the stair railing. He knew something was wrong on account of the blaring red and blue lights outside. It had to be an ambulance caught in traffic, right? It wasn't for them, and it couldn't be stationed outside Sunny and Mari's house…
There was no way to break the news gently, so they told him as plainly as they could: Sunny and Basil found Mari hanging from her favorite tree in the backyard.
Hero laughed. This was a joke, right? An awful, tasteless joke? He was pleading, begging for what they said to just be in jest, something he could be angry over in the moment but ultimately relieved wasn't true. "Mari's not… no. I just saw her this morning."
"I'm sorry, sweetie," was all their mother said.
The memory cut out to Hero on the floor, on his hands and knees. Kel wanted to claw up the walls, scale the ceiling, melt beneath the floorboards—anything to escape his brother's screaming. He rocked back and forth, coughing and gasping, the smell of his vomit sweetening the air. Their mother anchored him in place with her body while their father was kneeled before him, gripping his shoulders, whatever he said buried beneath Hero's inhuman wailing.
Even if Kel lived to be one hundred, even if he developed dementia and everything important slipped past him like water held in a pair of cupped hands, he knew he'd never forget this. The illuminated television screen glowed prettily for miles and miles.
"I can't do this," Hero moaned, voice echoing out. Static crowded the edges of the memory. "Kill me, just kill me. I just wanna die—"
While Kel slept their mother would talk about how things would be when he came home—how she hoped he wouldn't feel bad about completing high school a year later than his friends, about getting him a prosthetic, about him possibly playing basketball again someday? And naturally, Hero wanted all those things as well, but did she completely block out what happened last week?
Their father spent more and more hours at work, only ever facetiming Kel for around ten minutes a day. Did he also convince himself what was happening was not, in fact, happening? Did he think their time with Kel was unlimited?
Between their schedules and their denial, it fell on Hero to stay with Kel in the hospital overnight and through most of the day. He knew he wouldn't be going home any time soon, which was fine. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he went anywhere else.
Sunny was supposed to be coming over that weekend. Kel waited until Friday evening to text him what happened.
"Im in the hospital."
Sunny called not a minute later, and Kel allowed the call to go to voicemail. Another call. Voicemail. A third. Voicemail.
"Pick up."
"Cant talk rn."
"OK what happened."
Kel explained the situation in one long, unbroken paragraph. He expected another slew of phone calls or spam texts; the silence that actually followed made him anxious, but he couldn't name why.
Sunny arrived at the hospital the next morning, jumpy from the espresso he had on the way over. He knew no amount of caffeine could hide a sleepless night, and just hoped Kel wouldn't notice.
His mom usually chauffeured him to and from Faraway on the weekends, but this time he took the train to avoid the detours she was prone to. He made it there just as the sun was peeking up into the sky. The night shift had just ended; off-duty workers were milling about, having their morning cigarettes, grabbing last-minute snacks from the cafeteria for the commute home. The Sunny of one year ago would have simply ignored his hunger for as long as possible, but he was different now. He bought a muffin big enough to share in case Kel was in the mood to test his luck.
A year and a half had passed since he'd last been in Faraway Hospital for the fight with Basil that cost him the vision in his left eye. The eye itself looked much the same as it always had, and he decided to never tell Basil the extent of the damage. It was how he was able to forgive Kel for keeping his cancer from him for so long—it hurt, but he understood. It was in Kel's nature to protect.
When Kel texted I cant talk rn Sunny assumed it was because his parents were in the room, or he was meeting with some medical professional, or was even just too tired to talk. He didn't expect for him to be physically incapable of it. When he entered the room Kel was still asleep, his chest rising and dipping from the air artificially inflated into him. Sunny took a seat by his side, silently picking at his muffin.
Kel tossed the memory into the heap of barely-flickering television screens that made up that lost year. He didn't want to see anymore.
He needed to find Hero.
Maybe Sunny knew? Surely, he could see everything from his vantage point, up from on high as he was. Kel set off to go meet him.
They spent the entire weekend together, convincing the staff he was family so he could spend the night. He was even able to be there to see his ventilator replaced with a standard breathing tube, freeing his voice up and allowing him to close his mouth for the first time in a week.
"I'll be texting," he said as he buttoned his coat that Sunday evening. "Answer me, when you can."
Kel smiled. He wanted to see Sunny off properly, but even nodding took a near-herculean effort.
Sunny bent down, touching Kel's right knee. He suddenly got the sense that if he still had both his legs, Sunny would have simply sat on his lap; a part of him wanted to suggest he still try. "Can I ask you something?"
He nodded.
"Would it be alright if I kissed you?"
Kel couldn't help himself—he laughed, so naturally that it took almost no effort at all. "Why?" he croaked, voice still raspy.
"Because I want to."
He had never been kissed before. It wasn't that he avoided it, he just never had the opportunity. It embarrassed him that Sunny would suggest doing it now. "You don't have to."
"I know." The door to his room was slightly ajar; anyone could come in and see them. "I wanted to over the weekend before I moved, but you know I was dealing with a lot. You were so tall and gallant… even better than a dream. Who wouldn't want to be close to you?"
Damn, why are you telling me this now? Sunny pulled away when he saw his expression shift from bemused to frustrated, but Kel grabbed his hand. "You mean that?"
"Yes."
Kel nodded and pulled him forward.
Sunny kissed his left cheek.
Oh.
Sunny kissed his right cheek.
Oh?
Sunny kissed his forehead.
Oh!
Kel was already cracking up by the time he got through his neck, shoulders, elbows and hands. He didn't stop when Sunny came back up, giggling closed-mouthed behind his first kiss.
The same grotesque monsters who ruined The Bone Palace and invaded Tummy World and made life impossible in Lung Peaks had begun popping up around Brainscape.
Aubrey and Basil helped him fight them off, but it still took them days to climb up the mountain Sunny was on. They would call to him for help when battling a particularly tough amalgamation, but he never seemed to notice, keeping his sights on the sky. When they came to the top Kel could see that Sunny wasn't so much on a mountain, but on the edge of a cliff, legs dangling over the edge.
The cliff made him anxious, but he couldn't name why.
His other friends were gone. He placed a hand on Sunny's shoulder. "Hey—"
"Can I ask you something? What do you think brought you here?" Sunny did not wait for his response, turning to face him. "I'll tell you what. It's the monsters, right? The disease turning your body against itself? It's ruined everything except your mind, but even that isn't safe, is it?"
Sunny was the baby of the group but here he was, a teenager as opposed to a child. He gestured blithely at the raggedy monsters below, teething and crying all over his television screens. Kel wanted them to stop, knew he was the only one who could make them stop, but how many did he fight on his way up here? For every one they took down, five more spawned in their place.
Sunny waved him forward. "Come, look at this."
Kel did as he was told—he could trust Sunny, right? Sunny was such a good listener, and he fed stray animals, and he drew such pretty pictures, and he smelled so nice, and—
"Look down here."
He pointed to the deep abyss below, it's inky black and creeping up to meet him.
"You're looking for Hero, right?"
Kel suddenly didn't want to hear any more, but Sunny gripped his shoulder, nails growing long and sharp enough to pierce Kel's skin and hold him in place.
"Watching you waste away broke him. I tried to stop him from jumping, but his despair was too much for him to overcome."
No. No way. Hero loved him too much—
"Yes, Hero loves you way too much." The whites of Sunny's eyes shifted to red, his round irises morphing into slits. "As do all your friends, who would have been better served abandoning you to your fate! But no, they've endured stabbing bones and mindless beasts and acid rain and asphyxiation, all just to stay by your side! Losing Mari drove us all to the edge—you know that better than anyone, and yet you still had the gall to get sick. How dare you do this to us!"
He wished he really was the afterthought he always thought himself to be. He didn't want his death to kill Hero, to destroy his parents and his friends and everyone else who cared about him.
"At least what I did to my sister was an accident. How many months did you squander hoping Spooney would just go away? Did you even want to live?"
Sunny was right. This was all his fault.
"It's a little late for tears now, isn't it?" Sunny pushed him forward. "The only thing left to do is kill yourself. You're going to hurt everyone, anyway. Might as well get it over with."
He should go join Hero, right? It was only fair. But Kel didn't want to die—
Sunny's mouth split open into a terrible smile, a thousand and one black teeth spread out wide. He shoved Kel over the edge.
"Kel! Kel!"
Someone was shaking his shoulder. Basil was a few inches away from his face, mouth curved into a small frown. Aubrey stood at the foot of his bed.
"It looked like you were having a nightmare," she explained.
A nightmare? But it was daytime. The concept of a nightmare during the day made him anxious.
"Everything's going to be alright." Basil was stroking his forehead. "You're safe. None of it was real."
But it felt real, so how could it not be? He shrank away from Basil's touch.
"Where's mom and dad?" he asked one night during his second week in.
Hero was on the phone, talking to someone about a trial? He thought Hero wanted to be a doctor, not a lawyer. Weird. "Hold on a moment." He pulled his cell away from his ear. "I told you, they're coming tomorrow."
He finished his call a few minutes later, so Kel thought he might as well ask. "When are mom and dad coming?"
"Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"You're scaring me."
Hero was scared? His eyes were pretty glossy. Kel looked around, saw no spiders or monsters around—just a plain white room. The lights were really bright, even though it was dark outside. Unnatural. He asked Hero if he could turn off the lights.
The room was pitch-dark save for the glow of the machines he was hooked to. "I miss mom and dad."
Hero was seated beside him, curled up in a blanket provided to him by the hospital staff. "They miss you, too."
"When are they coming?"
"I'm not telling you again," he snapped.
Did this mean they weren't coming to visit? Kel supposed that was for the best—they were behind on the bills, Sally was past two but had yet to take her first steps or say her first words, and Hero needed to be talked into going back to college. Mom and dad had better things to do.
It was okay.
"Kel? Hey—c'mon, don't cry."
Cry? Things were a little cloudy. He blinked the water away.
"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you." He sighed. "They're coming tomorrow."
What Kel said next made Hero's hair stand on end.
"Who's coming tomorrow?"
Kel wasn't eligible for any of the trials being held at Hero's old university, and he would need to recover well enough to be discharged before seeking any third opinion in Harrisburg. This left their dad and his faith healer, who pastored the church across town.
Despite the general religiosity of Faraway Town, their family had never been observant. There were many times since Kel's diagnosis that Hero considered praying, but something about it felt disingenuous. Surely if there was a god, or many gods, they would be offended by him seeking their help now after a lifetime of ignoring them. And of course the thought of that made Hero angry in turn—what made him or her or them so high and mighty, so worthy of praise for simply existing? How dare they look their noses down on humanity, put their own trials and sacrifices on a pedestal when he had had so many losses of his own?
Hero looked at Kel, who blithely stared off at nothing. His behavior had been alarming as of late. If this could somehow turn back what was obviously happening, Hero swore he would never curse divinity again.
Still, the pastor was off-putting. He was a large, burly man with a self-righteous air to him. He ordered their mother and sister out of the room, and told Hero that if he was going to stay, he had to remain silent.
"Excuse me?" their mother balked.
"Women tend to get hysterical during these sorts of deliverances, mothers the worst of all." When she did not move, he added, "you want to save your boy's life, don't you? Make things the way they were before? I can do it, but not with some odious mother yelping in my ear not to do this or that."
He refused to go on until their mother bent to his demand. She picked Sally up and headed to the door, but not before locking eyes with Hero and mouthing out watch them.
Kel watched her leave with a look of trepidation.
"She's just going to go get Sally something to eat." Hero stroked Kel's cheek. "I promise mom will be back soon."
"It's a damn shame you all waited until it got this bad to bring me in. The boy's acting like someone took a bat to his head." He took out his supplies: his holy book and a vial of yellow oil. "He's plagued by the demon of cancer. It's a strong spirit, hard to shake off. Latches on to anyone who turns their back on god."
What on Earth was he talking about?
The pastor aggressively prayed over Kel, demanding his god decimate every cancerous cell in his body and to forgive Kel for whatever sin he committed—witchcraft, pride, fornication, homosexuality—that granted the devil such extensive authority over his soul. The scene made Hero uncomfortable, but he would have just rolled his eyes at it if it weren't for how Kel reacted.
He shrank back in his bed, eyes welling with tears. Who was this guy, and why was he yelling at him? What was all this about a demon? The devil? Hell? Oh, so the man agreed—this was all his fault. He did something bad, and this was his punishment. He didn't mean to be bad. He didn't want to die and hurt everyone. He hugged his right leg to his chest—god, everything hurt so much—and cried quietly into his knee. He was hoping this surrender would make the man leave him alone, but it only sent him into a frenzy. Now he was demanding to know the demon's name.
Kel shook his head. How was he supposed to know that?
The man asked again, more aggressively, shouting with the authority of a war general. Kel covered his ears. He felt a warm liquid trickling over his head and down the bridge of his nose—olive oil? Why was he being drenched in oil? Weird weird weird! He cried harder, hoping the sound of his own voice would mask whatever was going on around him. The shouting got louder, louder… a bang? Kel lifted his head.
Hero and the guy were in a tussle, arms locked. His brother had his teeth bared. They knocked over Kel's breakfast tray, spilling the untouched contents on top of him. He had to help his brother, this muscle-head was twice his size and about a second away from handing his head to him. Hero needed him. Kel was held in place by a bunch of ropes snaking directly into his arm. He yanked them out, one by one.
His dad jumped on him, trying to stop him from breaking free. The strange man was on top of Hero now, commanding the 'demon' possessing Hero to come out. His dad held him down with all his body weight. But no, no, he couldn't stay here! Hero needed him! Kel threw his head back and screamed.
A bunch of nurses ran in, and some men in uniform. They dragged the bad man away… and Hero too? But he didn't do anything wrong! Kel wanted to go after them, even managing to swing his right leg over the bed, but his dad wouldn't let him move.
He had to be sedated for the nurses to re-administer his many IVs.
It was dark out, and his dad was gone. So was Hero. Sally was playing quietly in the corner while his mom sat beside him, rubbing his back and humming a tune that felt so familiar—
He fell for days, years, an eternity. When he landed the world around him was bathed in red—red walls, red floors, rose-tinged air, the smell of blood.
There were no monsters around, just helpers slowly closing up shop. Near the entrance was a sign written in colorful bubble letters:
WELCOME TO HEARTLAND! GOING OUT OF BUSINESS AFTER 18 YEARS!
