Hey guys,

I can't put down in words how much I missed writing fics about these boys, and getting to share them with you. It's been a while. I hope you're still there, and that you're safe (what a crazy, crazy year).

I took time off to write a novel, and so I did that. I wrote a first draft that took about two years and a lot of frustration, and I hated every second of it, really. And as soon as I was done with that draft, about a month ago, I picked up the first chapter of this story, which I started writing in my computer at work last year. It just came into my head and wouldn't leave. I was going to turn it into an original piece as well, with new characters... and then realized there are enough reasons in 2020 to be miserable, and I would not make writing another one. I let it be a fic instead. And I'm so glad I did.

So. Here it is. Each chapter will be named after the character in charge of the POV. In this case, we'll kick things off with Cooper.

I want to thank Christine for putting up with me for the past 7 years and for being my beta for this new story. This first chapter is dedicated to her and to Cam, who gave me the final push I needed to come back to this fandom I love with all my heart.

The title comes from the wonderful song by Travis.

I own nothing.

Enjoy.

It wasn't the usual aspects of cancer that really bothered Cooper (you know, like the pain, the constant hospital visits and the suddenly very real possibility of death). It had more to do with how cancer took over your life: you stopped being someone people just thought of as charming, or a good friend; you weren't someone who enjoyed watching basketball games and going on runs, or someone you could count on when things were difficult; at least, not anymore. Once you had cancer, it was all that mattered. All conversations inevitably ended up being about his illness. When he talked to someone, he only saw pity in their eyes. The tones of their voices also changed, became softer, gentler, like they thought it would break him if they talked too loudly, if they spooked him. As if they thought he was in his deathbed already.

But it was even worse how it took over the lives of the people you loved. In Cooper's case, his brother.

Blaine was caring, sweet, too kind for his own good, and the best brother Cooper could have ever asked for. When he found out Cooper was sick, he dropped everything to be with him. Everything else stopped being relevant – his work, his love life, any of his obligations – and he was there.

He was there.

It was an overstatement to say that Cooper would never forget the day he was diagnosed. He had gone to the doctor after feeling under the weather for a while, thinking it was some kind of passing virus or even the nastiest flu he had ever encountered. He had been losing weight, he felt incredibly tired all the time, and there was a very persistent fever he couldn't get rid of. There were, of course, other symptoms, like the heavy sweating in the middle of the night, but he attributed it to either the fever or the unusually warm weather they were getting that March. So he went to the hospital hoping for some antibiotics that would get him back to normal, back to a life that had been so full of blessings even when he didn't notice, and sat in a doctor's office, a polite smile on his face, as the doctor read the results of his blood work.

Then that little word slipped from the doctor's lips.

"What do you mean I have cancer?" Cooper asked, the smile vanishing from his face, his whole body straightening up in tension.

That question was followed by a long hour of explanations, treatment options and many other details Cooper was too stunned to remember. All he knew was that he was sick, and that his life would change drastically now. And then only one thought managed to reach him through the fog: I need to find Blaine.

He'd gotten out of the hospital and into a cab before he knew what he was doing. He wasn't even sure he let the doctor finish speaking. He just couldn't stay in that little white room any longer. He couldn't listen to words like chemotherapy, or acute leukemia for another second. He needed air, he couldn't breathe, he needed to…

"Oh hey, man," the cab driver said, looking at him through the rearview mirror. "Your nose is bleeding."

Great, now that the cancer had made itself known, it was ready to give him a real show.

By the time he arrived at Blaine's apartment, the front of his shirt was stained red, but at least his nose had stopped bleeding. He walked into the building and up the stairs, tripping, unable to remember how his legs were supposed to work. This was crazy, it couldn't be happening, he was going to be okay…

Wasn't he?

He knocked on Blaine's door. He could hear music playing inside the apartment. It was early enough that his brother was still home, probably drinking a cup of coffee as he got ready for work. As he listened to the music pouring through the door, Cooper considered leaving. He didn't want to see Blaine's face fall. He didn't want anyone else to know. Maybe if no one else knew, it would go away…

Blaine opened the door. It only took a second for his face to morph from polite curiosity into shocked horror.

"Oh my god, Cooper," he grabbed his brother's arm and pulled him gently into the apartment. "What happened?"

Cooper realized he didn't know how to say it. He couldn't breathe. This wasn't happening. He wasn't about to tell his little brother that he was sick. Was this a nightmare? Then how come he couldn't wake up?

Blaine guided him into the kitchen and onto a chair. Cooper watched him move around quickly, grabbing a clean washcloth and putting it under the open faucet until it was drenched. He saw the concern in his big whiskey eyes. It had been the two of them against the world for so long...

"Coop, you're scaring me, what…" Blaine mumbled, as he kneeled in front of him and tried to clean his brother's messy face.

And then he said it, the words that would change the Anderson brothers' lives. "I have cancer."

Blaine stopped, his hand frozen in the air, the washcloth dripping water onto the floor. He blinked. "That's not funny. Are you concussed? Did you fall? Were you in a car accident?"

Cooper grabbed his brother's hand. He squeezed, trying to get Blaine to pay attention to him, to really see him. "I have cancer."

Blaine fell back onto the kitchen floor, and he sat there, dazed and a little nauseous, as Cooper explained. Despair slowly crept onto his face, a mirror of old wounds multiplied. As Cooper talked, they both understood that this was real, and that they would have to deal with it.

But as everything else they had got through in life, they would do it together.

That day, Blaine didn't go to work – the first of many days he would miss – and, instead, took his brother back to the hospital. He actively sought his doctor, asked all the questions he had, seeked guidance and wrote down appointments. Cooper just sat next to him, doing his best to remember how he was supposed to function, and failing at every attempt.

That night, they laid together on Blaine's living room floor, staring at the ceiling, the television set on a football game they had been looking forward to watching before their whole lives were turned upside down. There was a pizza box on the floor next to them, the first food they had been able to stomach since this whole ordeal began, and they each nibbled mindlessly on a piece, as they thought of the journey ahead.

"It's going to be okay, you know?" Blaine said at last, and there was no uncertainty in his voice. "You're the most stubborn guy I know, there's no way you're letting something as mundane as cancer get in your way."

Cooper chuckled, closed his eyes and treasured this moment of peace and quiet with his brother.

In two days, Cooper would get a bone marrow biopsy so they could determine which treatment would be best for him. That was going to be the first of many steps, the first of many hospital visits. Soon after, he started chemotherapy. Blaine moved him into his spare room so he could keep an eye on him. He stopped going to work, and Blaine missed more days than Cooper wanted him to. Once again, it was the two of them against the world.

And now, after the third session of chemotherapy, Cooper was sitting on the floor of his brother's bathroom, hugging the toilet and watching the very few contents of his stomach disappear. He was trembling, weak and spent, wishing he could just crawl back to bed, but knowing it wasn't wise to move so soon. He ran his hand through his hair, trying to get it all out of his face, and then looked down at his hand to find a few thick strands had remained on his fingers.

He took a deep breath as he looked at his hair.

Blaine came back from the kitchen bringing a glass of water and froze at the door, staring. "Coop?" He whispered, quietly.

Cooper took another deep breath. Hair grows back, he told himself. This is not what matters right now.

He found a smile for his little brother – he always did – and said: "Hey, let's look at the bright side."

Blaine blinked at him, then took a few steps into the bathroom and sat on the floor next to him. "And what's that?"

"Next time I go with you to a gay bar, guys won't be so busy trying to pick me up, and you might get a boyfriend," Cooper replied, the hint of a playful smirk forming on his lips.

Blaine rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. "I'm glad we're focusing on what's important here."

Cooper chuckled and pressed his forehead against the cold porcelain of the toilet.

Blaine was here. He was going to be alright.

I hope you liked the first chapter. I would love to hear your thoughts on it. Reviews are love!

I will be updating twice a week for this one, on Wednesdays and Saturdays. So I will see you on Wednesday.

Take care.

Love,

L.-