A/N: Hi guys :D Thanks to everyone who has already read and reviewed (etc.) I hope you guys are enjoying it so far :D

Disclaimer: No I don't own Glee or it's magical creations (sadly)

The next morning Wes awoke to the pleasant sounds of David's snores on the mattress that he was sharing on the floor with Kurt. Wes rubbed his eyes groggily and sat up, ignoring the slight dizziness in his head. Across the room he could see Blaine fully awake in the armchair, eyeing David and Kurt with an expression of jealousy.

"Good morning, lover boy," Wes smirked. Blaine looked up, startled.

"Morning," he said, the dark look being replaced by his usual dapper smile. "How are you feeling?"

Wes sighed. One day and he was already sick of that question. "Fine," he said. "A little dizzy I guess…" Blaine's eyes widened in alarm.

"I'll go get Doctor Vincent," he said running out of the room before Wes could protest.

"Good morning sleep head," Wes said as David woke up.

"Morning," David murmured, rubbing his eyes groggily. "Where's Dapper Pants?" Wes snorted. David was not a morning person…

"Gone to get Doc for some more drugs for me," Wes grimaced. "Ugh, I'll be glad to go home, this bed is really uncomfortable…" he rubbed his back.

"Should I wake Kurt?" David asked as Blaine reappeared with the doctor.

"No!" Blaine cried, "he looks so peaceful…" both Wes and David rolled their eyes. Doctor Vincent smirked knowingly.

"Alright, Wes," Doctor Vincent said handing him three tablets and a glass of water. "I've given these to your parents. You'll be required to take them three times a day half an hour before meals…"

"Ugh," Wes said once he swallowed them.

"What's wrong?" Blaine asked, concerned as he saw Wes' disgusted face.

"I'm hungry," Wes grinned as his stomach rumbled. The other's laughed in relief. "So when can I get out of here, doc?"

"I can call your parents now if you like," the doctor offered. "But we all need to have a little talk before you leave…"

"Okay," Wes frowned, not really liking the sound of that.

"Kurt and I are going to get you clothes," Blaine announced, rising to his feet and pulling a pleased looking Kurt along with him.

As Blaine, Kurt and the doctor departed David was left alone with Wes.

"So do you reckon you'll be able to go back to school?" David asked.

"The doc said yesterday that I would be able to, as long as it's not during… chemotherapy." Saying the word aloud was harder than Wes expected. Every time he thought about it he felt sick to his stomach.

David nodded. "I guess that's probably what he wants to talk to your parents about…"

"I guess so," Wes said, grimacing.

Wes couldn't stand this. Conversation with David was always so easy. He was his best friend, and they never ran out of things to say to each other. Now it was like David was choosing his words carefully and trying not to upset him. He hated feeling like this… weak.

Before they could resume their lame attempt at a conversation Blaine and Kurt came back with clothes for Wes. The doctor returned shortly after and unhooked him from the IV so he could change.

He excused himself to the bathroom. It felt nice to be out of that stupid plastic hospital gown and into his favorite sweater and comfy jeans. He washed his face and ran a comb through his hair. He felt more like himself.

He was, as expected, feeling rather drowsy and his muscles were sore. As he changed he winced when he found the giant stitched up scar across his stomach where they had removed the cancer. He hoped it would be healed for swimsuit season…

When he returned he found his parents sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Hey," Wes grinned as his mother pulled him into another bone crushing hug. "Where are the others?"

"They said to say goodbye," his mother said. "We sent them home… I hope you don't mind."

Wes shrugged, admittedly a little disappointed. They proved a nice distraction. "It's cool."

"Now, Wesley," The doctor said from his position in Blaine's armchair which he had pulled up next to the bed where Wes joined his parents. "I'd like to say we could start treatment immediately-" Wes did not share the sentiment, "-but we need to allow your body to recover from surgery first."

"How soon can you start?" his father asked anxiously.

"Three weeks," Doctor Vincent said. His father nodded, taking this in. "From then on it'll be once every four weeks for six months," Wes felt his eyes widen. Six months of chemo? "After each treatment you need to allow a week for your body to recover. In that period it would be wise for you to forgo school and give your immune system time to rest."

"What will it be like?" Wes asked quietly. "Chemo, I mean…"

The doctor nodded sympathetically. "Well, as we discussed you will lose your hair and you will have a change in tastes of foods. As you have already experienced you will be tired and achy… really, that is about it. Although during the week that you have chemo you will, I'm afraid, be in a fair bit of pain."

Wes nodded. He had been expecting that.

"We'll need to see Wes every now and again for blood tests and check ups just to check that you're coping with every thing fine," the doctor continued. "But I can assure you that you're in very capable hands."

"Thank you," Wes's father said sincerely. His mother nodded her thanks and squeezed Wes's hand tightly.

"Well, you should be alright to leave now, Wes," the doctor said kindly.

"Thanks," Wes said. "Can we go now?" he said eagerly to his parents. He had rather had enough of the hospital for now.

"No worries," his mother said in her gentle voice.

They thanked the doctor once more and finally left. Once they were in the car Wes realized that when they meant they would be taking him home that they were taking him home home. Not back to Dalton, which he would have admittedly preferred….

"Wes," his father said carefully, keeping his eyes on the road, "there's something your mother and I would like to discuss with you…"

"Yeah," Wes said, his eyes out the window watching the scenery they passed.

"It's about Dalton…"

"What about it?" Wes asked quickly, turning to face his parents anxiously.

"We were wondering how you would feel about transferring?" his mother asked carefully.

"No," Wes said firmly.

"Listen, sweetheart," his mother said gently, "it'll be easier for you… rather than catching the bus all that way to school every day…"

"Wait, what?" Wes frowned, confused. "Why would I need to catch a bus?"

"Well, you'll be living at home now-"

"What?" Wes interrupted. "I'm living at home now?"

"Of course," his mother gave a small laugh. "You can't expect those boys to take care of you… you have to stay with us…"

"No," Wes said firmly. "I'm not moving home." His mother looked slightly hurt at his words.

"Wesley," his father said seriously, "you'll listen to your mother."

"I'm not moving home," Wes said decidedly. "And I'm not leaving Dalton. All my friends are there… the Warblers…"

"You'll make new friends," his mother protested.

"I'm not moving," Wes insisted. "Please, mom," he pleaded. "Everything is changing… let me have some shred of normality in my life…"

His mother looked torn. "Fine," she said sadly. "But during that week after your therapy you'll stay at home."

"Okay," Wes said, realizing that this was the best deal he was going to get. "I love you," he reminded his mother quietly after a moment.

"I love you, too," his mother said. Wes could have sworn he saw her wipe a tear from her eyes.