I know I said that this story would only be three parts, but this part is longer than I expected it would be so I had to break it up, I didn't think you all would want a 20,000 word part. :P. Also, I'm sorry that this took so long to update, work got in the way. Thanks for all the reviews as well :D. Enjoy this part!
This story is also un-beta'ed. Sorry for the mistakes beforehand.
-Part Two-
The car ride home was silent. Piper called her sisters as they walked out of the doctor office so they could meet them at the manor. Phoebe and Paige tried to get the answer out of her from the phone but the eldest sister deferred them by telling that this had to be done in person. She knew her sisters were worried and knew that her family was going to be bombarded with questions the moment that they got home.
Glancing behind her, she looked at her sons. Wyatt kept an eye on Chris, the seventeen-year-old looking at his younger brother in disbelief. It was as if Wyatt couldn't believe that there was a biological war going on in Chris's body. Meanwhile, the youngest was just peering out the window, his sage green eyes hazed over as his mind was probably twenty miles from where he was.
Beside her, Leo was stoic. It appeared that all he had on his mind was to get home. His hands clenched the steering wheel tightly; his knuckles a milky white. He knew Leo was having a mental battle with himself, probably berating himself for not realizing that his youngest son was so ill.
The Wyatt-Halliwell family pulled into the driveway and Piper saw her sister's cars on the street. With a sigh, she pulled herself out of the car and headed up towards the front door, her kin behind her. "Chris," she addressed, "You don't have to say anything. I'll do all the talking if you want. You can go to your room if you want."
Chris looked at his mom, his green eyes shaded by his dark brown bangs, "Can I sit outside for a bit?"
Piper smiled softly, "Of course Peanut," she gave her son a peck on the forehead, "Do you mind if Wyatt stays out with you?"
Chris merely shook his head before heading around the house to the backyard. "Just make sure he's okay, please." Piper requested.
Wyatt nodded and followed his brother. Piper frowned, "How is he supposed to make sure Chris is okay when he's in shock as well?"
"I think we're all in shock dear," Leo muttered as he opened the door.
Instantly, questions came from every member of the Halliwell family within the house. "Quiet!" Piper yelled, hushing the eight people inside, "Living room." She ordered.
Once everyone was settled, Piper looked at the faces among her. Her younger sister, Phoebe and her husband Coop sat on the couch with their twin seven-year-old girls – Melinda and Payton – settled on their laps. In the armchair beside the middle sister was her baby half-sister, Paige and her husband Henry with their two daughters, Samantha – who was fourteen, and Patricia – who was ten.
Piper gulped and ran her hands together. "Chris's blood results came in today," she said in a mere whisper.
"Honey, what's wrong? It is worse than anemia?" Phoebe anxiously asked, her eyes wide in worry.
Piper held back a sob, "Oh Phoebe, its ten-times worse."
"Piper, what's wrong with Chris," Paige softly demanded.
Closing her eyes and letting the tears slip down her face, Piper softly said, "Chris has leukemia."
Chris sat underneath the large oak tree that was in the backyard, his eyes on the dark wood fence that enclosed the yard. Leukemia. It was the farthest thing from his mind when he woke up this morning. The idea that his body could be warring with itself never appeared in his mind, but now, it was a reality.
He was fifteen! He wasn't supposed to be worried about dying. He should be worried about the next girl he wanted to date, the next CD to buy, what car to get in a few months on his next birthday, not dying.
Chris chuckled humorlessly. Who was he kidding? Dying was on his mind more often than not. It was kind of hard when you're part of the Halliwell family and you're a witch, and especially if your older brother and yourself was supposed to care on the Charmed One legacy. Chris loosely wrapped his arms around his waist. What was he supposed to do? He knew that he would probably have to go to chemotherapy, but besides that, he had no idea what he was up against.
Peering over towards the house, he saw his brother leaning against the wall, his own eyes glazed over as a million thoughts attacked his mind. Chris frowned before looking up at the sky. "If I die," he whispered, "please just hold off until Wy graduates, please." He begged.
Chris frowned as he read the information over ALL. Some of it went over his head, especially the stuff about the Philadelphia chromosome, but he got the gist of it. In laymen terms, Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia basically meant that he was producing too many immature white blood cells, which suffocated his healthy cells. All of his recent symptoms, fatigue, lack of appetite, and other things, all collided with his disease.
Sighing, Chris closed his laptop and slid it under his bed. Pulling his legs towards him, Chris set his rested his chin upon his knees. Faintly, he could hear his brother's snores in the other room beside him and he was sure his mother and father were lying in bed, worrying and talking about him and the cancer.
After his mother broke the news to the rest of his family, the youngest Halliwell male found himself in the arms of many women, all hugging him until every last bit of oxygen was out of his lungs. And while he usual loved the close-knit family he had, he wanted to do nothing but shove them away and run up to his room. He hated the pity and fear that were in their eyes. It was as if they expected him to drop dead right there and then.
Growling, Chris threw a random book at the wall across from it, the thin book barely making a sound as it hit. Why did this happen to him? He was already cursed with a life of toil with just being a witch; let alone a Halliwell and a future Charmed One, so the Power To Be decided to throw in cancer for kicks and giggles? The young teenager burrowed his head into his knees. Who was he kidding? Even if this was some sick joke that karma decided to play on him, it didn't matter. He was going to die. Plain and simple.
He would never get to go to prom, graduate high school, go to college become successful. Instead, he was going to die a sick fifteen year old boy who didn't even get his driver's license yet. Curling up on his side, Christopher Halliwell began to weep, and soon fell into slumber's embrace.
Piper and Leo were doing as Chris hypothesized. "I'll drive Chris to the hematologist tomorrow for the bone marrow biopsy," she said monotone.
"And that will prove that this is just some sick nightmare." Leo whispered, his eyes clenching shut.
Piper turned and frowned, "Denying it isn't going to make it go away."
"Our son has cancer Piper," Leo said brokenly, "What are we going to do?"
Piper sniffled, her own tears threatening to spill over, "Fight through this like we always do. Be strong for him, and comfort each other behind doors. We can't break down in front of him Leo, he probably already depressed. If he sees us like this, he'll give up. We can let that happen."
"What about Wyatt?"
Piper sighed when she thought about her eldest son, "We'll find out in the morning,"
"He's in shock,"
"I know Leo, it's just, I've never seen him that…broken. He was like a robot."
"He just found out that his brother, his best friend, has cancer. He's going to be a bit absentminded for a bit."
Piper turned and look at Leo, "Everything is going to okay right?"
Leo looked at his wife, and wished he could tell her what she wanted to hear so desperately, but he also knew that he wouldn't want him to lie to her. "I don't know Piper, I honestly don't know."
Once again, Chris found himself on a doctor's table. Only this time, except in his street clothes, he was in a paper hospital gown. His mother sat next to him, his hand clenched in hers. He wasn't sure if it was to reassure him or to reassure herself.
The door opened up and a young man entered with a soft smile on his clean shaven face. Bright green eyes looked at the two Halliwells. "Christopher and Piper?" he said.
Piper nodded. "Hello, I'm Doctor Alderman, and I'm the hematologist that was assigned to Christopher's case. The oncologist should be arriving soon so you can meet her as well. And how are you feeling today Mr. Halliwell?"
Chris shrugged, "The usual for the last couple weeks."
"Tired?" Alderman inquired with a small frown, "Well, hopefully we can get this done quickly so you can get home and take a nap. Do you know what we're doing today?"
"A bone marrow biopsy." Chris answered sullenly.
The doctor nodded, "Yes, and you have every right not to sound too happy about it." He turned around and grabbed a small device, "After we numb you up, we're going to insert this needle into your pelvic area. Then we'll do what is called the aspiration part. That's where we take out the liquid in the marrow. After that," this time the doctor grabbed a much larger needle, "we do that actual biopsy where we take a section of the bony cortex within the marrow. Understand?"
Chris gulped at the sight of the large needle. "Yeah."
"Also, we might be doing what is called a lumbar puncture, but that won't be today." The doctor quickly reassured after seeing Chris's fearful gaze, "We'll wait until you've healed from the biopsy."
A soft knock on the door alerted the people inside that someone was entering. A tall brunette Asian woman entered, "Sorry I'm late, traffic was worse than usual. I'm Doctor Khan, and I'm the oncologist for Christopher."
"I was just telling Christopher about the procedure." Doctor Alderman explained.
Khan nodded before looking at the young teen, "Do you want your mother to stay?"
"Yes please," Chris answered softly.
The two doctors nodded before turning to get wash their hands and slipping on a pair of latex gloves. "Alright Chris, lay on your stomach please," Alderman requested.
Chris sighed and maneuvered, his face looking at the door and his hand still clutched by his mother. Chris shivered slightly when he felt one of the doctor sterilize the area and then smear another liquid over his lower back. A few minutes passed. "Do you feel that?" Doctor Khan inquired.
Chris shook his head, unsure if they were actually prodding the skin or not. "Alright, we're going to start now. Now, you will feel some pain Christopher," she said, "But it's important that you don't move."
Chris sighed and got himself ready for the pain and nodded. Seconds later, he felt a sharp pressure just above his left butt cheek as he felt the thin needle push through skin and muscle, deep into his body. Chris gasped when he felt the needle scrap across bone and clenched his eyes shut when he felt it pierce through it.
"Shh Peanut," Piper said softly, her hand running through her son's shaggy hair and her heart clenching at the sight of her child in pain.
"Syringe," Alderson calmly ordered, the large plastic container given to him. Gently he attached it to the needle and began sucking the thick red liquid from the boy's body. Once three-quarters full, the blond doctor pulled both the syringe and the needle away from the boy. "Alright, part one is done Chris, and as much as I would love to say that was the easy part, I would be lying."
Chris mentally groaned. "Trephine needle please," Alderson requested, "Now Chris, don't tense and don't move."
The Half-Elder bit back a gasp of pain as a thicker, larger needle was introduced into his body. He felt it dive through and attach itself into his bone. The doctor then began twisting, the needle slowly going into the soft bone, making Chris tear up and wishing that he could just die now. Thirty seconds later, Chris felt the needle beginning to make its exit.
"Alright, we're going to turn you over, and you'll lie there for five to ten minutes," Khan explained, her hands guiding the boy in the turn, "Now, the aspiration part of the test should be back by tomorrow, the actual biopsy will take a few more days, Tuesday will the most likely day it should come back, Monday, late afternoon at the earliest."
"And after that?" Piper inquired.
"We'll discuss treatment plans." Khan answered. "Alright Chris, you can go and put your clothes on. Mrs. Halliwell, I'm going to give you a prescription for paracetamol, it's a pain reliever that he can take for the next few days," she explained soon after Chris departed, "If there is any fevers, increase of pain or redness, please call right away. Those are usually signs for a complication."
Piper nodded and took the slip of paper from the doctor just as Chris re-entered the room in a pair of gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt, comfortable clothes being worn out of suggestion and Chris was thankful that they heeded it. His back felt as if he was stabbed with an anthame multiple times.
"Ready to go Peanut?"
Chris nodded and followed his mother into the car. He winced as he slid into the seat, his back arched so it didn't touch the hot leather. Luckily, the manor was a short ten minute drive from the doctor's office. Groaning, Chris eased open the door, the pain in his back worsening from the bumps in the roads. Piper rushed to the passenger side and helped her son out of the SUV.
Chris winced as he went up the stairs, his mother letting him leaning against her slightly. She opened the door and led her son into the living room, deciding that she'll help him up them later when the pain killers had started to kick in. But first, she had to get them.
Slowly, she laid her son on the couch, the young teenage wincing when his back hit cushions. Piper gently covered Chris with an afghan before trotting into the kitchen, finding her eldest son and husband seated around the island.
"How's Chris?" Leo quickly asked.
"In pain," Piper replied, "Can you go and watch him, make sure he doesn't get up, I need to get him his prescription."
"I'll watch him," Wyatt quietly offered, slipping out of his seat and leaving his half-eaten bowl of cereal on the marble top.
When Wyatt entered the living room, he saw his baby brother on the couch; his eyes crunched shut from the pain. He was on his side, clutching the red blanket. "Hey bro," Chris softly greeted, a small forced smile.
Wyatt tried to smile without it looking like a grimace. He sat down in the armchair next to Chris and ruffled the boy's hair. Chris always hated that. "I hate you," Chris muttered as he weakly batted the hand away from his disheveled strands.
Wyatt grinned and leaned back, "So, how bad was it?"
Chris snorted, "It was painful, they stuck a needle the size of a freaking pencil into my back and pulled out a section of my bone,"
Wyatt growled softly. He couldn't believe that this was happening to his brother. It shouldn't be happening to him; they were supposed to be the Charmed Ones. Him and his brother, the next in line to wield the Power of Three while his cousins went off to become whitelighters and cupids, the two Wyatt-Halliwell children would be the Wiccan branch of the next generation. But that can't happen if one of them was dead.
Feeling a cold hand on his, Wyatt broke out of his angry thoughts. "I'm going to be fine Wy," he heard Chris whisper.
Wyatt smiled sadly at his brother and patted Chris's hand, "I hope so bro, I really hope so."
Two days later, Chris found himself back at the doctor's office, his head bowed as he tried to rub sleep from his eyes. It was seven in the morning and all the sick boy wanted to do was go back to bed. The door opened and Doctor Alderson entered the room, a slight grim expression on his face. "Good morning," he grumbled before taking a long swig from his thermos as he lean against the counter, "Now, Chris's bone marrow results came back. Like we thought, his white blood cell count was a bit high. His was at fourteen, the normal person's levels should be between four and eleven. His platelets and red blood cells were low due to the other cells. His red blood cells are 4.1, while they should be between 4.7 to 6.1, and his platelets were at 130 and those should be around 150-400 liters." The doctor quickly said, "The low platelets is a reason to worry, because if he gets cut or hits something, he won't clot easily."
Piper nodded, "Do we need to do the lumbar puncture?"
Alderson shook his head, "There's no signs that the leukemia has transgressed far enough that it has invaded the spinal cord or brain. Now, on to why we're here, treatment plan. I would like to get this started tomorrow if all possible. We're going to start him on chemotherapy treatment and try to force this disease into remission. It's going to be a combination of drugs that will hopefully kill off the malignant cells."
"And if it doesn't?" Piper asked.
The doctor sighed, "We'll figure that out if we need to cross that bridge. Now, there will be some adverse effects to using chemo as you probably know. Chris will probably feel very weak after each session and possibly be nauseated and might vomit. His appetite will decrease, but you need to eat Chris, it will keep your energy up." He gently reminded the young teen, "You'll lose your hair, and your immune system will be depressed so try not to get sick or that might put off the next chemo treatment."
Chris nodded, his gaze on his beat-up sneakers.
"Tomorrow, you'll go a clinic on 17th street. You'll put hooked up via IV to a machine that will pump the medicine into your body. It will take about an hour for the treatment to be complete. They'll detach it and have you sit around for a half an hour to make sure the nausea isn't too bad. Then you'll go home and return every week. Understand?"
Chris sighed. He didn't like the sound of getting some akin to poison being pumped into his body, nor did he like the idea of being bald, however he found the idea of being dead a far worse feeling than the other two. So, he nodded with a frown on his face.
"Alright, Doctor Khan will be at the clinic to help you through this," Alderson said, before he reached forward and patted Chris's knee, "I'm not going to lie and say that this is going to be a walk in the park. Its gonna suck, a lot. But, it will get better Chris."
"If you say so," mumbled Chris.
Alderson gave Chris's one last pat before standing, "Keep faith Chris, you'll make it through this. Have a nice day now."
Doctor Khan smiled as Chris and his parents ventured into the cancer clinic. "Hello, I'm Doctor Jennifer Khan," she said, shaking Leo's hand, "I'm sure we'll be spending some time with each other, so call me Jennifer, or Jen."
"I'm Leo Wyatt, Chris's father." Leo replied.
"Nice to meet you, now if you follow me, I'll take you to the room where Chris will be getting the chemo treatment."
The room was quite small; it could only fit three padded chairs within its wall. Luckily, the treatment chairs were empty so Chris would be taking his first dose in private. "If you just sit right that, we'll hook you up to an IV." She gently instructed, the brunette teenager sliding into the seat.
He shivered as the nurse cleaned the crook of his arm with a disinfectant before sliding in a thin needle into his vein. The elderly woman smiled and gently patted the appendage before wheeling over the pole, a large clear bag hanging on one of the hooks. She took the clear tube and inserted into the drip that was connected to the needle. "If you feel sick just let us know dear," she said with a kind smile.
Chris sighed and leaned back, "I'm getting poison pumped into my body to fight a disease that is killing me, if that's not irony, I don't know what is."
Piper smiled sadly and took a seat next to her son and held his hand, "Are you feeling okay?"
"Mom, it just started," drawled Chris, rolling his eyes.
Fifteen minutes, Chris was bent over a small hospital pan, puking. His free arm was wrapped around his stomach as it clenched painfully as another bout of bile rose. He leaned back with a gasp when he felt his stomach settle a little bit. "Remind me not to eat before coming here again," he weakly moaned.
Piper frowned and smooth back her son's damp bangs in an attempt to comfort her child. "Your stomach will hopefully settle after a while."
Chris sighed and closed his eyes, "This sucks."
Leo stood and took his son's hand. Leaning down, he pecked his son's forehead, "I know, but you're tough it out."
Chris chuckled, "Its not like I have a choice Dad."
Leo smiled at his son, but the expression quickly vanished when Chris groaned and leaned forward to spew more vomit into the basin. Chris moaned as he leaned back, "This is going to be a long hour."
Chris stumbled into the manor and beelined for the bathroom. His stomach had settled after the chemo treatment, but once he got in the car and his father started driving, the nausea returned and by time he reached the manor the bile had reached the apex of his throat. Leaning over the toilet, he spewed his stomach contents into the bowl. By time he was done, he was gasping for breath.
"You okay,"
Chris weakly smiled at his father, "Yeah," he croaked, his throat raw.
Leo rubbed his son's back, the teenager moaning as he turned back towards the basin and once again puked. The blond man kneeled by his son's side and drew him into his arms once he was done, the boy groaning as he curled an arm around his stomach. "Shh," Leo gently breathed, smoothing back his son's hair, "You think you can make it to your bedroom so you can rest in your bed?"
Chris nodded and let his father help him stand and lead him to his bed. Chris curled up as Leo tucked his son in and brought the garbage bin to the edge it. "The garbage can is right next to you if you need it," Leo whispered, "Try to get some sleep buddy,"
Chris sighed and nuzzled deeper into his bed and curled up tighter and attempted to ignore his churning stomach and sleep. Soon after, Chris fell into a light sleep. Leo smiled and pecked his youngest son's temple before leaving the boy's bedroom.
Chris swatted at the hand was currently shaking him. He just got to sleep! "What?" he muttered, half-asleep.
"Dinner buddy," Leo answered with a small, remorseful smile.
The mere aspect of food made Chris turn green. "I'm not hungry,"
"You have to eat Chris," Leo said, "Come on, just a little bit."
"I'm just going to throw it all back up, so what's the point?" rebutted Chris, his arms crossing over his chest. During the action, Leo couldn't help but notice that where the nurse had put the IV was now a disgusting purple and green bruise. However, Chris was apply direct pressure on to it and didn't seem to notice.
"You have to keep up your energy," Leo argued.
Chris snorted and turned to look at his wall, mumbling something under his breath. Leo leaned in closer, "What did you say?"
"I said, what does it matter, I'm just going to die anyway."
Leo drew in a sharp breath and quickly drew his son into his arms, "No Chris, you're not going to die."
"How do you know?" Chris whispered softly, his head bowed.
Leo clutched his baby boy tighter in his arms, "I won't allow it. You're not dying Chris, we're going to fight this," Leo vowed, burring his face into his son's dark brown strands, hiding his own tears as he felt Chris's soak his shirt.
Wyatt couldn't help it. During the night, he slipped into his brother's room. He smiled as he glanced around, he could remember when he and Chris were younger, they had to share this room. Now five years later, the walls were painted a different color, the once off-white walls were now replaced by Chris's favorite color, turquoise. His own sports memorabilia was long gone and in its place was soccer posters and random band materials that Wyatt didn't know half of what they did. However, his smile was wiped off when he saw his baby brother in his bed, curled up sleeping. It was odd that two days ago Chris would look normal. Now, all Wyatt could see was the sickness. Leukemia, an abstract thing that he never thought would impact his life. His friends have had love ones perish to the disease, but his family was the Halliwells, they had so many other things to worry about that normal, mortal problems, like sickness didn't seem fathomable.
Wyatt had to hold back a snort. He wondered if this was how everyone felt when something like this happened to them. He was in one of the cliché 'It will never happen to me' scenarios where it does happen to you, only instead of his life being on the line, it was his baby brother, the person he swore to protect since the day he turned a big brother. But, how do you protect someone from their own body?
He tensed when Chris turned in his sleep but let out a small sigh of relief when his brother stilled. Wyatt noticed the garbage can and frowned. His brother must still be feeling queasy from the chemo treatment today. At dinner, Chris had only made it to three bites of mashed potatoes before bolting to the bathroom, his father quickly following.
Wyatt tried to continue eating dinner but couldn't. He couldn't eat knowing his brother was vomiting because of a poison in his system for a bunch of stupid cells that weren't reproducing correctly.
Why did this even have to happen to him in the first place? Wyatt thought angrily, his icy blue eyes narrowing.
They were the good witches, the ones that were going to go out and save thousands of innocents in their lifetime but yet someone, some deity out there, gave his baby brother cancer. How could they fight demons when his brother was fighting for his life? Wyatt growled. What did they ever do to warrant this? They've sacrificed their time, their lives, for the Greater Good, and they repay them by doing this? Making their youngest male suffer and possibly die before his sixteenth birthday? It was ludicrous.
Hearing his brother mutter something in his sleep, Wyatt quickly slipped out of Chris's room and into his own. He sank into his bed and dropped his head into his hands. How could this happen? Chris didn't smoke, didn't drink, and he was a good kid. He went to school, did soccer during the spring and marching band during the fall. He made time for his family, even for the annoying brats they called their cousins. He did his chores...most of the time...he was a bit sarcastic at times, but who wasn't in their family?
Wyatt sniffled. How could he fix this?
How could he save his baby brother from death's grip?
When Chris woke up, he prayed that the nausea would be finished. However, when the smell of fresh pancakes wafted into his room, Chris gagged. As the scent grew stronger so did the churning in his stomach. He turned and dry heaved into his garbage can. Groaning, he laid on his back, the white of his ceiling glaring back at him. He didn't even know why he bothered. He was going to die anyways. He didn't even know why his parents were even grabbing ahold of the thin strand of hope that chemotherapy is giving them. There was a high chance that it was going to fail. And for what? To spend his last moments on Earth crouched over the toilet puking his brains out?
Wrapping an arm around his stomach, Chris began to pushing himself up, focused on getting through the day with a smile on his face. Well, at least, a sarcastic smile on his face, a normal one would tip his family off to something being wrong. When he turned to fix his pillow, he froze. Nestled on the off-white cotton were small strands of chocolate brown. Only a few, but a noticeable amount. Gathering it in his hand, Chris gulped. It had begun.
It was about noon when he finally got both the nerve and energy to stumble down the stairs. He found his mother in her sanctuary; the kitchen. She smiled at him when she saw him enter the room but she wasn't fooling him. Her brown eyes were rimmed in red and her voice was hoarse when she wished him a 'Good morning.'
She was weeping over dishes and it was his fault. Chris bowed his head as he reached for the orange juice, deciding that he should at least get something in his stomach. "Your aunts are coming over today," Piper told her son.
Chris looked at her, a slight apprehension shining in his eyes. "Only Phoebe and Paige, Henry and Coop are taking the girls to the park after they get out of school,"
"When will I go back to school?" Chris softly inquired.
Piper frowned, "Maybe it would be best to take a break."
"But I won't graduate on time," Chris quickly rebuked, his mind filling in 'If I make it to my graduation' .
"There are more important things right now Chris," Piper answered tensely.
Chris gritted his teeth, "Mom, my life has been turned upside down, I just want one thing to hold on to, please."
"You don't have the energy nor the health to get through a whole day of school,"
"What about," Chris paused as he tried to think of a solution, "Home schooling? I could do it on my own time."
"Chris, you should be focused on getting better-"
"Mom, please."
Piper sighed, "I'll talk to your father about it."
Chris hugged his Aunt Paige back, his chest still hurting from Phoebe's bear hug a few minutes ago. He felt Paige's hand rubbing his back as if attempting to clean his disease from his body. He pulled back and smiled at his favorite (although he'll never admit it) aunt. "How you feeling sport?" Paige inquired.
Chris merely shrugged in response. The orange juice only made a return visit twenty minutes after he drank it, but it was the longest he has kept anything down and the scent of the hamburgers his mother was cooking was delicious smelling, his stomach clenching in both hunger and nausea. He didn't even know a person could feel ill and ravenous at the same time.
Paige and Phoebe led Chris into the living room and sat with him on the couch. Phoebe took his hand while Paige took the other. "How are you really feeling Chris?" Phoebe asked, a frown on her face.
Chris leaned back, his eyes on the ceiling, "Depressed. Lost. Losing."
Paige gently tugged Chris into a loose embrace, "You'll be fine Chris. You're too stubborn to die to a little thing like leukemia. Psh, I mean come on, we're Halliwells, we fight demons! A little disease isn't going to put a dent into us."
Chris snorted, "No, but me dying will."
Paige tightened her grasp on her nephew and looked at her sister. Phoebe looked on the verge of tears. Paige waved her away knowing that the young man would feel guilty if he saw someone tearing up because of him. "You're not going to die Chris, we won't allow it."
"You don't really have a say with death Aunt Paige," Chris remarked.
Paige closed her eyes and brought Chris even closer to her. Even at the age of fifteen, Chris was still a small boy. He barely broke five feet and only weighed a hundred and ten pounds. Paige ran a hand through Chris's hair and had to hold back a sob when she saw small strands fall out of his scalp. The chemo was beginning its damage already. She took a deep breath. If the chemo was killing his hair cells that meant that it was also killing the cancer cells. She rather have a bald, alive nephew than a dead one. She felt Chris shake underneath her hands. "Shh, what's a matter sweetheart?"
Chris shook his head, refusing to answer. Paige scowled. "Don't you dare act macho for me mister. You can act macho for everyone else, but you're fifteen not twenty-one. Tell me what's wrong."
"I'm scared Auntie." he whispered, his eyes closing.
Paige held back tears and brought her little nephew into her lap, the boy barely fitting but she didn't care, and cuddled him. "You would be crazy if you weren't sweetheart. But you have to have faith that you will pull through this."
Chris sniffled but nodded, his face burred in Paige's neck. Paige whispered to him, calming him, but also knowing that Chris had to get these tears out. He could put a brave face on for everyone else, but Paige could see right through it. While Chris might be acting like he was taking this all in stride, she knew that inside he was a small fifteen year old boy not knowing if he would wake up the next morning. To be on death's door and not knowing it was one thing. But knowing that the black door decorated with skulls and crossbones was in front of you, the Grim Reaper beckoning you to come in was probably terrifying, horrifying and stressful. Something no child the mere age of fifteen should be up against. Paige tightened her grasp. Even if she had to fight Death to end, she wouldn't let this disease take someone close to her, especially someone she already lost once.
Phoebe walked into the kitchen and ducked as a burnt hamburger patty was chucked at her. "Whoa, its just me!" she exclaimed.
Piper frowned and muttered an apology before turning back to her work, "I would ask how dinner was coming but I think I just got my answer," Phoebe lightly joked.
"Glad you can still crack jokes Pheebes." Piper growled.
Phoebe sighed and brought her sister into an embrace, "I know its tough Piper, but we'll get through this."
"Eight times,"
Phoebe raised an eyebrow, silently asking for her sister to elaborate. "Eight times he has thrown up, today. Yesterday was worse."
"It's a side effect, we knew this was gonna happen."
"I didn't think it was going to be this bad? He can't keep anything down!" Piper exclaimed, "If the leukemia doesn't kill him the starvation will!"
Phoebe shushed her sister, "Doesn't he see his doctor in a few days, mention it to him, maybe they can give him something."
Piper sniffled, "He goes for a blood test in two days, hopefully they get their answers from that, because I don't want to see my son going through another marrow biopsy."
"Piper, nothing in this treatment is going to sunshine and roses, but in the end it will get him better."
"What if it doesn't?" Piper muttered, "Then I just damned my son to live the last days of his life in a bathroom and in doctor offices."
Phoebe rubbed Piper's back, "Everything will be fine. He'll get better and then we'll continue on with life."
Piper hugged her sister tightly, "But...he could die Phoebe, my baby could die," Piper whispered brokenly, "A mother isn't supposed to bury her own child!"
"Shh, that won't happen Piper, Chris is too stubborn and strong to die."
Piper leaned back and wiped her cheeks, "Sometimes stubbornness and strength isn't enough...it wasn't enough for Prue."
"Chris is different from Prue."
Piper raised an eyebrow, "Is he?"
He grimaced as he poked his hamburger patty, this sight of the cooked meat making him queasy at just the aspect of eating it. The few french fries that he has managed to choke down already had his stomach churning.
"Try to eat a bit more Peanut," Piper softly urged.
Chris raised an eyebrow at his mother, hoping that his silent message of 'Are you kidding' was showing through. Piper frowned and pleaded with her eyes. Caving, Chris broke off a piece of the patty and shoved it in his mouth and quickly swallowed after a few chews, hoping that if he didn't taste the meat that it would affect his stomach as much. He sipped his ginger ale, the bubbly liquid doing nothing like it did for when he had the flu a few years ago. He attempted to eat a few more fries but after his third one, he bolted to the bathroom to puke it all up. He groaned as his stomach clenched. He just wanted to get through one meal without vomiting. Was that too much to ask? Leaning on the toilet seat, Chris flushed it and laid by the porcelain pot. The doctor said that his nausea would gradually get better as time went on, but this was his second day, shouldn't his food be at least attempting to stay in his stomach? With a small exhale, Chris pushed himself up and into his bedroom. His appetite - abate as small as it was - was completely abolished by now and all he wanted to do was sleep. Chris fell onto his bed and curled up, forgoing changing out of his street clothes and just covering up and closing his eyes. He was asleep in a matter of minutes.
By the fourth day, Chris's nausea had settled enough for him to be able to eat simple soups and crackers without it reappearing minutes later. However, the car ride wasn't helping his uneasy stomach. Piper and Chris pulled into the doctor office and headed straight into a room, Doctor Alderson already waiting. "Hello Chris, how are you feeling?"
Chris shrugged as he hopped up on the table, his arm already poised for the taking of his blood. The doctor quickly swabbed the place and pushed the needle into the thin skin, the boy wincing slightly as it broke through. Soon, the small vile was filled with thick red liquid. "Alright, " the doctor stated as pressed a small cotton square onto the puncture site, "Apply pressure. How has your nausea been?"
"Horrible," Chris answered with a frown.
"Its to be expected," replied Alderson, a small remorseful smile on his face, "We also need to weigh you. If the nausea continues to be a problem with future treatments we can prescribe anti-nausea medication. But I suggest ginger and some Sprite or 7-Up to help calm your stomach." he suggested as he helped Chris down from the table and led him to a small scale at the end of the hallway, "Jump on that please." he said, the boy doing so, "Hmm, one-oh-five. You lost eight pounds."
"Eight pounds, in four days?" Piper said, shocked and concerned.
"It could just be because of Chris's nausea, but if its get too bad, we'll prescribe steroids to help boost his weight." Alderson quickly reassured, "Now, the blood tests will return in a few days, and you have your next treatment on the eighteenth, correct?" Chris nodded to the doctor, "Well, we would like to put in a port after your next treatment,"
"Port?" inquired Piper.
The doctor nodded, "Yes, its basically an IV, but it will be placed under Chris's collarbone, it will be easier for him to get chemo that way, and they won't have to put an IV in his every week. It's a small surgery, out-patient and will only take a few hours."
Piper frowned, "And when will this take place?"
"A few days after his next treatment would be best. Perhaps the twenty-first?"
"That will do," Piper replied.
"Alright, until then." Alderson said with a small smile, "Now Chris please try to eat. Even if its just a few bites, anything is better than nothing."
Chris sighed but nodded nonetheless before he followed his mother out of the doctor's office.
Two weeks later, Chris found himself with a port underneath his collarbone and once again vomiting into the toilet. He could smell the broccoli casserole his mother made for the family, his own bowl of chicken noodle soup sitting with only a few spoonfuls missing. It was Wednesday, the day after his treatment and his nausea was at its worse. After his body was sure that every bit of food and nearly all his stomach acid found a new home in the bright blue water, he flushed it down the drain and groaned as he leaned against the sink counter. He was so sick of this, no pun attended. He wanted the anti-nausea pills the last time he went to the doctor, but they said that they wanted to keep him as many drugs as they could. But, he couldn't live like this. Chris snorted. He wouldn't, he had a deadly disease killing him. In the end, all of this will be for nothing.
"Ninety-seven pounds," Alderson read off with a heavy frown, "Nausea still bad?"
Chris nodded, his body worn down and he wanted to do nothing but crawl in bed and sleep. "Alright, we'll prescribe some anti-nausea drugs, hopefully that will calm your stomach down enough that you'll be able to get some calories into your body." the doctor explained as he led Chris and Piper back to the room, "Also, we got Chris's recent blood results back as we know and they're showing us that while the chemo is working, its not working fast enough. So, we're going to be adding another drug known as daunomycin to help combat the cancer cells more efficiently. It shouldn't give you anymore side-effects, so you don't have to worry about that."
Piper nodded mutely, afraid after hearing that the drugs that her son was already on wasn't doing their job. "And the anti-nausea drugs?"
"I'll fax the prescription to your pharmacy, they should be ready for pick up by time you get there. They'll start working after a few days they're introduced into your body. They won't get rid of all your nausea but they should calm it enough that you should be able to get some food into your body. We need to get that weight up or it could put us in a bad place."
Chris sighed. Eating was becoming a chore for him, and honestly he didn't look forward to taking these pills. He couldn't believe that he had to take a pill in order to even eat, it was ludicrous. Was he ever going to live a normal life again? Chris frowned and looked at his knees. Would he be able to live?