Of Silence and Warm Hands
Summary: (Terminally ill!SMQ fic) The news hit her like a truck. Hodgkin's Lymphoma? Cancer of the lymph nodes and blood? He only had a month left to live? What? Cancer was so overused in dramas but for someone you know to be diagnosed with it by the time they'd reached stage 4? A cancer that weakened the immune system so much so that cancer wouldn't be the only thing he'd come down with that would kill him in the end? A treatment that weakened the immune system even further all while digging them deep into debt, should they choose to pursue it? What?
CH.1 Warmth
Su Muqiu was a responsible and kind older brother and Su Mucheng knew it best. She'd always found warmth in those hands of his.
Or, maybe, the warmth was something else. She wouldn't have known then. Looking back, it was probably a hint at what was to come. Alas, the past was the past. There would be nothing they could do about what happened then.
Back then, she'd dismissed it as natural body warmth. After all, living bodies were warm. He didn't seem sick then. Of course, back then, they didn't know that those small and seemingly harmless symptoms were actually warning signs that would turn out to be something so serious.
One could easily infer that maybe they themselves were just cold. It was winter then, when she held his hand and looked up at him, following his lead as they walked home together that day. She'd mentally noted that his hands were warm. It was, after all, unlikely to detect a fever from feeling up one's hands. If anything, it would've been easier to detect it by feeling him up elsewhere.
Maybe, the whole thing hadn't started later than then, but she did take advantage of that warmth. She'd snuggled up to him many times, as if he were a human heater, when she was cold. Pieces of furniture he'd stayed on were notably hot but things that were coated in fabric tended to be good at retaining heat just as metal would be good at absorbing it, so those signs then were treated like they were nothing.
Was it warmth though? There was a fine line between warmth and heat. A fever could be determined by being even a little over one degree Celsius of what would be considered the natural body temperature. Getting too hot would mean the body melts itself from the inside but he never seemed sluggish then. What was considered a regular body temperature also seemed to change from species to species. As for humans, it was thirty-seven degrees Celsius or ninety-eight point six degrees Fahrenheit. Not like they'd have known then, as they wouldn't have had access to a thermometer. They were just two orphans who were kicked out of an orphanage, after all. Even with the addition of Ye Xiu to their little family, none of them had noticed then.
Now, it was far too late. The symptoms seemed like nothing, but as it turned out, it was something that they wouldn't have thought would be the problem. Fevers? That came with a lot of diseases and disorders. Night sweats? That came with a lot of things as well. Persistent cough? Maybe it would go away if he kept himself hydrated enough. Weight loss? Rashes? All those things pointed to so many things that would eventually go away if he took good enough care of himself. By the time, muscle weakness manifested, it had already been too late. It was only then when they (herself, Ye Xiu and the rest of what comprised of Excellent Era then) pushed him to go see a doctor after all.
The news hit her like a truck. Hodgkin's Lymphoma? Cancer of the lymph nodes and blood? He only had a month left to live? What? Cancer was so overused in dramas but for someone you know to be diagnosed with it by the time they'd reached stage 4? A cancer that weakened the immune system so much so that cancer wouldn't be the only thing he'd come down with that would kill him in the end? A treatment that weakened the immune system even further all while digging them deep into debt, should they choose to pursue it? What? What kind of cruel world-
Maybe, in some parallel world, Su Muqiu wouldn't die from terminal illness. He'd have died in a car accident instead. It was not that much different though. The only thing that changed was that his memory at least lived on in more people. The alliance would have remembered him. It did not make his death any less heartbreaking. He still died. He still died young. He still left his sister in the care of another and he'd still be forced to leave Glory. Death was cruel like that. It did not care if you had family or were alone. It did not care if you were young or old, male or female. It didn't matter, although statistically, males accounted for 55% of the cases of cancer. Even with all the research humanity had put into curing it, even the treatment was still uncertain. It still had no cure, although it could be treated, if that makes any sense.
"Warmth", maybe it wasn't warmth at all. It was a persistent fever that she'd had mistaken for warmth all those years. Of course, that thought hurt so much more since it meant she didn't notice that he even had a fever until it was far too late.
The hospital room was so white, and bare that it was depressing. It was as though the interior designer decided it would be a good idea to remind you that you were in a hospital room and that you'd probably stay there much longer than you'd want, like it was preparing to take you to the afterlife before you even actually died. The lights were dimmed and although the lights were positioned well enough to not be too bright for the occupants, it still made the room depressing. There near the center of the room with the headboard against the wall was the patient's bed where the dying youth lay. In the far end of the room was a window nearby a couch that doubled as a bed should there be family staying. There was a vase on the window sill with no flowers. There were two seats for if there were other visitors and between those was an end table with a glass top framed with mahogany. On the other end of the room was a door as well as the door to the room's bathroom.
Su Mucheng stood beside her brother, her shadow looming over him as the sun slowly set in the window behind her. Ye Xiu placed a hand over her shoulder. A gesture of comfort, for sure, but that didn't mean that it was effective. She held her dying brother's hand in her smaller ones tightly. Her skin was cool in contrast to that of the dying.
Outside the room, there was a sign. "Do not resuscitate" it read to all who passed the room through the corridors. It only meant that if the patient flat lined, they were not to perform procedures that would bring them back. Still, it spoke enough. They wouldn't want to pull the plug but they could only keep this up for so long. That was something all three of the people present in the room had agreed on.