BY VERY DEFINITION

18. The Hospital Part One: Whitney

Parker stumbled out of Kurt's truck the moment it pulled to a stop in the hospital parking lot. Kurt, Mercedes, and Tina were right behind her as she dashed into the building.

"Rhonda!" She shouted, spotting her foster-mother in the lobby. The rest of the glee club followed her as she ran to Rhonda's side. Rhonda put an arm around Parker's shoulders and hugged her to her side. "Rhonda, where's Quinn?"

"It's okay." She assured everyone, holding out her free hand in a calming gesture, "She's in a labor room. The doctors say she's not very dilated and she's not progressing very quickly. I think it' going to be a while." Rhonda led the club to one of the many hospital waiting rooms near Quinn's ward. They all spread out over the seat and couches, Mr. Schue reminded everyone that they were in a hospital and should keep quiet.

"Can I see her?" Parker asked Rhonda when everyone else had settled down.

"Of course." Rhonda responded quietly, "She was asking about you earlier." Rhonda led Parker down the hall and into room 312. Quinn was laying on the bed, her face was pale and sweaty. She looked completely exhausted, but unable to sleep. Her usually neat golden curls were spread out across her pillow in tangles. Quinn looked up when she heard the door open and smiled upon seeing Parker.

"Hey." Parker greeted her softly, flitting to her friend's side.

"You look good in your Cheerio uniform." Quinn complimented her.

"Thanks." Parker grinned, "I'm glad. How are you feeling?"

"Like there's a tiny human trying to push its way out of me!" Quinn complain, letting her head go slack on the pillow.

"I hate to break it to you, Quinn, but that's a good thing on account of that's exactly what's happening."

"You're so comforting." The pregnant girl said sarcastically.

"Sorry." Her friend said with a shrug, "I can't help it, it's my natural state of being."

"And that's a good thing because it keeps you honest." Quinn reminded herself.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing." Parker said.

"Thanks." Quinn said, "Wait!" She called after Parker, who was already partway to the door, "Could you send Puck in for me? Please?" Parker nodded and left. She returned to the waiting room and sent Puck in then she started to pace the length of the room.

"I need to walk." She told Rhonda after a few minutes, "I'll be back in a bit."

"Don't go too far!" Rhonda said, "And don't get lost."

Parker sat down on a couch in one of the hallways, staring at the hands she had clasped in her lap. After a few short minutes she heard the sound of tiny wheels rolling on the hospital floor and the approach of shuffling feet. The noises stopped right in front of her and Parker felt someone sit next to her on the couch. Parker glanced up and saw a small girl in a hospital gown sitting next to her, she looked around ten years old. The girls skin was pale and her face, limbs, and body were thin. Above her hallowed cheeks her eyes looked over-large and buggy with dark circles beneath them. She didn't have any eyebrows, and her head was covered with a white bandanna. There was a needle in the pale girl's arm and she was holding onto a moving hook that supported a clear IV bag. The smaller girl returned Parker's stare for several long moments.

"You don't look sick." The girl commented finally in a small voice.

"I'm not." Parker answered, "I'm waiting for my friend."

"What's wrong with your friend?"

"Nothing. She's having a baby." Parker answered. The little girl's face lit up.

"Ooh." She said softly, "Is it a girl baby or a boy baby?"

"A girl baby." Parker responded with a small smile, "But she hasn't been born yet."

"And that's why you're waiting." The younger girl said proudly, "I'm waiting too."

"Waiting for what?"

"They're gonna prep me for surgery in about a half hour. See, I've got a tumor right here," She pointed to herself somewhere just below the collarbone, "They tried Chemotherapy first but it didn't work. And now I'm bald! So they're going to cut me open and take it out. Don't worry!" She added quickly, "They said it's routine. No big deal." They were silent for a minute, then the girl held out her hand, "My name is Whitney."

"I'm Parker." Parker replied, taking her hand.

"That's a nice name." Whitney complimented, swinging her feet since they didn't reach the ground. Then she spied Parker's wardrobe, "Are you a cheerleader, Parker?"

"Yes." Parker answered, picking at her fuzzy red sleeve.

"That is so cool!" Whitney enthused, "I take gymnastics. Well, I haven't lately since I've been sick, but I was good at it. I want to be a Cheerleader when I'm old enough."

"How old are you?"

"I'm twelve." Twelve? Parker thought to herself, she's awfully small for twelve.

"Hey, Whitney?" Parker asked timidly, the little girl looked up at her, "Are you afraid of the surgery?"

"Not really." Whitney shrugged, "They said it's nothing to worry about. And I've been through surgery before. No, it's definitely better."

"Better than what?"

"Than the alternative." Whitney said as though it should have been obvious.

"Which is...?"

"Dying." Was the simple reply, "Suffering and dying."

"Are you afraid of dying?"

"Not really." Whitney said with another shrug, "I mean, not the actual death part. It's more the the withering. I'd wither and die with this disease. I know people always say things like 'remember me how I was' but people never do. They remember you as they last saw you. Now it's already bad, they'll remember me pale, and yellow, and papery. But if I don't get the surgery it'll get worse and worse, I'll be gross by the time it kills me. At least if I die during one of the surgeries they'll remember me as how I am now."

"They'll remember you for being that fun little girl you've always been." Parker assured her.

"You don't know me." Whitney smiled shyly.

"I can tell." She's such a sweet little girl, how can anyone not like her? And she's brave, staring death in the face like she is. And she's worried about being remembered, not about suffering. "You're very brave, too. People will remember that. My friend is having a baby, and I hope that little girl turns out like you." Whitney blushed, there wasn't enough blood in her face to turn it as red as it should have, but it gave it a pleasant tinge of pink.

"You're very nice. I think the baby should turn out like you." Whitney insisted.

"You're so sweet." Parker laughed, nudging the younger girl's elbow with her own, Whitney nudged back.

"Then the baby will be a Cheerleader, just like us!" Whitney giggled, "Why did you become a cheerleader? You're blushing!" She cried jubilantly, Parker tried to cover her burning face with her hand without much success.

"I...there's this boy." Parker muttered.

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"No..."

"Not yet. I think he will be." Whitney announced.

"What makes you say that?" Parker asked in surprise.

"He'd be lucky to have you." Whitney grinned, "You should have a boyfriend, you're old enough. I've never had a boyfriend."

"You're only twelve." Parker said soothingly, "You have plenty of time for boyfriends. And you know what? When you're a cheerleader every boy will want to be your boyfriend."

"You think so?" The girl asked hopefully.

"I know so." Parker insisted.

"I hope my parents let me go back to school."

"What do you mean?" The older girl asked.

"We didn't notice that I had a tumor right away." Whitney said sadly, "We found it almost too late. They said that the effects were accelerated by my environment. It was things like lead paint, and the type of markers we used, and what they sprayed on the plants outside. They all made it worse, so there's more pain then there would have been, and more side effects."

"That's horrible." Parker whispered.

"Yeah." Whitney sighed and looked down, "You don't know what it's like, knowing that someone caused all of your pain. Knowing that someone else did it to you." Parker looked down too, playing with the finger holes in her gloves nervously.

After a solid minute of silence, Parker spoke, "Yes, I do."

"Huh?" Whitney asked curiously. With a sigh, the older girl stripped off her gloves and revealed her scars. Whitney's eyes widened, and if she'd had any eyebrows, they would have shot up. "What happened?" Whitney asked.

"It was my dad." Parker admitted for the first time in her life. This little girl that she had just met...she was the only person Parker knew who might understand, she knew what it was like to be hurt and scared. Parker knew what scared Whitney, now it was time for her to return the favor. "He wasn't a very nice person. I've had some of these scars since before I can remember. He'd always grab me, or drip wax on me, or push me around. And you know what? I didn't know that it wasn't okay. For the longest time I thought it was normal for him to do that. What happened to you wasn't okay, and you know that. It's never okay for someone to hurt you."

"What about your mom?" Whitney asked softly.

"She knew." Parker sighed, "But then...she stopped caring, kind of."

"What do you mean?" The younger girl pressed.

"I'll tell you when you're older." Parker promised.

"Did you have any brothers or sisters?"

"I don't remember." Parker's eyes clouded over, and Whitney guessed that Parker did remember.

"I have a sister." Whitney said, moving her hands to adjust her bandanna, "She's five, Gracie. She's not here right now, they won't be able to get her here until after my surgery."

"You know, if I'd had a little sister, I would have loved her so much." The redhead said, almost to herself.

"I do love Gracie." Her companion insisted, "I love her a lot. But I guess I don't say it enough. Actually, I never say it. I don't think I've ever told Gracie how much I love her."

"Tell her when she gets here." Parker suggested, "When you're out of surgery, make sure she knows."

"I will." Whitney looked around, "I hope things go well for your friend, and for you. I hope that boy you like sees you for who you are."

"You're leaving?" Parker asked, feeling a little put out.

"I have to go get ready for surgery." The girl insisted, standing up.

"Good luck." Parker said to her.

"You too." Whitney said over her shoulder. Parker watched her leave until the small girl and her IV disappeared around a corner. Slowly, she put her gloves back on before anyone saw what was under them. She felt better, somehow. Like she had been waiting for the right person to tell about her dad. And she was glad that she met Whitney, she was glad that she told her the truth instead of brushing it off. More than that, she really liked little Whitney. She'd have to remember to look her up later, she very much wanted to talk to her again someday. After a minute Parker stood up and headed toward the waiting room, ready to face the rest of the Glee club and get an update on Quinn.

I just realized that I didn't cite my songs in the last two chapters! GASP!

Chapter 16: "I'm Not That Girl" From Wicked (as sung by Idina Menzel)
Chapter 17: "Popular" also From Wicked (as sung by Kristen Chenoweth(tweaked to fit the context))

REIVEW!
(This is of utmost importance!)

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(Hehe, I spiffed out the arrow. Isn't it cooler now?)