Title: Creeping On A Stranger
Word Count: 9,332
Summary: Seblaine Week 2014: Day 1 (Alternative Meeting). Sebastian has always had a habit of getting in the way and making a nuisance of himself. Since his little sister had gotten sick when he was eleven, he has spent years trying to gain back the attention of his parents.
Disclaimer: I am in no way associated with Glee, FOX, Ryan Murphy or anything else related to the FOX universe.
Warnings/Spoilers: Imagininations of a funeral. Underage alcohol use.
By the time it reaches four, Sebastian starts pacing. It doesn't matter how many times Blaine tries to get him to sit again. He just can't really handle the thought of being still. He's far too restless, far too desperate to work off the nervous energy. The brief moments that his ass touches the cushions are filled with so much vibrating anxiety that he's soon up and off the couch to pace again. He can't calm down. He can't focus. He can't think. They must be close to the six hour mark. Surely it has to be going okay because if Lillian had coded on the table then they- they-
He covers his face to hide how it twists with fear at the thought, shakes his head in an attempt to dispel it, pivots on the spot and crosses the same strip of floor for the twentieth or fiftieth or three thousandth time. All he can think about are the bad things, the terrible outcomes. He labours over whether Lillian will make it. He wonders whether Dalton was a temporary thing to keep him out of his parents' way and to ensure he ate, slept, went to school or if it will become permanent because evidently his father can't stand him. He frets over the idea that Lillian won't make it and the impact it could have on his parents. What happens if grief divides them? What happens if his mother wants him back? What happens if the money is split up and Dalton isn't affordable? What happens if he's meant to go back to Westerville High? What happens if he suggests to Blaine that he should go to Dalton because it would be safer and then he's forced to leave because there's no money and his parents pull him out of the school? What happens if his parents get so lost grieving for Lillian that they completely forget about him? What happens if they pretend he doesn't exist and he ends up essentially orphaned by them? What happens if they send him away to stay with his grandparents? What happens if-?
"You're making me sick," Hunter complains when he passes close enough his roommate. He doesn't deign to comment because he thinks responding might just unleash the torrent of his worries. Instead, he continues counting steps in his head while he twists through all the possibilities, all the 'what ifs', all the things he hasn't dared think for years but now… Now is apparently the time he can't stop thinking about them and he can't get them out of his mind.
He has visions of a small white casket inlaid with dark timber, ornate chrome handles on the sides. There's a dark wooden trim embossed with flowers that somehow match the multi-coloured floral arrangement on top. Creepers cascade over the casket like a waterfall. It's a cool spring day with a few clouds marring a colourless sky. His mother wears a modest black dress with a hat that has a piece of netting covering her face. His father wears a black suit over a black shirt.
Sebastian stands separated from them, feeling like a ghost that can only silently observe the proceedings. Blaine is beside him in a wheelchair wearing, oddly enough, a black bow tie. Hunter stands on the other side of him in full Dalton uniform. Wes is beside Hunter.
There are other people gathered around the grave – Therese, Cynthia, Sinead, Charlie Hopper, other nurses and doctors from the hospital, some school friends of Lillian's that he doubts she'd seen recently, his grandparents on his mother's side and his grandmother on his father's – and they all seem to be holding white roses and white handkerchiefs and white-
"Seb." Blaine stands in the middle of his path, his hands raised to press against Sebastian's chest when he's forced to stop. His honey-coloured eyes are wide with concern as his fingers curl into the lapels of his blazer to hold him steady. "Can I help?"
He shakes his head. He has no capacity to use his words right now. He's far too engulfed with fear.
Blaine cradles Sebastian's cheek, his thumb dragging along the slick of tears he hadn't even realised had slipped down his skin. "I'm here for you," Blaine whispers before he returns to his spot on the couch.
It's difficult to find his rhythm again. The interruption to his pacing has jarred his concentration. The knowledge of damp trails on his cheeks makes him aware that his hands are shaking and his heart rate is leaping and his breathing is uneven. His renewed attempt at pacing falters, his steps turning into stumbles. When he can barely stand up, he falls to the couch and presses into Blaine's side. His face gets hidden by Blaine's chest as sobs seize his chest all over again. He thought he'd drained himself hours ago.
Blaine's fingers stroke through his hair to curl around the back of his neck. His thumb digs in with soothing circles. Like the last time he'd broken down in Blaine's arms, the gesture helps unspool some of his upset.
"What happens if she survives?" Blaine says against his ear as he slowly rocks Sebastian back and forth and his fingers roam constantly against his back, his neck, his hair. "Will you take her to the park in the summer and fly a kite with her? What stories will you read her at bedtime? What costume will you make her wear when you go trick-or-treating at Halloween? Which cartoons will you watch on Saturday morning?"
His heart aches with the images Blaine forces into his mind. They're the pictures he hasn't dared to imagine because it gives him hope and he's always been too scared to hope. If he has hope and it all goes wrong, he's pretty sure he'll be destroyed beyond recognition.
It's a struggle to contain his emotions as he clings to Blaine's shirt as if it's the only thing which will stop him from drowning. "D-Don't," he gasps out, shaking his head against Blaine's chest. He can't bear the thoughts Blaine offers him. He can so easily turn Blaine's words negative – what happens if she's not alive in the summer to fly a kite, or read bedtime stories to, or go trick-or-treating at Halloween with, or watch Saturday morning cartoons?
"Stop thinking the worst," Blaine murmurs, pressing his thumb against a particularly sensitive spot on the side of his neck that makes his shoulders tremble. "Stop thinking that you're going to lose her. She's a fighter, just like you."
He wants to believe it, every part of his body wants to believe it, but he can't because he's too afraid about what will happen if she doesn't make it. He feels as though he'd start running from the hospital and keep going until he found Terry and drank until he died. The thoughts are so dark that he doesn't want to entertain them too much. He doesn't want to think about the shattering heartbreak.
He cries against Blaine until his eyes are too dry, too worn out, to shed tears and all he has left are weak, breathless, tearless sobs. Blaine eases him down, letting him curl into his lap again and Hunter drapes the blanket over his body with a brief squeeze to his shoulder. He tries to draw comfort from Blaine's steady hand moving through his hair but his mind is spinning through a thousand negative and ten positive things and it's impossible to concentrate.
Time ticks by. The only reason he's aware of it moving is because he can feel his heart giving a slow pound against his ribcage, bruising his bones with the strength of how much his heart hurts. He wonders what Lillian's heart looks like, how small it might be, how damaged it is. He wonders if you can tell it doesn't work properly from the outside or if you have to dissect it to understand. He remembers the frog his lab partner, Mark, dissected in Biology a couple of months ago. He remembers looking at the tiny chambers of its heart and thinking about Lillian's heart. He'd gotten so upset that he'd refused to complete the task and walked out. Now though… Now he wonders what sort of deformities you could see in Lillian's heart after it had been removed from her body like little Kermit's had been.
At some point, Hunter takes out his phone and starts fiddling with it again. Sebastian's not sure if he's texting people or playing games but he doesn't want to know. He doesn't want to think about the potential for pitying looks if Hunter has been telling Warbler members what's going on. Are strangers in a musical group with his roommate likely to try hugging him? Or shaking his hand? Or reaching out to him when he'll want to pull away? Will their interest in him be genuine or artificial because they thrive on gossip like public schoolers?
No, he doesn't want to know if Hunter's messaging people because he doesn't want to think that Hunter is messaging people about him.
"Seb." Blaine's urgent voice penetrates his anxiety as his shoulder gets shaken. "Seb. Sit up."
He blinks up at the boy which breaks his staring contest with the wall. Blaine's hands help raise him and keep him steady when the waiting room spins around him. Once he can see straight, it only takes him a fraction of a second to understand why Blaine had sounded so panicked.
He recognises Charlie Hopper immediately. After years of being in and out of his office for appointments with Lillian cuddled into Sebastian's lap, after years of seeing him monitor Lillian and run numerous tests on her, after years of watching him deliver good news and bad after surgeries, he recognises his sister's cardiologist. Charlie lingers by the door, dressed in clean, dark green scrubs with a pink cap covered in monkeys hiding his curly blonde hair. His white lab coat has a rainbow pin on it and below that a star. He looks fresh-faced and well-rested, not a man that's just performed life-saving surgery for the past God-only-knew how many hours.
Sebastian is on his feet in an instant, skittering away from Blaine and Hunter to approach the doctor. He gazes at Charlie desperately, trying to read his expression which is about as neutral as he's ever seen it. He's no longer sure he's breathing. He can feel Hunter moving to stand beside him and wishes he had Blaine's hand to hold.
He can hear the hurried footsteps of his parents moving through the room, their harried voices calling Charlie's name, but he doesn't care because everything slows to a fraction of normal speed. Every heartbeat can be heard louder than anything else around him. Every breath can be felt scraping the insides of his lungs. Every whistle and beep and whoosh of every piece of medical equipment in the entire hospital narrows down to this one moment.
Charlie's eyes meet his and he gives the tiniest of nods.
Sebastian nearly collapses.
"Charlie? Charlie!" His mother almost runs straight into Charlie, grabbing him by the shoulders and practically shaking the doctor out of his coat. "What is- Is she- How-"
Charlie catches Amelia's hands and holds them between his own. His blue eyes are intent as they meet Amelia's panicked stare. "She's in recovery, Mia," Charlie says and she draws one hand away to cover her mouth as a pained sob gurgles in her throat. "You know as well as I do that she's not out of the woods yet, but this is an enormous step on her path out of them."
Sebastian turns to press himself into Hunter's arms only because he doesn't have the strength to wobble over to Blaine and sink into his embrace right now. He can smell Hunter's cologne and soap, and the generic detergent used by the school when their uniforms get laundered each week. It's not as familiar as Lillian's scent and his hugs aren't as comforting as Blaine's, but Hunter's arms are strong enough to keep him upright and his hands smooth over Sebastian's back when his roommate feels how badly he's shaking.
Somewhere behind him, he can hear his mother sobbing and thanking Charlie. He can hear the gruff breaths of his father as he probably attempts to rein in his tears. He wishes he cared about how he looked but he doesn't. He clutches Hunter because if he lets go, he's pretty sure he'd end up in a tangled heap on the floor again.
"You will probably be able to see her in recovery in about a half hour," Charlie says. The words sound distant to Sebastian because all he can really think about is that Blaine was right: Lillian's alive. It's almost too much to process. "She'll be on a ventilator for a couple of days to take the stress off the heart. We'll be monitoring her very closely in the CICU rather than the PICU this time, at least for the next couple of weeks. But we'll talk about all that later, okay?"
Sebastian can feel his knees beginning to buckle under the strain of staying on his feet. The past four years has led to this. The past four years has led to his sister getting a transplant. The past four years has led to his sister surviving the surgery. Lillian might be okay. Lillian might be able to lead a normal life for the next decade or two and maybe by then, some new procedure will have come along or maybe they'll have to source her a new heart but for now… For now, Lillian is alive and has another chance at living.
Hunter's arms shift around his waist when he begins to crumple, gripping him so tightly he fears his roommate might crack a rib. "Okay, Seb... Come on," Hunter mutters, guiding him to the sofa. He sinks to the cushions and allows Blaine's arms to curl around his shoulders, pulling him closer until he has the skin of Blaine's neck to tuck his face into.
"I told you so," Blaine whispers into his ear and he manages the softest of tearful laughs and a kiss to beneath Blaine's jaw. His fingers tangle into Blaine's cardigan while Hunter's hand clasps his shoulder.
Lillian's going to be okay.
There's really nothing else that matters to him right now
Marcus the nurse enters the waiting room a little over half an hour later to take family to see Lillian. Sebastian separates himself from Blaine's arms and rises to his feet. His relief that Lillian would be okay had given way to a crushing numbness about ten minutes ago. He hopes the blank feeling is only because he's emotionally worn out.
His parents are on their feet too, closer to the door, closer to Marcus. The nurse looks over their shoulder at him and gives a nod – is he in league with Therese too? – when his father turns around with a fierce glare marring his face.
And it's only then, only when his father has a look so angry that it could incinerate a frozen tree, that he understands.
Going to Dalton hadn't been about placing him in an environment where he could be kept safe. Going to Dalton hadn't been about the convenience of reducing the cooking and cleaning and washing up. Going to Dalton hadn't been about ensuring he was taking care of himself – or that other people were taking care of him. Going to Dalton hadn't been about his parents needing to invest greater time in Lillian's health so they wanted to make sure he was still okay.
Going to Dalton had been because he wasn't wanted as a member of the family anymore.
"I… I'll go later," he mumbles, wilting under his father's expression and stepping back. He collides with Hunter's outstretched hand and it stings his singed nerves.
Marcus offers a weak smile when he follows Sebastian's parents out of the room but he's too busy struggling to comprehend the rejection he's just felt with a single look. For months, he'd been trying to understand the dynamics of his parents and why he'd been so isolated at Dalton and now he gets why there's been so much isolation but he doesn't get why it's coming from his father.
It had been clear earlier that his father hadn't wanted him here but he doesn't recall ever being so rude to his father that it would warrant this level of hostility in their relationship, this sort of severance to their relationship. His father had never really been around enough in recent years for them to have proper conversations. There'd been a time a few years ago that Sebastian wondered if his father was having an affair because of all the late nights.
"Sebastian?" Therese's hand comes out of nowhere to settle on his bicep firmly. "How about we sit down?"
Her tone is similar to the one she'd used earlier with his father. He feels powerless to resist it. He's torn in too many directions.
She takes him to a different chair, away from Blaine and Hunter who are scrutinising him. He hadn't wanted them to see the frosty relationship he has with his parents. It's shameful and disgusting and he lowers his head to stare at the floor. An ache settles in the middle of his chest, filling him with pulsing bursts of agonising pain.
"Do you know what to expect when you see Lillian?" Therese asks, the cushions of the couch dipping beside him when she sits. Her hand drags slowly over his back, vaguely motherly, vaguely comforting, vaguely adding to his hurt.
At first, he nods. Then he realises he's not so sure so he shakes his head. Then he figures he probably has some idea but maybe not the whole idea so he settles on a shrug.
"Wires. Tubes. Sleepy disorientation. Same as any other time," he murmurs, folding his trembling fingers into a tight knot as he swallows the urge to cry. Lillian will be okay. Lillian will be okay. But he has other pressing feelings and thoughts and maybe Therese has answers. "Did you- Did you know my parents were…?"
"I knew they'd shut you out," Therese says gently and his head lowers further. Did everyone in the hospital know and his parents had deliberately left him out of the loop? Did they think that ignoring him would make them forget his entire existence? "I'd…heard rumours you were abusing alcohol and they didn't want you to be around Lillian. They thought you'd be a bad influence on her recovery."
He grimaces but doesn't attempt to deny her words. He's too exhausted to lie. He's too emotional to spin elaborate stories. He's too drained to wave away concerned questions with a smile. At a time like this, he has none of his usual bravado to draw on and, quite probably, Therese would see straight through him anyway.
The realisation that his parents had deliberately alienated him doesn't just leave him feeling vulnerable to the words of others – it leaves him feeling totally exposed to the damage they could inflict on him. The look his father had given was enough to drop him to the ground and shatter him into a million pieces.
"It was late January when I asked your mother how you were. I hadn't seen you around for a couple of weeks and I knew you visited Lillian regularly when they weren't here. We were working a shift together and she looked away and shrugged. She moved some patient files around and said she was sure you were doing fine." Therese pauses and Sebastian turns his head to look at her. She presses her lips together as she watches him for a moment. "I forced the issue. I wanted to know why she was 'sure' of it rather than actually knowing, and she said she had a sick daughter to worry about and a son she couldn't take care of anymore. I didn't understand what she meant at the time."
He covers his mouth in an attempt to stop the pain he feels escaping into the air and infecting everyone around him. His father's coldness had been obvious but, he realises, his father had at least done something today. His mother had been completely absent, wrapped up in her grief and forgetting he was there entirely.
Therese's words pierce through all his exposed layers and sink directly into his heart.
Therese smiles sympathetically, her hand stilling between his shoulder blades. "So I quietly passed word around the hospital that if you visited Lillian, we weren't going to tell Amelia. If we knew you were in the building and heard that your parents were approaching the PICU, then someone had to delay her and get word to whoever was at the nurse's station to tell you to leave ASAP."
He stares at her. He's still in agony but he's also utterly dumbfounded.
"I have no doubt that the talk of your underage habits were told by your mother to someone else, who gossiped about it to someone else. So I might have played dirty by passing around my own rumours that I thought your parents weren't taking an active interest in your welfare since you'd been placed in a boarding school." Therese has a grin on her face that borders on smug. He can't tell if he's impressed or appalled by her actions. "I'm not wrong, am I?"
He opens his mouth to say something but ends up shaking his head, looking away as he grits his teeth together. It hurts more than he wants to admit that she's right.
"I didn't… I had no idea it was that bad with them," he eventually admits, scratching at a spot on his arm for something to do to keep his hands busy. It's turned faintly pink by the time Therese's hand covers his to stop his movements. "They haven't…spoken to me since they left me there and that was… That was the beginning of January."
"Oh Seb," Therese breathes, drawing him into a hug that makes him hurt all the way down to his bones. "I could make excuses about their behaviour because of Lillian's health, but that's not fair to you or her. You're their child too."
He snorts derisively and shrugs her arms off him. "I haven't been their child for a long time. I think that might have happened a long time before I ended up at Dalton," he mutters, glancing towards the door to see if anyone had come to collect him so he can visit Lillian.
"Is that…why you've been drinking?" Therese says cautiously, withdrawing her hands and mirroring the way he's sitting with her hands in her lap.
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He doesn't want to talk about this. Therese has already admitted to spreading rumours and gossip, although they were ones which had helped him see Lillian unimpeded. She says she's on his side but…how much can he really trust her? It's not like he'd talk to his parents about this but, in light of how they apparently feel about him, he's not sure who he's meant to confide in. Blaine's his closest friend and Hunter is his roommate but they're still only teenagers too. How much can they help him if he fragments into even more pieces? The reaction of his father this afternoon is crushing and he aches for something to take away the pain.
"It hasn't just been drinking," he confesses, tapping his feet against the floor nervously as he glances at her and then away again. "It took away the hurt. I didn't have to think anymore."
Therese reaches for his hands and holds onto them firmly. He doesn't attempt to pull away from them this time. There's something in her actions which is so supportive that he feels oddly comforted and doesn't want to let go. "Have you been referred to any sort of programs?"
His blood runs cold as he looks at her, wanting to wrench his hands away and return to sitting with Blaine. "I'm not an alcoholic or an addict or anything," he says sharply, his heart beating quickly in his chest. "Dalton has forced me into sobriety."
Her eyes scan his face, her mouth pressing into a thin line. "So even though you haven't been using for the past four months, it hasn't been on your mind? When it all gets too hard, you don't immediately wish for a fix to help it all go away?"
He opens his mouth to respond before he's forced to close it and looks to the door again. Bitch, he thinks. He can't argue with a nurse that probably knows a lot about a variety of medical conditions. "I don't have access to it anyway," he mutters, as if that's enough to quench his desires. She's wrong too, though he won't correct her. He has used in the past four months and he's itchy all over to use again.
As if she knows his thoughts, as if she can understand, Therese squeezes his hands. "That's only one part of the equation, Seb. I can't force you to do anything but will you at least let me give you some pamphlets the next time you come to the hospital?"
His nose wrinkles at the thought that he needs to get pamphlets on how to sort himself out, yet he can accept that she's only trying to help and some of his anger ebbs away. He knows his habits are incredibly dangerous. The breakdown he barely remembers in the park a few weeks ago is enough proof that he can get terribly wasted and in a horrible mental place. Summer holidays are barely six weeks away and then what was going to happen? Where was he going to go? Home to parents that couldn't stand him? Home to where he could get hooked up with Terry's supplies every day?
"Fine," he relents, if only to make Therese happy. He stares down at his hands again and realises he'll have to find somewhere safe in his room that Hunter won't find the stupid pamphlets. He doesn't need any problem he has to become something Hunter's nosiness takes a great interest in. Hunter is already all over him like a bad rash sometimes.
"Do you have people to go to when you're upset?" Therese asks, brushing her thumb over the back of his hand. "A safe place to get away when things get problematic at home?"
He laughs, something soft and dry and scratchy in his throat. "Why do you think I get so wasted?" he challenges, looking at her out of the corner of his eye.
She nods and gives him another small smile. "How about I give you my number and address so if something goes wrong at home or at school, you give me a call and spend some time at my place?" Therese offers, pressing an index finger to beneath his chin so she can turn his head. Her own tilts, as if to appraise him carefully. "I've got a son a little older than you and twin girls a few years younger than Lillian. You could play video games with him or Barbies with the girls if you wanted. It's just so you have somewhere else to go."
He squints at her because he'd always assumed Therese to be in her fifties, but somehow the maths of twins younger than Lillian doesn't really add up in his head. Maybe she's younger than he'd always thought. But then again, she has a son a little older than him…
"I realise there's no guarantees you'll show, Seb. I'm just giving you an option if you ever need it," Therese says, perhaps misreading the look he gives her for one of distrust.
Sebastian's pretty sure his mother would hit the roof if she knew he'd absconded from his house and gone to one of her colleague's – especially one that has been spreading rumours around their workplace about his mother's care for him – but he can't deny that having other options is probably a good thing. He doesn't yet know what's going to happen in the summer. Maybe his parents won't even want him home. Maybe he'll stay at Dalton. Maybe if he can't, they'll shove him in a hotel or offload him to his grandparents. Maybe they won't even think about how it's summer holidays because they'll be too wrapped up in Lillian's recovery.
Which means that maybe having Therese as an option is the smartest move possible when everything is so uncertain.
"Okay," he says, passing his phone to her so she can enter in her details. He glances over to Blaine and Hunter, who are pointedly looking away in an effort to offer them some privacy. He finds himself fidgeting while he waits for her, not quite sure where to look. "Thank you for…for looking out for me the past few months," he says hesitantly, nipping at his bottom lip. "I had no idea there was such an underground network going on."
Therese laughs and then curses when her fingers make a mistake. "Some of us have been here long enough to remember when Amelia was pregnant with you. We remember you toddling into work with her and being fascinated with sticking plasters all over your face or crying when it was immunisation time." She hands the phone back to him with her home and mobile numbers listed as well as her address. "You're as much Amelia's child as our own, Seb. We look out for you because we know it's been a hard four years on your whole family and it's not hard to see that when you ask Mia a question, it's all about Lillian and never about you."
It hurts to hear that his mother is as obsessed with Lillian at work as she is at home, especially at the expense of his own acknowledgement, but he's not surprised. He's pretty sure he hasn't been thought of by either of his parents for years. He's not sure anything will ever hurt more than the empty house at Christmas, although his father's attitude today has come pretty close.
"That network will be here for you, day and night, if you ever need it, Sebastian," Therese says, her hand wrapping around his wrist firmly. "You've got a lot of people who care about you here and it's just unfortunate none of us realised how badly you were struggling or how isolated you'd become from your parents when you were at home."
He offers a weak smile, unwilling to accept that things had really gotten so out of control. The pressure of her hand increases briefly before she draws away.
"Do you want them there when you visit Lillian?"
He blinks at the sudden change in topic, surprised she would even suggest something like that. He's not sure he wants to be anywhere near his parents even though he wants to see Lillian more than anything right now. "Is that even possible?"
She grins and pats his knee, something that might almost seem condescending but instead just seems conspiratorial. "I can click my fingers and make anything happen in this hospital, Seb," she says and Sebastian thinks he might just believe her. Therese appears to hold an unexpectedly large amount of power. "I'll get Charlie to pull them away to discuss post-operative care and her options for returning home. Does that sound like a good excuse to give you and Lillian some time together?"
"Sounds amazing," he breathes, feeling awed and disbelieving that anyone would go to such lengths for him. The acceptance of people at Dalton is still fleeting due to his minimal engagement with anyone, but Therese has known him since he was a baby. He'd always suspected there was an underground network at the hospital, but he'd thought it was geared towards tattling on his movements to his mother not protecting him.
"She's probably going to be in an induced coma for a few days, so don't expect to hold a conversation with her or cuddle into bed with her like you've been doing despite hospital policy," Therese says, her voice jokingly stern as she gives him a wink. "But I'm sure she'd love to hear your voice and have you hold her hand. She adores you."
He smiles, feeling his cheeks flush as he looks away. It's nice to be reassured that he matters to Lillian as much as his sister matters to him. "I adore her," he says softly.
"That's exactly why I'll find Charlie and give him the heads up." She pats his knee again. "Take care of yourself, Sebastian. And if you need me for anything, you give me a call. Got it?"
"Thank you," he says, honestly overwhelmed by her extensive generosity. She smiles and departs to find his sister's cardiologist.
It's only when he's alone that the conversation starts to sink in. He guesses the best way to describe his feelings about the entire situation is dazed.
He glances at Blaine and Hunter. Stomach somersaulting with nerves, he pulls his phone from his pocket to send a brief message before Marcus enters the room and draws him away from dwelling too long on his disbelief and confusion about Therese's abilities in the hospital.
"Sebastian?"
He rises on feet that feel unsteady, perhaps as the weight of what he's about to see settles on his shoulders. He offers Blaine and Hunter a smile that he hopes doesn't look too pained or too scared and follows Marcus out of the room. The nurse leads him down a corridor where they pause before some double doors, a bottle of disinfectant gel and disposable face mask waiting for him. He recognises the process and his heart does a flip. Lillian will spend the rest of her life trying to avoid any and all illnesses because of the immune-suppression drugs.
"Do you want me to stay with you?" Marcus says as Sebastian rubs the gel over the entirety of his hands and wrists, hoping to kill every bug that might linger on his flesh, before he pulls on the mask.
"I'll be fine," he murmurs, needing time and space to be with Lillian. He's grieved most of the day but he needs a moment to let his guard down, to breathe on his own without someone hovering over him because they're afraid he'll go to pieces. He follows Marcus past rows of curtained beds until they reach a small room with a closed door. It hurts to think Lillian is still separated from everyone even though he understands the risks she's facing.
"I'll let you know when your parents are going to come back," Marcus says with a short squeeze to his shoulder before he walks away.
Sebastian finds himself wondering if Marcus is part of the secret network Therese has set up too.
He inhales deeply, attempting to calm himself, attempting to steel himself against what he'll see, before he pushes open the door. He can't help the immediate rush of tears that bead in the corners of his eyes as he takes in Lillian's tiny form, surrounded by enormous machines that beep and whistle and whoosh. It's difficult to move away from the door because a part of him just wants to turn and flee. He does, eventually, manage to step inside and shut the door behind him before he approaches the bed.
"Hey, Lils," he whispers, struggling to lean in and find a spot on her forehead to kiss. His hand carefully works beneath hers to hold, gripping her tiny fingers with as much strength as he can. He tries not to be upset that her hand is limp within his as he looks at her. He's seen her like this before, hooked up to the heart monitors and the ventilators and the IV machines, and even though the prognosis is better this time, it's still terrifying to him. She looks so small, so capable of disintegrating and disappearing. Knowing that she has someone else's heart in her chest now and her body is trying to learn how to use it is pretty weird too.
"You'd better get so much healthier now, Lillian Marie Smythe," he says quietly but firmly, dragging a chair closer so he can sit and grip her hand within his. He listens to the regular beeps around him and tries not to think too much that it's someone else's heart beating. It makes his stomach churn. "You scared the absolute hell out of me today and I don't want you doing that again."
He runs his thumb over her knuckles, wondering if her skin seems paler than usual or if it's just the fluorescent lights overhead. She seems almost translucent and he has no idea if that's normal after a heart transplant. Maybe she lost a lot of blood during the operation? Or maybe the lights in her PICU room have been so low lately that her months without sunlight has caused the change?
"I love you, Lils. I love you and I…" His voice cracks as fresh tears start to spill down his cheeks, his eyes itching again because his tear ducts have clearly worked overtime today. "Mom and Dad… They don't- They don't even know what you know but Dad can't… He was so mad, Lillian. He didn't want me here for you and I…" He sniffles and wipes at his cheeks with the sleeve of his blazer. "They don't love me as much as you. I always thought it but it hurt too much to think about and…and now I know it and I just…"
He lowers his head, his shoulders trembling as he clings to her hand and listens to the bleep and whirr of the machines, trying to draw comfort from the fact that she's okay, she's alive and she survived her heart transplant surgery. "No matter what happens, no…no matter what they tell you or…what they do to me or our relationship, I'll always be your brother, Lils," he murmurs, kissing the knuckles of her hand gently and pressing it to his forehead. It feels like he's saying a prayer by her bedside, as if he's preparing himself for her inevitable death. "And I will care for you and fight for you, even if…even if I'm fighting them to do so because you're worth it and…we're worth it."
He feels his phone buzz in his pocket and sneaks a peek at the screen. He's got fifteen minutes. He has no idea if his parents are retuning sooner rather than later, but he knows he won't be here much longer. He has no intention of another confrontation with his father by Lillian's bedside.
"I love you, Lillian." He stands and leans over the bed to kiss her forehead again, smoothing a few strands of pale blonde hair from her face. She looks barely recognisable beneath the oxygen mask that takes up such a huge portion of her face. "Get better, little angel. I need to hear you call me a dumbass again."
He watches her for a minute, memorising as many details as he can of her face – the dark circles beneath her eyes, her sunken and sallow cheeks, the prominence of her forehead and jaw, the smattering of freckles across her skin which mirror his – and praying that she'll heal, she'll get better, she'll get out of here. He carefully lowers her hand back to the hospital bed and leaves without a backwards glance. He's said his piece and he doesn't want to be anywhere near his parents right now. Another confrontation might just push him past his limits of being able to cope with the emotional rollercoaster of the day that seems to have stretched on for weeks.
He re-enters the waiting room and wanders over to where he left Blaine and Hunter. They both sit up straighter as he approaches, Hunter sliding his phone into his blazer pocket.
"You saw her?" Blaine says as he sits, immediately moving to run his fingers through Sebastian's probably haphazard hair.
He nods, leaning into Blaine's comforting embrace because he's not sure he has the words right now to express what she looked like. It will be an image that will haunt his nightmares for months, regardless of the fact she's on the mend. Blaine's fingers scratch against his scalp gently, rhythmically, and it gradually slows the frantic tattoo of his heart against his ribcage.
"I need to leave soon," he says, raising his eyes to meet Hunter's and trying not to look uncomfortable, like he has something to hide. "I don't want to have another fight with them today so it's easier to leave quickly."
Hunter nods and Sebastian tries to pretend it's not as scrutinising as it seems. "Fair enough," his roommate concedes.
"I need to…" He draws away from Blaine, the lies twisting around his tongue and making him feel a little ashamed. He hopes that the stress of the day, or seeing Lillian, is enough for him to explain why he's so scattered. "I need to go for a little walk and just…clear my head before we get a taxi back to school. Meet you where we got dropped off in 20?"
Hunter nods again. "I need to find a bathroom anyway."
Sebastian gives him some directions to the nearest toilet. He watches his roommate depart before he turns his attention to Blaine.
"Are you going to be okay?" the boy asks immediately, cupping his cheeks with both hands to maintain eye contact when all he wants to do is hide his face. Maybe that's why Blaine beats him to it.
"I'll do better than if the transplant hadn't been successful," he mumbles, leaning in to kiss Blaine's cheek. "Thank you for being here today. I would have lost my mind."
Blaine's cheeks turn pink and his eyes seem distant when he strokes some of the hair from Sebastian's face. "I told you I wouldn't have been anywhere else. I told you I'd be here for you.
Sebastian reaches up to remove Blaine's hand from his face and squeezes it tightly, determined to make Blaine understand how important having such a friend had been today. "I still appreciate it, B."
Blaine smiles shyly but squeezes back. "Call me soon, okay? And I'll try to get info from Therese on how Lillian is doing if your parents won't tell you."
He smiles weakly at the suggestion that his parents will continue to keep him in the dark. He distracts himself by dragging his fingertips over the back of Blaine's left hand. He can tell it's started to regain some normal movement and definition with all the physical therapy Blaine's been doing. "I wouldn't count on them telling me anything, but I also have Therese's number to call. She'll probably tell me stuff."
Blaine raises his eyebrows, the questions so obvious they're practically embossed on his forehead, but Sebastian shakes his head. He doesn't want to explain right now. He's not even sure he'll ever want to explain either.
"I need to get some fresh air. I'll tell an orderly you're here?"
Blaine sighs and lets his fingers twist with Sebastian's, as if he's unwilling to let Sebastian go further than a foot away. "I wish I could go on the walk with you."
Sebastian hopes his face looks suitably disappointed enough that Blaine can't. He knows one day – maybe during the summer – he'll go on lots of walks with Blaine and they'll enjoy the sunshine together. "I just need some alone time because people at Dalton will probably be all over me. You know Hunter will bug the hell out of me."
Blaine smiles slightly and gives his hand another squeeze. "True. Just take care of yourself, okay?"
"I'll do my best," he says, knowing he's lying again and again, coating his tongue and filling his throat with the lies that will make him sick. He brushes a kiss to Blaine's temple and grabs his bag from the floor. He has to repeatedly tell himself not to turn around when he can feel Blaine's eyes on him.
He tells the first orderly he sees about Blaine, who promises to arrange a wheelchair immediately. He rides the elevator to ground level and checks his phone again, speeding up his steps when he notices the time. He passes a few nurses and a doctor who he's pretty sure must know what's going on from the sympathetic looks on their faces. Knowing there's definitely some sort of network here hoping to protect him from his parents makes him more paranoid than usual, because now he's unsure about who knows and what they know and who is supportive of him and who isn't.
He steps outside to see the sun fading behind the horizon. It's like the whole day has disappeared in the anxious wait for answers. The timing suits him well though, cloaking him in darkness and secrecy as he turns to his left and starts walking around the hospital, past the closed café and the empty day care and the half-filled parking lot until he's almost at the edge of the hospital grounds where it runs off into the grove of trees he'd glimpsed from Blaine's room several months ago. The trees have started to come alive again, thickening with green blooms, and act perfectly as a cover.
Hidden just past the first row of trees is Terry.
"You look like shit," Terry comments with a wry grin, pulling him in for a hug that is unexpected but also oddly welcome. Terry doesn't need to know what's going on but it's nice that his friend recognises his need for support.
He grimaces at the comment on his appearance and hugs Terry back, trying not to be too clingy with someone that usually looks down on him like the teenage boy that he is. "Hospitals aren't for the healthy, man," he muses and Terry draws away, eyeing him warily.
"Not for you, I hope?"
"Nah. Family stuff." He shrugs, trying to play it off. He doesn't want to think about how close his sister's possible death had come to ruining him completely, how many hours he cried and panicked waiting for news. "You work fast."
"I always have some supplies kicking around," Terry says, his gaze still scrutinising Sebastian and making him feel uncomfortable. His expression reminds him of Hunter trying to see past all his defensive layers when Sebastian doesn't want to be examined. "Your uniform is weird, bro."
He laughs, even though he doesn't want to, and Terry grins. Maybe Terry had just been considering his ridiculous outfit. "I miss my own clothes."
"Yeah. The blazer? Totally not befitting someone who hangs out in the park with us," Terry teases before he drops to the backpack by his feet and withdraws the brown bag with two clinking bottles inside.
He sees it as his salvation, his chance to forget everything tonight if he can just get Hunter the hell out of their room. He reaches for his bag, passes a twenty from his wallet, and then starts shifting textbooks and exercise books and his pencil case around so he can squeeze them inside. There's no way Hunter wouldn't be immediately suspicious of why he's carrying a brown paper bag with glass inside it if he saw it. He has to sneak it inside.
Terry folds the note into his own wallet before withdrawing a joint. "You want a couple of hits? Take the edge off before you go back?"
Sebastian's gaze lingers on it, wondering how badly he'd smell and how much Hunter would pick up on it. He'd love to feel the tingles in the tips of his fingers, the floating carelessness as the high sets in, but he's pretty sure any scent that lingers on his uniform would spell big fucking trouble with James. He can't afford to lose weekend privileges so carelessly.
"I'd fucking love to, but if I get busted…" He sighs and zips up his bag, concealing the only options he has right now. His bag is far heavier than it had been but it's still a lighter burden than the one he'd been carrying all day. "My ass would be toast, T."
"Fair call." Terry slips the joint into his wallet and tucks it into the back pocket of his jeans. "You going to be alright?"
He wonders what it is about his expression that gives so much away. Maybe his eyes are swollen and red. Maybe his cheeks still have traces of tears. Maybe his lips look bitten raw. Maybe his skin looks as drained as he feels.
"I'll be fine," he assures, offering a fist bump to Terry who returns it before they split up and walk in opposite directions.
Hunter isn't waiting for him by the entrance which is perfect for Sebastian to organise a cab and settle in first. He's pretty sure he hears the faint clink of the bottles as he eases inside and knows he'll have to be very careful when they return to school so his roommate doesn't suspect anything.
"I got lost," Hunter explains when he finally folds himself into the car five minutes after he was meant to. He's huffing faintly and Sebastian wonders where he'd been running from. He knows Hunter isn't that unfit to get puffed easily. "That place is insanely confusing."
Sebastian's not sure he's ever gotten lost inside but he supposes that after he'd pretty much grown up within its sterile white walls, it would be a concern if he did. A concern of the Alzheimer's variety, probably. "Congratulations on making it out alive," he jokes and Hunter shoots him a mock glare.
The driver this time expects payment so Hunter hands over his card after a short protest from Sebastian. He's glad for it, mostly because he doesn't have enough cash after paying Terry and not knowing how much he has in his bank account – his parents might have emptied it for all he knew. IT doesn't lessen the feeling that he's accepting some level of charity though. He doesn't like it.
He moves his bag carefully as they exit the car, falling into step beside Hunter on the walk to their room.
"Do you think you could give me some space tonight?" Sebastian asks, crossing his fingers inside the pockets of his blazers. "It's just…been such a long day that I really need some time to myself to unwind."
He knows Hunter is looking at him and tries to focus on keeping his eyes ahead of him or on the floor, not wanting anything in his expression to betray his actual intentions. "Your twenty minute walk around the hospital wasn't enough?"
"I'll knock you out cold if you'd rather be there," Sebastian says, knowing he'd be totally prepared to tie Hunter down and stuff his mouth with dirty socks to keep him silent but hoping it won't come to that. "Please?"
"You're not going to do anything stupid like rip the room apart and trash it, are you?" Hunter says as they ascend a flight of stairs towards the dorms. "I've got some valuable stuff in there."
He snorts and shakes his head, knowing that's the last thing he plans on doing. If he doesn't have to leave his bed for the next week, he'll be content. "I'm used to having my own space so I can breathe after stuff like this has happened in the past, Hunter," he says, glancing around to ensure no one else is within hearing range. It's not like this is the first time Lillian's had a major health scare, but he doesn't really feel like filling in the past four years. "I don't need to be watched like a fucking lab experiment all night. I'm not going to explode."
Hunter is still watching him. It's confirmed when his roommate nearly trips up the stairs and barely manages to catch himself on the railing in time. "Fine," Hunter concedes with a tilt of his head once they resume walking, attempting to act as if he hadn't just yelped in an embarrassingly high pitch that had made Sebastian smirk. "I'll go to Wes' so you'll know where I am."
The tension in his chest that maybe Hunter wouldn't acquiesce to his request unknots and they lapse into silence as they approach their room. Hunter unlocks it, deposits his bag on the floor, and starts gathering a handful of books he'll apparently need for a night with Montgomery.
Sebastian stays cautiously silent, not wanting to open his mouth and say anything that might make Hunter suspicious of him. Lying to Blaine had been bad enough, and Blaine won't be anywhere near him to fuss. He doesn't need Hunter starting to doubt his need for space and breaking down the door later.
"So what are you planning on doing with all your free time?" Hunter asks casually, folding a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt into a gym bag.
Well fuck.
He shrugs and loosens his tie and shoelaces, realising that his anxiety to ensure Hunter left the room means he hasn't properly begun shedding clothes yet, and his roommate knows how much he hates being in the uniform. He supposes that his distraction could easily be attributed to the stress of the day though.
He thinks quickly about possible plans and how he can explain any reasons for why he won't hear someone knocking at the door if Hunter does drop by. "Probably listen to music or watch a movie and have an early night," he says, removing his blazer from his shoulders and draping it over his desk chair. "Take some time to process everything." At least that part isn't a lie.
"I'll be just down the hall if you need anything," Hunter says, zipping up his bag and hauling it over his shoulders. Sebastian feels like saying he only needs a night and Hunter doesn't have to take half his bookshelf but maybe Hunter's way of dealing with the day was immersing himself in his studies.
"I'll be fine. Thanks though," he says with a tired smile that Hunter returns before he departs the room.
And finally, finally, Sebastian has some space to breathe.
He takes the time to hide one of the bottles in the bottom of his desk drawer and then organises a change of clothes for after his shower. He deliberates on what to do with the second bottle before finally deciding to take it into the bathroom with him. He sips from it as he waits for the water to heat up, and intermittently sips when the water isn't doing enough to wash away the painful dregs of the day. He swallows some more while drying off and then while redressing. Before leaving the bathroom, he pauses and scopes out the room to ensure Hunter hasn't returned while he's been in the shower. Then he crawls into bed with the bottle to keep drinking until everything is fuzzy around the edges and the pain around his heart no longer burns. Or, at least, his stomach burns with the alcohol instead.
He manages a few more mouthfuls before the dizziness sets in and it's at that point that he feebly gets out of bed, hides the bottle in a different drawer of his desk from the first, and flops onto the mattress. He has no intention of watching a movie or listening to music but instead every intention of allowing the numbness of the alcohol to set in. He can only hope that he'll be whisked off to a sleep infused with enough brandy that he doesn't have any dreams of Lillian's ghostly, frail form dying in his arms.
~TBC~