Means to an End

This is definitely my longest one-shot so far and will continue to be so for the foreseeable future. It is also the darkest and isn't happy in the slightest. It isn't gory or violent but deals with how one would cope when diagnosed with a life-shattering illness.

I'm focusing on a different brother again, and this is the first time I've written Ziggy, which I found difficult at certain points. Unlike the other Roscoe's we have only seen Ziggy on a very shallow level on the show, normally when he's flirting with a girl, or talking about a girl. Or anything to do with a girl really.

As a viewer, we know very little about him, though I do believe there is more than meets the eye with him, he's just a bit naïve and innocent still, enjoying life for what it is. This story though, isn't about enjoying life for what it is, so Ziggy for obvious reasons is different how he seems in the show. I hope his reactions to his diagnosis and illness are realistic and I hope that you all enjoy this chapter.

It started off slowly at first. He would wake up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, gasping for breath. Ziggy had shrugged it off when it began, the winter had been a harsh one so far (and it was only early November) and as such Freddie had taken to leaving the heater in their joint bedroom on all night. Pair that with the radiator (which was also on for the whole night) and their bedroom could easily be mistaken for a sauna. No wonder he was waking up, practically dripping with sweat.

But when the extra heater broke, with the weather only got colder and he was still waking up at 2 in the morning everyday, dripping with sweat, Ziggy couldn't help the niggling feeling at the back of his head. He pushed it away though, things were finally going right for the family and he wasn't going to ruin it by being paranoid. Even if this was how it had started Dad. Memories of seeing him in the kitchen when he would go to get a glass of water, practically climbing into the fridge to keep cool, flashing in his mind at random intervals, though he did his best to push it back.

He's still trying to kid himself when he gets wasted after just two cans of lager and ends up spending the next day in bed due to a raging hangover. Everyone laughed at him, told him it was his own fault for drinking too much. He didn't have the heart to tell them that he drank less than anyone in the club, even the designated drivers. It was because he hadn't eaten that day, that's all, he tells himself. Nothing to worry about.

The constant exhaustion and weight loss are the final straw though. He's twenty four years old for god's sake, he shouldn't be tired after fourteen solid hours of sleep and he definitely shouldn't be losing seven pounds in the space of a week.

He made an appointment with a local doctor (not Lindsey or Browning though), but he doesn't tell anyone. The whole family went through hell and back when Dad was diagnosed right till the day he... He's not going to scare them, it isn't fair, especially if it turns out to be a false alarm. If it does turn out to be real, well he'll cross that bridge when he gets to it.

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Ziggy gets to the hospital minutes before his appointment. It had been difficult getting away that morning though, both Joe and Freddie had kept asking him questions. Where was he going? Why had he taken the day off when they were fully booked at the garage?

He'd managed to fob them off with a lame-ass excuse, not that he could remember when he said to them, but it had worked and that was all that mattered. As he waited for his name to be called out, he can't help but feel nervous.

This day could go one of two ways for him. The first (and much more preferable) way would be if the doctor told him it was a false alarm. Nothing to worry about. Then he could go on his merry way and no-one would be any the wiser.

The second option would have consequences for everyone. Who knows what would happen to him, but he really wasn't concerned about himself. No, the main worry was, what would it do to his family. They'd already suffered so much, watching as their own dad went through the same thing, slowly fading away till he was a shell of the man he used to be, finally passing away in the hospital, attached to dozens of wires.

Ziggy had barely recognised him in his last few weeks.

The appointment as a whole is a bit hazy. He can't remember the finer details, no matter how hard he thinks about it. He told the doctor about his symptoms, told him how people in his family had suffered from cancer, but he can't remember the doctor's responses. Can't remember what he said, or what he wrote down.

He knows that tests were taken. A blood sample and a simple biopsy. Nothing major, and nothing that took him a lot of time to recover, meaning he would seem nice and normal for his family that night.

After that, it was a waiting game. Every-time his phone went off, Ziggy would jump out of his skin. His family had noticed too, they all thought it was a girl though. Teased him mercilessly about it.

Must be someone special if she's got you acting like that they said, not noticing the way he would freeze, the painted on smile and forced laughter.

Not even a week passes before the doctor calls with the results, but it felt like so much longer. He got the afternoon off with ease and made his way back to the hospital. Before the doctor has even opened his mouth, Ziggy knows it's bad. He knows he's ill now, a sick feeling of dread washing over him.
But then the doctor began speaking and it was so much worse than even he had imagined.

Hodgkin lymphoma.
Could die in months if left untreated.
Chemotherapy
Radiation Therapy
Stem Cell Transplantation

The words echo in his head, going round and round. The rest of the appointment goes by in a blur, though he remembers going for the MRI and PET scan startlingly well. The doctor informed him that the results would take 24 hours to go through, but then he would know how far the cancer had spread and what treatment he would need.

He doesn't remember driving back to the house, doesn't remember setting the table, but suddenly he's sat around it, mechanically chewing at mum's lasagne, the rest of the family laughing and joking around him.

"You okay Zig? You're awfully quiet." Sandy said, shooting him a concerned look.

"I'm fine," he replied, trying to stop his voice from shaking. Because what else is he meant to say? He's not fine though, he wants to cry, to scream at the unfairness of it all but he can't. Not yet, it still hasn't sunk in. Even though he had been expecting something similar to happen, he hadn't prepared for it. How can one prepare for news like this anyway. Short answer, they can't.

All he wants to do is crawl into bed and ignore the problem, but he can't. That won't fix anything. He needs to tell them, his family that is. He can't keep this to himself, and they'd notice when he starts chemo, the hair loss would be a pretty good clue. But it's how he's going to break the news that is the difficult part, the family as a whole had suffered way too much and he hated being the one to bring more bad news. He needed to do it though, they needed to wrap their heads around it, they deserved to know.

Mind made up, he waits at the table till everyone has finished. As the others begin piling out of the room, he clears his throat, catching their attention.

"I need to tell you all something," he begin, voice catching slightly. "Can we go to the living room?" They all nod, a look of worry and concern gracing their faces as they all grab a seat and wait.

"I went to the doctor's last week," he said, choking out the words. "I've uhh, I've been losing weight without trying, I've a really sore cough and I'm tired all the time." Sandy had paled slightly, she was familiar with the symptoms, but Ziggy couldn't keep his eyes on her. Couldn't see the realisation hit or the disappointment flood through her.

"The doctor took some tests and they came back today. I've been diagnosed with Hodgkin lymphoma." Silence fills the room as the news hits them. No-one asks what it is, they all know. All watched someone they loved grow weaker and weaker as the disease ravaged through him, slowly destroying him until he could no longer hold on.

"How advanced is it?" Sandy asked, her voice hitching as tears streamed down her face. Ziggy made his way to her, kneeling by her side and hugging her tightly. She's trying to be strong, he can see it, but it's difficult. She's trying to stop the tears, be strong and hopeful for the family, but they all know she'll lock herself in her room later on, sobbing for the remainder of the night.

"They don't know yet. I got an MRI and a PET scan done today, so I should get the results tomorrow."

"We'll go with you," Freddie said, like mum he was trying to stay strong, but Ziggy could see through it straight away.

He only nodded, there was no point arguing with them. It wasn't worth it, they had to be there, to witness it. It would make it easier to accept, make it seem real for them. Who was he to deny them of that.

The rest of the night is a sombre event. Everyone cries, some more than others. Sandy, Joe and Freddie let a few tears escape but manage to keep control of their emotions. He understand it, for so long all three of them have had to keep the family going, they had to be the strong ones whilst himself, Jason and Robbie were still kids. They remember Dad's passing much more clearly too, the twins were too young to understand what was really happening, they didn't understand why their Daddy was losing all his hair and was too tired to play football with them and Ziggy wasn't much better.

He was told the basics of it but not much more, Joe and Freddie though. Sandy told them more, and what she didn't they found on the internet. It had aged both of them and once their dad was gone they split the fatherly role between them.

It made sense that they felt the need to be strong, neither of them had dropped the parent role that had been thrust upon them at such a young age, but Ziggy knew they'd let their defences down when they were alone.

That night, after everyone was too exhausted to stay up, he made sure to loiter in the bathroom for a while to give Freddie his much needed privacy. And if he finally lets some tears shed, well who's to know?

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The next day finds the entirety of the family sat in the waiting room. It's a Saturday so Robbie and Jason don't have school and the garage was left shut due to the circumstances. When Ziggy's name is called, he enters the doctor's room slowly. His heart is thumping loudly and he thinks he's going to be sick.

The doctor gives him the results straight away and then spends the next five minutes talking about treatments and what the best thing to do would be. The words merge and he can't take it in. Its worse than he thought it would be and all he can focus on the is the slip of paper in front of him, the results of the scan jumping out at him. He's on autopilot, asks relevant questions, signs the corrects forms, he even manages to shake the doctor's hand and give him a smile when he leaves the office.

"So, what did he say?" Joe asked, as Ziggy sat down in the seat next to him. He notices that his hands are shaking, as he looks down at the results in front of him.

"It's at stage two, urm which means that it's spread some parts of my tissue and a lymph node."

"Stage two isn't that advanced though?" Jason says, though it feels like a question, making sure he hasn't got his facts mixed up. "That should be treated pretty easily."

Ziggy nodded, managing a smile for his family. "I'm starting chemotherapy next week, it should get rid of it."

No-one comments on the fact that it may not help at all. Bar Lindsey, they've all been in the situation before (and she's dealt with hundreds of patients going through the same thing), they know that hope is the best way to go about it. Because if you haven't got hope, what have you got?

It doesn't make him any less terrified.

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The first chemo session is awful. It's a few days after he got his MRI and PET results back and Ziggy is pleasantly surprised by how quickly it was sorted. He'd only allowed Joe to go with him, and that was because he knew he would need a lift to and from the hospital and even then he was under strict instruction to go to work straight after. The others had all protested, not wanting to leave him at his time of need but he knew it was for the best and told them so.

His first session fell onto a weekday and they all had work. The twins couldn't miss school, their exams were way too important and he wasn't going to have them failing on his conscience. Sandy's and Lindsey's jobs were far too important and they couldn't take the day off whenever he felt like it, they did bring in the majority of the money for the family after all.

Freddie had been the most difficult to convince though, and they'd argued long and hard the night before. He was finally worn down when Ziggy pointed out they had a half of a dozen cars to work on, and if they weren't ready in time, the garage would lose much needed business. He hadn't been happy.

It was with a sense of dread that he walked into the hospital that day. He knew the chemo would hurt and generally wreak havoc on his body. He'd seen first-hand what it had done to his dad. Whilst the chemo attacked the cancer cells and got rid of them, it also went for the normal cells, meaning there were many horrible side effects.

He would become ill, he knew that. All the research he had done on the treatment told him the same thing. He would easily get infections, lose his hair and would feel even weaker than he was at present. But the doctor had informed him it was the best option to take, though it wasn't going to be pretty.

When the situation had sunk in, he had done further research into the disease and the chemotherapy, the information his mum gave him all those years ago simply not enough anymore.

He had found out that he had ticked many of the risk factor boxes. He was male, in the typical age group and was related to someone who had suffered from the same disease. It really wasn't a surprise he had contracted it.

He also knew that the survival rate was pretty high, especially in the earlier stages, and with that new piece of information his hope once again grew. But the survival rate was only high because people got treatment (I.e chemotherapy).

He'd had to shake his fear of the treatment once and for all (his dad had become almost unrecognisable with his skeletal body and pale face even now it haunted his dreams) and had spent the week preparing himself.

Even with all the preparation and research he conducted it isn't enough. The pain is shocking and he spent the two days after the treatment in the bathroom, throwing up every few hours. It finally dies down, and three days later he begins to feel more like himself, though he's still slightly shaky.

When he feels like he can stand, he moves to the mirror, examining himself. There doesn't seem to be a lot of change, his face is pale and he has massive bags under his eyes, but he looks like he's just had the flu, not extensive treatment. His hair is okay too, though he spends almost ten minutes just running his hands through it, making sure it was all still there.

As he struggles with a bowl of tomato soup later that night, he really hopes it true what they say. That the first session is the worst of the lot, because he really can't deal with being that sick for that long so regularly. "How you feeling Zig?" Robbie asks, shooting a worried glance at him as he pushed the half full bowl away.

"Better," he admitted, though it probably doesn't do a lot. The whole family are trying to deal with his illness as best as they can but it isn't easy. They've already lost so much and Ziggy can't blame the way they're acting, he would do the same if he was in their situation.

"Well you're looking great," Lindsey said smiling. He knows it's crap, he looks awful but he smiles at his future sister in law. She sounds sincere at least and Ziggy knows that in context he probably looks ok.

"Watch out there Joe, seems like your missus has a thing for me," he chuckles, winking at Lindsey who only giggles.

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A month into his chemotherapy is when Ziggy's hair starts falling out. It happens quite suddenly, he goes to bed with all his hair on his head, but when he wakes up the next morning a large portion of it is on the pillow.

When Freddie wakes up, the first thing he sees is his younger brother sat cross legged on the bed, a clump of hair in his hand. He leaves the room quickly, fighting back the tears and returns with an electric razor in hand.

"I'm going to look fucking awful as a skin head," Ziggy jokes, though it's obvious he's trying not to cry himself. "You can do the honours." Freddie nods and plugs it in, mechanically moving the razor across his brother's head, trying not to wince as it falls away in clumps.

They clean the hair away quickly and when they make their way downstairs, Sandy almost starts crying there and then. Instead, she puts down the pan she was holding and hugs him tightly, whispering comforting nothings into his ear.

The chemo isn't getting any easier either. He's seems to be constantly running a fever, yet is always freezing cold. Gone are the days of wearing nothing but a t-shirt and shorts, despite it being one of the warmest springs, he's constantly shivering and has taken to wearing at least three layers of clothing. Sometimes that's not even enough.

He's losing even more weight now, and he's had to tighten his belt by two holes otherwise his trousers would constantly be around his ankles. The pain is the worst though, before he would just be itchy and tired, but now there's a constant ache throughout his whole body that's always present even when he's sleeping, which he does a lot of. Some nights he falls asleep on the sofa just after dinner, not even having the strength to make it up the stairs.

His family pretty much leave him to it, thank God. They don't push him to eat more, though Ziggy can tell it's taking all of his mum's self restraint to not put more food on his plate. He'd only throw it back up again. Instead she throws herself back into her job, signing up to work more and more shifts, only staying at home to eat and sleep.

They've all seen it before, when Dad was ill she did exactly the same thing. She was only home when she needed to be, and even signed up for the hated night shifts. They know why she does it, she has to keep her mind off of it. If she ignores it for long enough it may go away, and if not at least she doesn't have to see her son slowly dying.

He has good days every now and again (though they are becoming rare occurrences as the treatment carries on) where he's strong enough to leave the house and help out at the garage. He's only allowed to work on the desk though, and Ziggy never thought he'd see the day where he actually yearned to work on a car, he wouldn't even mind getting his favourite shirt dirty, but it's impossible. Even on his best days, he's not strong enough to do manual labour.

What scares him (and the rest of the family) is how different he's reacting to the treatment compared to his dad. At first his dad had been fine, he had seemed to be healthy soon after each treatment and was able to do as he pleased.

It took ages for the cancer to get really bad, but even then, Dad was sick for ages. This hasn't happened for him and at least one part has accepted that. He's kind of grateful even, grateful it won't be dragged out for years. At least he'll die quickly.

Three months after his first chemo session (and with two weeks to go till his final one), every part of him has accepted it. The whole thing is hurting his family more than it's hurting him, they all still have hope, believe he can get better, and the hope is the worst thing. Because he not just sick anymore, he's dying.

And there's no getting away from that. He doesn't know how long he's got left, but he knows, deep down, that his days are numbered.

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"I'm so sorry David, but the chemotherapy has been ineffective." The news isn't shocking, not in the slightest. He'd prepared himself to hear that very thing when the final chemotherapy session had taken place and once again when more tests were taken to see if the cancer had been beaten.

But it still feels like a blow to the gut. No matter how often he had looked over the situation, had tried to be logical about the whole thing, there had always been one last glimmer of hope, telling him that he could be wrong and he was actually getting better.

At the doctor's words, that last bit of hope is effectively squished. Sandy is next to him (the only family member he allowed to join him, whilst the others were told to wait outside), her grip on his hand deathly tight.

"There must be something we can do," she says, her eyes flashing with unshed tears. "That can't be it."

"We could go for another round of chemotherapy, at the very least it would prolong David's life for a few more months and could beat the cancer into submission though nothing would be definite. It would also put you through unnecessary pain. The cancer is far too advanced for Radiation Therapy or Stem Cell Transplantation to have any real effect as well."

His mum's grip on his hand only tightens and it takes all of Ziggy's self restraint to not protest. He won't though, his mum isn't meaning to hurt him and it's probably keeping her from trashing the doctor's office. He'll have a hell of a bruise there later though.

"There are of course experimental trials that I can sign you up to-"

"No," Ziggy says, speaking up for the first time since he got his results back. "I don't want trial treatment, if anything it'll be worse." His mum's looking at him like he's finally snapped and looks ready to say so, but the doctor looks somewhat understanding. He's probably seen hundreds of people who are going through the same thing as he is, probably heard the same thing. He knows when someone's accepted that nothing can be done.

"How long would I have if we stopped all treatment?" He asks, trying to stop his voice from wobbling.

"Months," The doctor replies, and Ziggy sees Sandy biting her lip to stop from crying out. "Between six and eight depending on how long it takes for the cancer to spread through your body."

Ziggy nods in reply, trying to keep a calm head when he's just been told he'll be dead in a year. Looking up, he meets the doctor's eye, completely avoiding looking over at his mum who has gone as pale as a sheet at the news.
"I'm going to stop all treatment," he finally says. "I want these last few months for me, I want to be with my family, at my home, not stuck in a hospital too weak to do anything."

Sandy tries to persuade him to rethink his option, tells him that he's still got his whole life ahead of him, he should at least consider it. The doctor throws in good points every now and again, but he can already see that Ziggy's made his mind up, only amplified by the fact that he easily shoots down every single one of his mum's arguments.

"I don't want to be like dad," he tells her, turning fully to look at her, so she can see the pure sincerity in his eyes. "He was ill for years and in so much pain for so long. I can't do that mum, I just can't. It's bad enough that it'll be for months, but at least it gives me time to say my good-byes. It's time I need, but I don't think I could cope with much more."

Sandy finally drops it, tears pouring down her face as she hugs him tightly. The doctor gives them time to cool down, telling them to give him a call if they need any help before they make their way out of the office.

The others know it isn't good with one look at the pair, though it only gets worse when Ziggy tells them that he's stopping all treatment. There's a lot of tears, a lot of shouting and arguing between the family, but eventually they're all worn down. They all know why Ziggy's doing what he's doing, they all saw their dad slowly wilt away from years of suffering, and they'd all do the same as he was if in the situation. It doesn't make it any easier to accept though.

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The next week is probably one of the worst in Ziggy's life. There's a lot of tears, anger and arguments from everyone and most of it (scratch that, all of it) is directed at him. Everytime he goes to bed (which is a lot), or whenever he wakes from a nap, nine times out of ten he'll turn to see Freddie staring at him, always with the same look in his eyes.

How could you?

He never voices the question, though there's no need, they both know what he's thinking. Know that he's scared, and maybe a little disgusted by how quickly Ziggy made the decision to stop all treatment, to let himself die with no argument.

Robbie's ended up getting even more volatile than before and it physically pains Ziggy to see his little brother react in the way he was. At least once a day he starts an argument at home (and Ziggy knows for a fact it's way more at school). It'll be about anything, not changing the channel over when he asked, not turning the hot water on for the shower or leaving the bedroom window open when he told Jason not to, but it always leads to the same thing.

Why are you leaving us?

He starts screaming and shouting at him, demanding answers to impossible questions. Most of the time, Jason is there to try and calm him down. Sometimes it works, he manages to grab Robbie and drag him out of the room, other times it doesn't.

Those are the times when Jason himself cracks, starting off trying to stop Robbie, but then ending up next to him, asking the same questions. People often see the twins as two opposites, but when they're on the same side in an argument they're a force to be reckoned with by sheer will power and force alone.

Joe isn't much better mind, though he has more maturity and wisdom than the twins do and knows when to bite his tongue. It doesn't mean that Ziggy can't see the questions burning in his eyes, that is when Joe makes eye contact with him. Since learning that he was dying, Joe had spent as little time as he could with the family, preferring to hole himself up in his room, only Lindsey allowed to come and go as she pleased.

Anyone else that tried to enter the room and talk to Joe instantly regretted it, simply due to the fact that he snapped if they even dared to breath too loudly.

Lindsey wasn't faring much better, though she seemed to understand Ziggy's reasoning more than the others did. He wasn't sure if that was because she was a doctor or because she wasn't family and so it was easier for her to step back and look at the situation rationally. He didn't really care though, it helped to know that at least someone understood him and his choices.

Despite not being blood related, Lindsey felt just as much part of the family as all the others. Ziggy truly saw her as a sister and was devastated that he would never get to see Joe's and Lindsey's children or get to see them on their wedding day.

The worst thing however, was seeing his mum react to the news. If he had thought that she hadn't been spending a lot of time at home when he was first diagnosed, it was nothing compared to this. She only came home for a few hours to sleep, preferring to spend her time at the hospital or in the garage working on the finances. Short story, she was running herself ragged.

She wasn't letting herself come to terms to the news and it broke Ziggy's heart to see his mum hurting in the way she was.

It was devastating to see all of his family hurting. He knew he needed to do something, to provide them all with closure as the months passed. They needed to accept that he wouldn't be here for much longer, and none of them would do it if he didn't have a helping hand.

But he wanted something for them to hold onto, something they could look at difficult times, to hopefully help them with whatever they're struggling with.

He begins to plan, working on what he can say to each family member to make them feel a little bit better. It was a long process, this would be his goodbye to them after all, he needed them to all be perfect, even the order in which he went. But he wasn't ready quite yet, he still had time to say his goodbyes, and this wasn't it. He had more time to work on them.

The first month after the final chemo session is good to Ziggy, appearance wise anyway. Some of the weight he lost during the treatments has been regained and his hair is finally starting to grow back again.

He no longer looks like a walking corpse and it gives everyone the hope that he may live longer than the doctor had predicated. It's false hope though, everyone knows he has an expiry date but the hope and belief does help, make the days seem a little brighter.

There's no hope for Ziggy, he can feel himself getting weaker with every passing day, can feel himself fading. He's been predicated six to eight months left, but he'll be surprised if he makes it five at the rate he's going. He's definitely never going to see another Christmas anyway.

He has to step down from the garage too, which is probably one of the more heartbreaking things he's had to deal with since his diagnosis. But he's too weak and even answering the phone and sorting out appointments was becoming too much for him. It was difficult walking away on the final day, he'd put so much time and effort into the place, making sure the business stayed strong after the move, and to have to leave with a whimper and not a bang was heart-wrenching.

The doctor's downgrade his time again, saying he should make it through September at least. Three months, that's all he's got left. The cancer's aggressive, oddly so, they say. Ziggy knows this already, he's the one experiencing it, feeling it weaken his joints and give him terrible coughs.

He's just annoyed because he has a month and a half less than he was promised and that sucks. He knows it's time though, he needs to start working on his goodbyes. He can't afford to wait any longer, and his family deserve that closure.

He's not giving into the illness, he knows that, but he is accepting his fate. He wants to leave gracefully not kicking and screaming, and damn it, he will die with some dignity left intact.

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As the months pass, he begins planning. He makes arrangements for his upcoming funeral, gets his will in order, cleans all the crap out of his room, anything and everything he can do that will make his death that bit easier for his family.

He can't do a lot anymore, he's too weak for a lot of things, but he can do this final thing, he can lessen the pain, even if it's just a little bit.

He begins writing up his good-byes too. Some may call him a coward, by not saying his goodbyes in person, but he would prefer this. The whole family are a talkative, argumentative lot and the chance of them interrupting him as he goes is more than likely.

With the letters, than at least they will always have a bit of him with them, maybe even look at them in times of need. If he can continue helping them out in the future, once he's long gone, then his life will have been more than worth it.

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As the third week of September begins, Ziggy knows the end is near. He can feel it, through the pure aching of his bones. He knows he won't make it the end of the month and he knows he has to make this time count more than anything. His family need the good memories, need to remember the good times and that won't happen if he spends his last days holed up in his room.

He gets up when the others all do, managing to eat some breakfast, something he hasn't been able to stomach in months. It eases the tension around the table, reminds the others of happier times, when Ziggy wasn't dying, and that's what he wants. He needs them to remember him like this.

Once the others have all left for work, he normally makes his way back to bed, content to rest whilst the others are away. If someone is home, he'll normally go to the lounge with them, watching a movie as he wrapped himself around whoever was home.

They'd normally talk, about anything and everything. He tells Joe about all his plans for the funeral and showed him what he wanted to happen. He laughs with Robbie and Jason, looking back onto the Christmas of '06 when he tripped and fell into the trifle. He plays fifa against Freddie and Lindsey, and although he knows that they let him beat them, he takes pride in the win. He eats whatever his mum cooks up in the kitchen with no complaint, managing to clean the plate each time as they talk about Dad.

It's the best week he's had in a long time, the same for all the family and he's glad he gets to see them happy one last time. When he wakes up, with only four days left of the month to go, he knows that this is it. He won't be there for the next morning, and as he gets changed, he grabs the letters that he's been hiding in the bottom of the wardrobe and places them on the top of his bed.

This day has to count more than any other, and he's just glad it's a weekend, meaning that everyone will be there with him. Sandy's made a fry-up for breakfast and he eats more than he has in weeks, earning a smile from everyone. After breakfast the whole family piles into the living room and put a movie on. Not that anyone pays it any mind, instead they spend their time talking and laughing. Reminiscing over good times and planning Lindsey and Joe's upcoming wedding. No-one talks about how Ziggy won't be there to see it.

He still has so much to say, but no enough time to say it all, he probably would never have enough time though, he never shuts up. He's just glad he's been able to write his letters, say goodbye then. He's glad he's had time to prepare, to make sure his family will be okay without him and he thinks they will be.

Just as mid-afternoon rolls round, is when Ziggy stops fighting the tiredness. He's been exhausted for so long, but he knows that when he goes to sleep that will be it. There will be no more, but the room has finally fallen into a comfortable silence and he's ready. He isn't scared anymore, it's something that needs to happen.

"I love you guys," he murmurs softly, getting comfortable from where he's lying on the sofa. His head is pillowed in his mum's lap and she's playing with his hair gently, whilst his legs are on top of Freddie's. The others are all in various other parts of the room, but they're all comfy, all laid back. It's the perfect final day.

Finally he lets himself fall into sleep, the sound of his family lightly laughing being the last thing he hears as the darkness takes over.

The others all continue talking lightly, trying not to wake Ziggy, though not even half an hour after he fell asleep, Sandy stiffened, watching her son's chest intently. When it stay perfectly still, she lets out a broken sob, trying to find his pulse desperately. Her fear alerts the rest of the family and they all stiffen as they watch her. She shakes her head minutely, letting them know that he's gone and everyone breaks down as one. He's looks peaceful, a small smile on his face, permanently placed there and all the pain had been washed away. That doesn't stop the heartbreak that travels through the whole family and they all clutch to one another as the loss finally hits them.

}}}}}}}}}}}

The rest of the day had been a long one and although he's long since exhausted, it's only at 1am that Freddie calls it a night. He makes it into his room, the steady flow of tears that had been there since the afternoon only increasing when he laid eyes of Ziggy's side of the room. His bed is made, but the clothes from the previous day were still strewn on the floor. His bedside table is still as cluttered as always, he doesn't know why he's so surprised by that fact.

He makes his way over to the bed, taking in the aftershave that only Ziggy used, a whole flood of new memories of his brother making their way into his mind. Through his blurred vision he sees it, a small stack of envelopes placed on Ziggy's pillow. He picks them up, reading through each name, he knows what they are before he's even gone through them all and he races out of the room.

He knocks on all the bedroom doors, calling for everyone to come down to the living room where the twins are still sat, curled up on one of the sofas. They look up, the confusion on everyone's face.

"Ziggy left us letters," Freddie explained, waving the envelopes in the air. The change in everyone is instant and they're all soon wide awake. Freddie gives each letter to their respective owner and as one, they all tear open the envelopes, silently reading.

Lindsey

Make sure to look after Joe for me. He'll protest and say he's a big boy when you try but stick at it yeah? When Dad died he went completely off the rails, you saw that when you first met him, but you were the one to bring him back. You brought the Joe that we had all known and loved back and for that I'm eternally grateful.

It probably means that you'll be the only one to keep him sane, it's going to be hard work but don't ever give up. He's got so much more to lose and I dread to think what will happen if he does lose it all.

You have been like a sister to me these last few years, and I can only hope you viewed me as family as well. You came in and brought life and laughter to us, promise you'll continue to do so now I'm gone.

I don't want you to cry too much at my passing, you have a brand new life to start with Joe, so don't even think about stopping it because of me. Though at least one of your children should be named after me, though they may not be able to deal with such high levels of awesomeness.

Love, Ziggy.

Jason

If I know you at all, as you're reading this you'll probably be thinking how unfair the whole thing is, and how you would do anything to swap. Well over the last few months, I've learnt that life is anything but fair, but you need to do your best to carry on, which is what I need you to do now.

I've been training you up as my little wingman for the past few years and now I'm gone it's time for you to take centre stage. You've got the Roscoe charm Jase, there's no denying it. Good genes that's what it is. But with Joe all loved up with Lindsey, Freddie doing what he can to get our dear sister in law out of his system and by that I mean he's fucking anyone in his vicinity with moody sex and don't get me started on Robbie. He's a real love'em and leave'em one with the romantic knowledge of a teaspoon.

That means it's all up to you, you charm them, wine and dine 'em and make them feel like they're the only out there for you. Don't fuck with their feelings, that was always my problem, I got in too deep too fast, but then bricked it when they started showing signs of real interest.

If it doesn't work out that's not your fault, but you're the best hope this family for a real jack the lad now I'm gone.

Good luck Jase, they'll sure as hell need it.

Love, Ziggy.

Robbie

I'm writing this letter to remind you to always be yourself, even if it does get difficult at times. I can't imagine it's easy having Jason as your twin, and although she doesn't mean to, mum puts a lot of pressure on you because of it. You've made a lot of mistakes and and I know you act out a lot because you think you have all this pressure to do well in school and to be well behaved but you don't.

Mum loves you because you're you, Robbie Roscoe, not because you're just like Jason. Don't take it out on him either, he doesn't have a malicious bone in his body and wouldn't ever try to make you look bad. He loves you mate and everything he does is done for you. I guess I'm just saying look out for him, don't let him get pushed around.

You're perfect just as you are, warts and all.

Love Ziggy

Freddie

I guess I've always been closest to you out of everyone, which is why I don't feel guilty telling you this (also, by the time you'll be reading this, I'll be dead so you won't be able to do a lot to me anyway), but please, get over Lindsey.

Don't worry, none of the others have noticed (except maybe Jason, but he's always been really good at that sort of stuff) but I have. I've seen the way you look at her, and I'm not saying you'll do anything, I guess this is just in case.

She and Joe are good together, and please don't do anything that will hurt them. You deserve someone who can really love you and I know she's somewhere out there. Hell, maybe you've already met her you sly dog!

Don't do anything stupid when I'm gone, and stay out of trouble big bro

Love Ziggy.

Joe

When Dad died, you did so much for me, and what I'm telling you here may do just a little to pay you back. Now I'm gone, I don't want you doing what you did when it was Dad. You were so angry for so many years because he left us, and although you hid it when you were with us, we could all still see it.

I don't want you being like that now, I want you to mourn me, I want you to cry but I don't want you to latch onto those feelings of anger and desperation like you have done previously. It's unhealthy and doesn't help anyone

You have Lindsey now and she deserves so much better. You two are getting married soon (and I'm so sorry for missing your wedding) and no doubt, one day you'll move out and start your own family.

She needs you more than anyone and please don't push her away. Talk to her about it, it doesn't make you weak, it shows that you trust and love her enough to open up to her.

Please don't do anything stupid.

Love Ziggy.

Mum

This letter is probably the hardest one to write. I have so much I want to say to you, but I don't know how to form the words, or enough paper to write it all down. I could have never asked for a better mum (you're cooking could have used some work though), you were always there when I needed you, always with the right words of advice.

I only want to ask you one final thing, please don't do what you did when dad died. It felt like I barely every saw you (and that may be the child in my grossly exaggerating everything but you get the picture). It felt like you were always at work or at Dad's grave and we all missed you so much.

Please, don't do that again, they'll all need you to keep them together and they'll want to do everything they can do to help you, just let them this time.

Love, Ziggy.

Everyone finished reading their letters around the same time, all holding back the sobs, though they were quickly released. They all clung to one another, sobbing for the loss of one of their own. As time passed, they began looking back on the happier memories, laughing at the more ridiculous ones. The letters were a lifeline for all of them, it was a permanent reminder of what Ziggy wanted for them, provided them with some much needed closure.
Maybe they would be okay after all.

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, even if it was a sad one.

There won't be any updates till mid-August because I go away on holiday tomorrow. This means that if anyone has any prompts, pm or review them quickly so I can write them all up when I'm away. I've got around four to do and it'll keep me busy.

Next story: Doctor, doctor – Jason gets ill– prompted by H20xSpelboundfanx (don't worry, it's a lot fluffier than this chapter)