Moments
This chapter has been requested by Rhea Sutton and a guest with the combined prompt of Robbie suffers from a seizure and is later diagnosed but what caused it?
Robbie Roscoe never got sick. It just never happened and was something he couldn't really ever explain, but growing up he never had a stuffy nose in the winter, and the only time he ever threw up was when he'd had a bit too much to drink.
The teen put it down to a good immune system, which was what made the current headache Robbie was suffering from even more unbearable. It had been painfully present all week, getting worse with each passing day, no matter how much Robbie begged for it dissipate.
He'd put it down to lack of sleep at first, after all it was summer and his sleeping pattern was more than a little out of wack, so Robbie had consciously gotten a few early nights, sleeping for 12 hours in one go for a couple of days, though it had little effect on the pounding in his head. But as more time passed, his sleeping started to come fitfully, and now he was spending many a night just staring at the ceiling, willing for the hours to pass, and with it the aching in his head.
He just wanted it gone, he just wanted the pain, the pounding in his skull to let off, though it was seeming more and more unlikely with each passing day.
"Rob? Rob are you alright?" It was only Jason's voice, his twin's concerned tone that had Robbie realise he'd stopped in the middle of the staircase, one hand gripping frantically at the bannister rail, whilst the other was pushing against his temple, fingers trying to do anything to get rid of the pain. The headache was only getting worse, and Robbie realised he couldn't remember the last time he'd slept through the night, or the last time he had been able to stomach a full meal because of just how bad he was now feeling.
"You're really scaring me Rob," Jason said, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder, eyes wide at the other boy's pale pallor and laboured breathing.
Robbie turned to look up at Jason, blinking as if that would get rid of the dizziness and help him understand his brother's questions. Because he could hear the words, he just couldn't make head or tail of them, it felt like he was underwater, that he was drowning and there was nothing he could do to feel any better.
"M'fine," Robbie muttered, grimacing as his vision started to darken, the pain like a constant pounding in his head, never letting up. His body was chilled all over, yet at the same time, Robbie was drenched in sweat. A metallic taste invaded his mouth and Robbie was faintly aware of his legs giving out underneath him whilst he was halfway up the stairs as he tried to catch his breath, and then there was nothing.
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A seizure, he'd had a seizure. That was what Robbie had been told as he came to in the hospital, the beeping of the monitors giving him an even bigger headache than before, whilst his family were outside, teary-eyed and desperate to hear some form of good news.
He just wanted to leave, just wanted to go home and sleep in his own bed. Instead he was stuck in a sterile room as numerous doctors and nurses bustled in and out, taking every type of sample known to man, normally as they asked question after question, the next ten times more intrusive than the last.
Robbie had tried to ask about leaving, about when he'd finally be set free and allowed to go on his life like normal but he never got a straight answer.
"Just need to do a few more tests."
"You're not at your best yet."
"Won't be long now."
He didn't know how long he had been trapped in the hospital room before his family were allowed to come into the room, it couldn't have been more than a few hours but to Robbie it felt like days. The looks on his brothers faces as they entered was enough to show Robbie that they all felt the same way he did and he couldn't help the pang of guilt that hit him as he realised just how much he was putting them through once more.
He almost started to crane his neck, to ask where Sandy was before he remembered. That she no longer lived in Hollyoaks, that she was all the way in London with Auntie Jean. In that moment, despite being surrounded by his family, Robbie hadn't felt more alone, he just wanted his mum. To smell her familiar and warm perfume, to hear her tell him that it would all be okay, because then it would be.
Instead all he heard was Rick's raised voice as he talked with one of the doctors outside, words like "MRI scan" and "CT" hitting Robbie's ears before the door shut tightly, effectively cutting off all outside sound. But it was too late, the damage was done and Robbie's broken head was left spinning at a hundred miles per hour.
Whatever had happened to him was serious then, these type of scans weren't just used for the sake of it. Which meant that Robbie was seriously ill, or at least, the doctors thought he could be. Falling further back against his pillows, the teen found himself wrapped up in his own thoughts, too scared about the future and what it may mean for him to even have the energy to pretend for his family that he was okay.
He'd been doing it for weeks now, hiding the blurry vision, the torturous headaches, the constant feeling of being sick away from everyone who asked how he was. But this, well it was just too much, and Robbie was done fighting.
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He wanted to be sick. And this time, for the first time, it wasn't because he had a tumour pressing down on his brain, effecting his every move and thought. No, this was because he was finding out he had a tumour in his brain, slowly eating away at him. Killing him. He had six months before he was gone. For good.
Because that's what it was doing. The doctor had told him that it was impossible to have surgery to remove the growth because of its position on his brain, that it would cause more harm than good. She'd told Rick there was medication that Robbie could take, that may shrink the tumour down, make it manageable, but the wiry woman had been unable to lie when Robbie had asked if that would stop the cancer in its tracks, if it would make him normal once more, without the constant head-aches and mood swings.
At his 'stage' the medication would only give him longer, because the tumour inside of him was deadly, and it was strong too, much stronger than the rest of Robbie's defences. If it had been found earlier, something might have been done to help him live, but Robbie had kept quiet, he hadn't said a word about the pain he was in, and because of that, his tumour had only grown. His goddamn silence had been the signing of his fucking death warrant.
So now he was only left with one option – death. He was eighteen years old, Robbie was in the prime of his life, he should be enjoying all there was to enjoy, hanging out with mates, getting with girls, drinking too much and throwing up in a gutter, but instead all he had to think about was his impending demise.
His family were all telling him, no begging him to start taking the medication, it would give him at least six more months but Robbie knew he had to stay strong, he couldn't back down. Because whilst he would have six more months on this earth, surrounded by loved ones, they would be the worst months possible. The doctor had told him it all, said he'd be too weak to even move off his bed, sometimes he wouldn't even be lucid, unaware of where he was and who with. And if that wasn't a top description of hell, Robbie had no idea of what was.
He didn't want to hurt his family anymore than he was already doing so, and with just one look at them he knew they all wanted nothing more than him to agree to do the treatment, but Robbie just... well he just couldn't.
If it wasn't going to make him better, how could it even be called medicine? All it was going to succeed in doing was adding on a few months more of misery, and if Robbie was already on the verge of a breakdown after knowing about his fate for just 40 minutes, the added months would just send him to the crazy house.
No, he wasn't going to accept the medication, it may seem crazy, but Robbie knew that deep down it was the right thing to do, the only way he'd be able to live with himself. So with a heavy heart, the teen allowed his family back into his hospital room, readying himself to explain just why he was going to let himself die sooner rather than not.
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Robbie couldn't say he was surprised when he opened the front door two days later to come face to face with a stricken Sandy, a small suitcase at her feet. In fact, he was more surprised it had taken her this long to come back to Chester.
"Oh baby," Sandy sniffed, blinking back the tears as she wrapped her second youngest in a tight hug, wishing she could do anything to help him with his pain. As they hugged in the doorway, Robbie felt himself finally relaxing somewhat, breathing in the familiar perfume that was just Sandy all over. He felt safe and more at ease than he had done in weeks, and though it was all purely psychological, it felt like he could beat the cancer now he had his mum back.
That wasn't possible of course, the tumour was already eating away at his brain, making him weaker day by day and if medicine couldn't fix it then the return of Sandy wouldn't do anything, but it didn't stop Robbie from dreaming. He could still have his dreams right?
But the presence of his mother didn't stop the headaches, the dizziness or any of the other lovely symptoms that the brain tumour presented, and Robbie knew that he was going to die and soon. But accepting that, well it was a whole other matter.
And Robbie knew his family were trying to make the process as easy as possible for him, were trying to stay strong for him, hiding the tears and late night sobs, but if anything it was only driving him even crazier.
He wanted to be treated like normal yes, but what they were doing was anything but. It was what found Robbie sneaking out on Friday night - and wasn't that something of a novelty, Sandy had never been fussed about him or Jason going out even when they were underage, how was it even logical that now when he was over 18 he had to crawl out of the window to go out for fun? - heading straight for the closest club.
He just wanted a few hours of being treated like a normal human being, surrounded by people who didn't know him or his story, didn't know he was a dead man walking, just another stranger in a faceless crowd. That was him.
And it worked too. As soon as he entered the club, hidden under the dark lighting, no one gave Robbie a second glance. His pale and sickly complexion was completely hidden and as long as he didn't move too quickly, Robbie could pretty much walk in a straight line. Though in a club full of drunken peers, who would even bat an eyelash?
Robbie could feel that tonight was going to be good, cancer or not he could still be normal, he'd prove to his family they didn't need to act any differently around him, he was fine and he was determined to show that.
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Beeping. Why did he always wake to the sound of beeping? And not the sound of a clock beeping, no this was definitely the sound you heard in only one place, a hospital. Cracking open an eye only confirmed Robbie's fears that yes, once more he was in a hospital. Maybe sneaking out wasn't his best idea.
"You don't say?" Sandy's dry tone shocked Robbie, making him realise that he'd spoken outloud, was his tumour messing with his brain to mouth filter now too? "What the hell were you thinking Robbie? You're sick, you can't just up and leave whenever you feel like it, especially to a nightclub of all places. You had a seizure but the doctors say it wasn't that bad, because you hadn't been drinking. But imagine if you had been-"
Robbie let Sandy continue, experience had told him that trying to answer back to the blonde nurse was sometimes a fatal move, and he was already gambling his life a bit too much nowadays as it was. Eventually the older woman ran out of steam, and exchanged her shouting for tears; Robbie didn't know which was worse.
For the hundredth time, Robbie felt sick with guilt as he saw just how much he was putting his family through, and although you could argue that the tumour wasn't really his fault, that you couldn't blame him for the terminal illness, the sneaking out, well that was all him.
He was going to go to hell in five months, that was a definite.
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"You better be making a speech," Robbie said as he watched Jason get torn apart by zombies for the sixth time in just under half an hour. They used to play the games together, but Robbie's reactions were only worsening and staring at the screen with absolute focus did nothing for his headaches.
"You what?" Jason asked, frowning in confusion as he finally turned away from the tv screen to face his brother.
"A speech. For my upcoming funeral, I mean it's not going to be that long now and I don't trust the others to say anything great, you're good with your words though and-"
"Why are you saying all this?" Jason found himself asking, chucking the ps4 controller to one side so he could fully focus on his twin's words.
"Am I not allowed to wonder what you're going to do for my own funeral? If I know it's coming I kind of want a little bit of control in it."
Jason was silent for a moment, letting Robbie's words sink in and choosing his own with great care. Eventually he knew he had to speak up, the silence was worse than anything and with a sigh Jason readied himself to start talking. "I haven't written anything yet, I mean yeah sure I've thought about it, but everytime I try to actually do something I just can't do it. And I don't know if I'll ever be able to."
"But you're my twin," Robbie started, unable to hide the pain he was currently feeling and uncaring that he sounded like a small, spoilt child.. "You have to speak more than anyone."
"And it's because we're twins that I can't!" Jason sighed, getting off the sofa to pace around the living room, running a hand through his hair as he tried to calm down. "I can't lose you Rob, anyone but you! I can't imagine my life without you here and knowing that there will be a day when you're no longer here is unbearable. All this planning of the funeral is driving me up the wall and I can't do it. I just can't lose you."
Robbie was silent for a moment after Jason's outburst. His twin hadn't said much over the past few months about his brain tumour and whilst he knew Jason was upset about it, Robbie didn't know just how much was being hidden.
How could he have been so blind? It took all his strength to not start cursing right then and there, and instead Robbie focused all his energy in getting up off the sofa. It took a couple of attempts, his arms were so weak they barely did him any help nowadays, and everytime he moved too quickly a sharp, blinding pain hit his head which had him gasping for breath.
As he hobbled over to his twin, Robbie could sense the desperate urge Jason was feeling, the need to help his dying brother, though to his credit he stayed where he was stood, something the teen couldn't be more thankful for.
Since his diagnosis everyone and their mother wanted to help Robbie out, driving him completely up the wall. Sure he'd told people to stop it, had even gone a bit crazy and shouted at them to leave him alone, but who was going to let the poor, dying boy struggle down the street? No-one was the answer, except for Jason that was.
The youngest Roscoe could see just how infuriated his twin got with every (in his eyes) useless kind gesture, and had learnt over the past few months, that unless Robbie specifically asked for help of some kind, it was just best to leave him to it. The grateful look in his eyes said more than any sort of thank-yous Robbie could have chosen to grace him with.
"I wish I could say something to make this better J," Robbie sighed, leaning against the dining room table and crossing his arms as he spoke.
It was a mirror image of the stance he always used to take, and if it wasn't for the fact that he was now a good twenty pounds lighter, his skin pale and lifeless with his hair now unstyled and lying greasily on his head, Jason would have been willing to believe that this whole thing was just a bad dream. But it wasn't, Robbie was sick and was going to be dead in just weeks. He was going to lose his closest confidante and the teen wasn't sure he could handle that.
"But everything I can think of that's meant to make you feel better just sounds patronising as fuck, because there's nothing I can say to make any of this better. I'm going to die. I'm so fucking sick I won't even get to go to uni. And it sucks because I don't want to go, I'm so scared of dying, but everytime I want to bring it up I can't because it's selfish of me. I mean, when I'm gone I'm gone, but for you and mum and everyone else, you have to live with me not being there. So I don't say anything, I keep my mouth shut, because who cares what the dead man thinks about?
"But I'm thinking about a lot, in fact, everyday I think of one more thing that I'll miss. I can't help it, it just all comes naturally to me. I'm never going to university. I'll never see you or the others get married. I won't get to be an uncle. I'm never going to meet the girl of my dreams. I'm never going to see Linkin Park perform live. All this and more is what I end up thinking 'bout and it kills me, because half of it is such 'day to day, everyone experiences it' sort of stuff. But not me, I'll never have to worry about a mortgage, or drinking too much during freshers week, because I won't be here to see it happen.
"But you're going to Jase. You're going to do it all and more, because you're not the one with a death warrant looming over you. And you're going to meet an amazing girl who loves you more than words can say, you're going to have kids and name the boy Robbie because you're a sentimental fucker, and you're going to die when you're really old and you've lived your life. And if you don't, I'll crawl up from my pit in hell and kick your ass, because there's no way you're going to grieve for me for the rest of your life."
"I'm going to miss your way with words," Jason deadpanned, though he was blinking back tears as he spoke.
"What can I s-" before Robbie could continue, he was being pulled into a tight hug by his twin. Saying nothing he just wrapped his arms around Jason, letting his twin cry about what was to come in the not so distant future, and if a few tears escaped him, well who was to know?
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As the summer slowly turned to autumn Robbie knew he didn't have long left. He couldn't walk 3 feet in a straight line anymore, that is, if he even had the strength to get that far unaided. It was getting hard to breath. His headaches were getting even worse.
Robbie collapsed on a Monday. He had been at home, attempting a trip to the kitchen for a glass of water when he'd been blinded by the pain in his head. All he wanted to do was breath, but it was like he was drowning and the task was impossible. When the darkness eventually enveloped there was no pain. Small mercies hey?
For the five days he was at the hospital for, Robbie couldn't help but think that this was it. He was going to die at Dee Valley hospital, and even though he'd been surrounded by his family (all of them were point blank refusing to leave his side), it wasn't what he wanted.
Robbie wanted to be at home when he went, to be in the place that held so many happy memories for him, not in the place of nightmares. But then the doctors told him he could go home and Robbie knew it was because he had only days left, despite what Sandy tried to tell him otherwise.
He didn't argue when Sandy tucked him up in bed like he was a small child. Didn't protest when his brothers helped him with every small task under the sun.
This was partly because he no longer had the strength to dissuade them, but also because he was the boy with days left. His family were barely coping with that fact as it was, if he stopped them from carrying out the kind acts, they'd probably all unravel.
He'd had to swap bunks with Jason, there was no way he'd make it up the ladder anymore, though half the time his brother was on the floor anyway, not wanting to miss anything. Robbie would say something about it, would get Jason to stop being such a sap, but he couldn't, because the closeness, the moments together as they watched a movie away from the rest of the world made the pain and misery just that little bit worth it.
And as the two brothers made their way through the Saw movies one Friday night, Robbie couldn't help but be thankful for what he had. Because yeah, his life hadn't been that great, but he'd had a loving family, people who accepted him for who he was and because of that, the teen couldn't be more grateful.
Unable to contain his smirk as he realised that Jason had fallen asleep on the floor between the third and fourth movie, Robbie prayed for the first and only time in his life. He prayed that Jason would be okay without him, that he wouldn't get himself mixed up in too much shit and that he wouldn't let the death effect him too badly.
With that done, Robbie pressed play for the next movie, getting himself comfy before exhaling one final time, letting the darkness in once more.
I'd say this is a welcome back to school treat for everyone, but well... it's not exactly the happiest of fics. I hope everyone is enjoying school as much as I am (A2s, what a laugh hey), we'll all do grand though. And for those not at school anymore, you lucky sods is all I can say.
Next Chapter - What if Lindsey had met Freddie before Joe? - fanficgirl1999 and lozxtitchx