just_muse_me | 17.1.3. Chinese proverb
17.1.3. “A man should choose a friend who is better than himself. There are plenty of acquaintances in the world; but very few real friends.” - Chinese proverb
Co-written with chasemd
It seemed to be a real effort for Chase to wake up right now. His eyes just seemed to want to stay constantly shut and he didn't feel like he had the energy to do much of anything. Thankfully that first night after the chemo had been the worst, his body obviously struggling to adjust to the onslaught of such strong chemicals in his system. The nausea seemed to be there all the time for the moment, giving him very little appetite, but the actual vomiting part had settled to just now and again, and he could usually tell when it was coming. His muscles felt tired and heavy and his skin sensitive. The most basic of personal tasks had become a trial, so on Wilson's advise, he was just staying in bed until he started to regain some energy again. He was still waiting for that to happen.
As he woke again for what felt like the millionth time since getting home from hospital, he looked at the clock. It was just habit now. No time the digital display said really surprised him anymore. He was mostly sleeping the days and the nights away as his body tried to fight the illness and the medication running through him. He pushed the covers away from his face and stiffly shifted onto his back, but as he did, he caught sight of Lachlan sitting on the window sill with his guitar resting across his lap as he sucked intently on something. The light was streaming through the window and beating off the shiney lacquer of the instrument and Chase blinked groggily a few times. "Am I dead?" he asked hoarsely.
Lachlan only just noticed that Chase had woken and he pulled the icy pole out of his mouth with his eyebrows raised. "You arenae dead, buddy. What makes you say that? We're trying to keep you with us a wee bit longer yet. That's why you're feeling so crap." His fingers brushed over the strings of the guitar, emitting a soft melody through the room.
"Sure?" Chase asked uncertainly, still peering tiredly at his friend. "Trying to work out why you're sitting on my bedroom windowsill with your guitar and sucking on that icy pole far too expertly for a straight man. I wasn't sure if you surviving the shooting was all in my imagination and you were my welcome the Pearly Gates."
"Sorry, buddy. You arenae on your one way ticket just yet. We're both still in the land of the living." Lachlan studied the icy pole for a moment and shrugged. "My best mate's gay. It had to rub off sooner or later. I'm gay for icy poles. Want one? They're a really good way to keep you hydrated when you dinnae have much of an appetite."
Chase waved his hand a little and sunk back down onto his pillow. "Doesn't explain the guitar."
"I like my guitar," Lachlan returned easily, shrugging again. "You dinnae know what I get up to with it in private. Got any requests?"
"Now I just kinda want you to offer a Scottish rendition of 'I Touch Myself'," Chase said with a faint smirk. "I'm missing something here, aren't I?"
"Scottish renditions of a good toss are the same in every country in the world, buddy. Hate to break it to you." Lachlan made a rude gesture with the icy pole and rested his foot up on the sill. "Aye, you have chemo brain. I willnae hold it against you. An explanation as to why I'm here and nay just my icy phallus and guitar might help, aye?"
Chase pointed. "That's it. Why are you here if you aren't my Guardian Angel welcoming me into Heaven... not that I actually expect to make it up there. Promise me you're alive and kicking?"
Lachlan nodded as he finished off the icy pole, setting the stick aside. He started to play the chorus of 'I Touch Myself' quietly on the guitar. "I'm well alive, mate. You're the one that kept me here, remember? Dinnae know about the kicking, though. I dinnae make it a habit of booting ill people. Might've made getting my MD a wee bit hard," he pointed out with a smirk. "I'm Aussie sitting. Tara and Rogue synced the post-natal check-ups for the bairns, so Tara could take Rogue and she'd nay have to worry about trying to find her own way there. She didnae want to wake you when they were leaving, so I'm sticking around until they get back. Surprise."
Chase's forehead creased. "Fuck. Yeah, Mia was due." He rubbed his hand over his forehead with a groan. "I wanted to go to that."
Lachlan understood. He had wanted to go to his son's as well, but this was better all around, especially for Rogue. "You need to rest, buddy. Running around a couple of days after the chemo could set you well back. Nay to mention hanging out in a bairn clinic with any number of germs in the air. Your immune system will be up the shit. Bugs will jump on you like flies to a shit pile and it could land you back in hospital if you get infections. You dinnae need that and I'm sure Rogue would much prefer you home with her."
"You're right," Chase murmured. He shifted again in the bed when his stomach started to bother him. "At least I know they're in good hands with Tara. But you don't need to stay, mate. I'm finding some sort of way with it, even if it's as horrible as all fuck."
"I know I dinnae have to, buddy, but I want to. You helped me out more than I can ever thank you for after all my shit. I'll help you and your family out with anything you need, any time," Lachlan promised. He put the guitar down carefully and sat forward. "If you ever need anything - anything at all - you just have to ask. Dinnae think you're imposing or a burden. Aye? After everything, we're family now."
Chase nodded. "Thanks, mate. You don't know how much that means to me."
"Aye..." Lachlan said quietly, holding Chase's gaze. "Aye, I do. More than anything."
Rogue [justalilcontact], Dr Tara Campbell [doctortara] & Dr James Wilson [headofoncology] referenced with permission
Word Count | 1,040
Co-written with chasemd
It seemed to be a real effort for Chase to wake up right now. His eyes just seemed to want to stay constantly shut and he didn't feel like he had the energy to do much of anything. Thankfully that first night after the chemo had been the worst, his body obviously struggling to adjust to the onslaught of such strong chemicals in his system. The nausea seemed to be there all the time for the moment, giving him very little appetite, but the actual vomiting part had settled to just now and again, and he could usually tell when it was coming. His muscles felt tired and heavy and his skin sensitive. The most basic of personal tasks had become a trial, so on Wilson's advise, he was just staying in bed until he started to regain some energy again. He was still waiting for that to happen.
As he woke again for what felt like the millionth time since getting home from hospital, he looked at the clock. It was just habit now. No time the digital display said really surprised him anymore. He was mostly sleeping the days and the nights away as his body tried to fight the illness and the medication running through him. He pushed the covers away from his face and stiffly shifted onto his back, but as he did, he caught sight of Lachlan sitting on the window sill with his guitar resting across his lap as he sucked intently on something. The light was streaming through the window and beating off the shiney lacquer of the instrument and Chase blinked groggily a few times. "Am I dead?" he asked hoarsely.
Lachlan only just noticed that Chase had woken and he pulled the icy pole out of his mouth with his eyebrows raised. "You arenae dead, buddy. What makes you say that? We're trying to keep you with us a wee bit longer yet. That's why you're feeling so crap." His fingers brushed over the strings of the guitar, emitting a soft melody through the room.
"Sure?" Chase asked uncertainly, still peering tiredly at his friend. "Trying to work out why you're sitting on my bedroom windowsill with your guitar and sucking on that icy pole far too expertly for a straight man. I wasn't sure if you surviving the shooting was all in my imagination and you were my welcome the Pearly Gates."
"Sorry, buddy. You arenae on your one way ticket just yet. We're both still in the land of the living." Lachlan studied the icy pole for a moment and shrugged. "My best mate's gay. It had to rub off sooner or later. I'm gay for icy poles. Want one? They're a really good way to keep you hydrated when you dinnae have much of an appetite."
Chase waved his hand a little and sunk back down onto his pillow. "Doesn't explain the guitar."
"I like my guitar," Lachlan returned easily, shrugging again. "You dinnae know what I get up to with it in private. Got any requests?"
"Now I just kinda want you to offer a Scottish rendition of 'I Touch Myself'," Chase said with a faint smirk. "I'm missing something here, aren't I?"
"Scottish renditions of a good toss are the same in every country in the world, buddy. Hate to break it to you." Lachlan made a rude gesture with the icy pole and rested his foot up on the sill. "Aye, you have chemo brain. I willnae hold it against you. An explanation as to why I'm here and nay just my icy phallus and guitar might help, aye?"
Chase pointed. "That's it. Why are you here if you aren't my Guardian Angel welcoming me into Heaven... not that I actually expect to make it up there. Promise me you're alive and kicking?"
Lachlan nodded as he finished off the icy pole, setting the stick aside. He started to play the chorus of 'I Touch Myself' quietly on the guitar. "I'm well alive, mate. You're the one that kept me here, remember? Dinnae know about the kicking, though. I dinnae make it a habit of booting ill people. Might've made getting my MD a wee bit hard," he pointed out with a smirk. "I'm Aussie sitting. Tara and Rogue synced the post-natal check-ups for the bairns, so Tara could take Rogue and she'd nay have to worry about trying to find her own way there. She didnae want to wake you when they were leaving, so I'm sticking around until they get back. Surprise."
Chase's forehead creased. "Fuck. Yeah, Mia was due." He rubbed his hand over his forehead with a groan. "I wanted to go to that."
Lachlan understood. He had wanted to go to his son's as well, but this was better all around, especially for Rogue. "You need to rest, buddy. Running around a couple of days after the chemo could set you well back. Nay to mention hanging out in a bairn clinic with any number of germs in the air. Your immune system will be up the shit. Bugs will jump on you like flies to a shit pile and it could land you back in hospital if you get infections. You dinnae need that and I'm sure Rogue would much prefer you home with her."
"You're right," Chase murmured. He shifted again in the bed when his stomach started to bother him. "At least I know they're in good hands with Tara. But you don't need to stay, mate. I'm finding some sort of way with it, even if it's as horrible as all fuck."
"I know I dinnae have to, buddy, but I want to. You helped me out more than I can ever thank you for after all my shit. I'll help you and your family out with anything you need, any time," Lachlan promised. He put the guitar down carefully and sat forward. "If you ever need anything - anything at all - you just have to ask. Dinnae think you're imposing or a burden. Aye? After everything, we're family now."
Chase nodded. "Thanks, mate. You don't know how much that means to me."
"Aye..." Lachlan said quietly, holding Chase's gaze. "Aye, I do. More than anything."
Rogue [justalilcontact], Dr Tara Campbell [doctortara] & Dr James Wilson [headofoncology] referenced with permission
Word Count | 1,040