[ FIC: "Life is 50/50" - Back-hairgirl: Heero fic]
Title: Life is 50/50
Author: black_hairgirl
Focus Characters: Heero, Zechs, Wufei, others mentioned.
Warnings: Angst, Medical Jargon, Sick people, Disturbing Concepts
Chapters: 3 parts.
Heero falls ill. Written in stages of his decline.
Part 1.
Being ill never boded well with Heero Yuy.
I watched as he flinched when the doctor flashed a small penlight into his eye. His lips tightened into an annoyed scowl and I could tell he was on edge. It had been three weeks since he had begun showing symptoms that something was wrong. At first he had begun to complain about persistent, unrelievable headaches. Then, during a Preventer raid, he had doubled over with nausea. That was when I expressed my concern. Of course he refused to see a physician, despite the urging of his friends and comrades. He was in denial for almost two weeks before one day he blacked out while giving a report to Noin. It was then that we all had realized the seriousness of his condition. He still refused to see a doctor. It was only when Lady Une demanded he either see a doctor or quit the taskforce did he comply, though quite unwillingly.
“Close your eyes.” The elderly doctor said in his good-natured voice. I watched from the doorway as Heero reluctantly obeyed the man’s commands. He closed his eyes and, almost immediately, began to sway to the left. The doctor held a hand out to keep him from falling off of the examination table. Heero’s eyes snapped open and his face grew pale. I began to wonder if he was starting to come to terms with the fact that something was definitely wrong. He avoided eye contact with the doctor and began staring down at his hands, which I noticed were starting to tremble.
“Ah. Your equilibrium is also unbalanced.” The doctor said kindly. He gave Heero a gentle pat on his shoulder. “It will be necessary to do the spinal tap after all, Mr. Yuy. Then, as general protocol, we shall give you an MRI scan and a CAT scan to see if there is any fluid accumulating in your cervical vertebrae or meninges. As of now, a tumor doesn’t seem likely, considering your blood protein count is within normal range. However, we do not want to rule that option out as of yet until we get a sample of your cerebrospinal fluid.”
Just when I thought the Japanese boy couldn’t grow any paler, he did. The doctor glanced at me, tried to smile as reassuringly as possible, and then turned to write something on a clipboard. “I will be back in just one moment to get your consent forms for treatment,” the physician said softly. He retrieved his paperwork and slid past me and out into the hall. I quickly followed him and managed to stop him beside the elevator.
“If he were to have a brain tumor, what are the chances of successful recovery?” I asked as calmly as I could. I hoped my anxiety wasn’t too apparent. The doctor paused in front of the elevator and turned to regard me with a flat, emotionless expression.
“All life things in life are 50/50, Mr. Peacecraft, no matter how we try to change the odds.” He gave me a wry smile before ducking into the elevator.
I returned to the examination room. Heero was still on the examination table. He had put his shirt back on and was now staring blankly at the far corner of the little room.
“Are you okay, Heero?” I inquired. I was sincerely concerned for the young former pilot. He shrugged his shoulders and began aiming his cold stare at other parts of the room. Currently he was fixated on the container of cotton balls on the small counter nearby.
“I just never thought…” he began, though immediately silenced himself. I didn’t pry further into his feelings. We sat in silence while we waited. A short time later the doctor returned with a giant stack of carbon-backed papers for him to sign. Heero scribbled through them all without regarding the fine print. It was obvious that he didn’t care what they did.
Part 2.
“A neurologist located the tumor behind Heero’s eyes in his occipital lobe. They described it to be about the size of a golf ball. It had not spread to any other part of his body, but it was so enveloped in the soft tissue that it would have been a high-risk surgery. Therefore, the doctors decided to attempt to use other means of killing the tumor before opting to cut it out.
For five months after diagnosis Heero has endured many treatments, tests and therapies to try and remove the tumor and to reduce his debilitating neurological symptoms. As the weeks passed the Japanese boy had begun to change. His appearance was the first noticeable alteration. He was very pale and dark, gray circles had formed under his cloudy, gray-blue eyes. His hair had fallen out during the first course of his chemotherapy. He barely ate, which made his already lithe frame even thinner.
Une had insisted that he take medical leave despite his protests. A series of private nurses had been hired to visit him at home to help him eat, take his medication and to ensure his safety. They didn’t last long. He had managed to scare off six different nurses before Trowa finally volunteered to stay with him.” I paused to sip from my coffee mug. Wufei shifted in the chair across the table. I could tell he was very uncomfortable with this news.
“So, now he is to have the surgery?” Wufei finally mumbled. He was leaning across the table with eyes that were hungry for information.
“Yes. Tomorrow night.” I said softly as I finished off the thin layer of lukewarm coffee from the bottom of my Preventer mug. I watched as the Chinese agent nodded his head before drifting off into thought.
“I know this sounds callous of me, but it must be said,” I began, “but in Heero’s absence I will need you here at headquarters. I understand that your work in China is very time intensive but we are in need of a new captain of our taskforce…”
Wufei straightened in his seat. His dark eyes narrowed to form an intense glare which was now aimed at my nose. “Are you suggesting that he will not return to work?”
I nodded. Wufei frowned. “No. I cannot accept that position,” he said with a scowl. He seemed disgusted with me and did nothing to try and hide it. “He is not dead. He will not die.”
I sighed and watched as Wufei jumped up from his seat and moped away. I knew he wanted to believe that everything would be alright. I, too, had hoped that Heero would recover. I remembered what the doctor said. “All things in life are 50/50.”
I knew deep down that Heero would probably live; it was his quality of life that we were staking odds on. Fifty percent for the strong, capable soldier. Fifty percent for a weak whisp of his former self.
Which would it be?
Part 3. Final.
“Oh, how nice to see you again Mr. Peacecraft,” chirped one of the nurses from the nurses station. She immediately hopped up from her seat and approached me with a happy and rather please smile. “I was wondering when you would come back!”
“Yes. It has been some time now, I have been traveling for business.” I replied as I followed her down a narrow, yellow hallway. The smell of bleach and latex made my stomach churn with disgust. I never cared for the distinct smell of medical facilities.
“Well, we are glad to have you back. I am sure Mr. Yuy will be so excited!” She exclaimed happily. Somehow I wasn’t so sure. She led me to the very last door on the right. She knocked loudly before flinging the door inward, not waiting for an answer.
“I’ll sign you in. Just make sure you sign out before you leave!” She said brightly before vanishing down the hall. I clutched the flowers I had been carrying tightly against my chest, took a steadying breath and then stepped boldly inside.
The room was brightly lit by a large picture window beside the bed. The view outside was of Brussels’s industrial district. Cars and people mulled around silently on the streets about four stories below. Stepped up to the foot of the bed and looked down.
“Good morning, Heero.”
He stared up at me with wide, unblinking eyes. His lips were parted slightly and a stream of spit ran from the corner of his mouth and down its neck where it was then absorbed by a square of gauze. A monitor over the bed beeped a slow, even rhythm and occasionally a light flashed on another screen that read “98%”. His hair was short, having grown in almost an inch from the surgery. Despite his hair growth a wide, semi-circle crevice on his scalp was still noticeable. A small white tube connected to a quietly grinding pump ran up through his nose along with a nasal cannula that hissed loudly with oxygen. His chest rose and fell intermittently. When it ceased to rise the screen reading “98%” would read “95%-94%-93%” before rising once more to “98%”.
I stepped around to the left side of the bed. His eyes continued to stare straight ahead on the television which now was playing a brightly-colored cartoon.
“I am sorry I haven’t been by in a while. We have had some outbreaks of violence in Russia. More former OZ soldiers looking for one last hurrah.” I explained to him. He didn’t move and didn’t seem to regard me in any way. I leaned down close to him and immediately noted that his skin was dingy from not having been bathed in some time. He also had a faint, stale urine smell to him. I pulled the blankets back away from his chest and then down from his pelvis. A catheter had been inserted into his urethra and immediately I noted around the tip of his penis was swollen.
Anger began to rise into my throat and I nearly vomited in disgust. I threw the orchids I had brought him onto the foot of the bed, recovered his neglected body and stormed out into the hallway. The nurse who had greeted me was standing beside a doctor discussing something over a large, overfilled binder.
“Excuse me,” I interrupted, not caring whether they thought me rude or not. “Why hasn’t Mr. Yuy been bathed? He has an infection as well. I want to see his nurse and doctor, NOW.”
The nurse frowned and feigned a look of concern. The doctor lifted an eyebrow at me, obviously oblivious to my claims. They gave me a few excuses and apologies before following me into Heero’s room. I pulled back the covers and revealed my find. The nurse put her hand over her mouth in artificial shock while the doctor looked Heero over, frowned, and then glared heatedly at the nurse.
“How long have you known about this?” The doctor scolded the nurse. The woman shook her head and tried to come up with a defense for her neglect.
“I am deeply disappointed in his treatment and, if he contracts any bedsores or infections from this neglect I will be forced to file lawsuit-“
“Sir, now… don’t worry, we will have this fixed and I promise it will never happen again.” The doctor assured me, all the while glaring holes into the nurses’ skull.
“I would like to bathe him.” I blurted. They both stopped their silent, angry exchanges and gave me a look of disbelief.
“Are you sure?” The nurse asked, looking worried. “I can do it. I will do it right now.” I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest.
“No. I wish to do it myself, to make sure he receives thorough care.” She shrunk at my words, nodded, and then retreated down the hall to get some supplies.
Within minutes I had warm, clean water, towels and washcloths, and sweet-scented soap. Then she gave me a string of apologies, which I ended by closing the door firmly in her face.
I arranged Heero the best I could on a blue bathing pad and then began cleaning the thick layer of grime from his white, papery skin. He never moved, blinked or twitched as spread the thick lather.
“I am sorry, Heero, for not being here for you.” I murmured as I washed him. He was so thin that every place I grabbed felt brittle and frail. “I have never forgotten about you…” I finished soaping him up and began to gently, but firmly scrub away the dirt. He just lie there staring up at the ceiling with blank, unemotional eyes. I tried to flatten his legs but found that his knees were contracted, stuck fast in a slight bend. His fingers seemed to be fused together and it took a lot of effort to clean between them. His body was stiff from disuse and nearly all of his muscle had dystrophied to the point of non-existence.
I finished cleaning him from head to toe. Then I called the nurse in and watched as she changed his catheter and treated the swollen, infected catheter site.
“I am very disappointed with his treatment.” I said to her as she worked. I wanted her to know my displeasure and that her being the head nurse made her responsible for his neglected state. “I hope this will never happen again.”
“Oh no, of course not. I have spoken to his nurse personally and-“
I stopped listening to her. Her words were empty, formed only to give me false peace of mind. I knew that nobody cared. Why should they? He was nothing to them. They did not realize who was lying so helplessly at the end of the hall, rotting away in his own filth. They did not care that he had saved us all from war and destruction.
If only they could have known him for what he was. If only they had seen him in action. Would they have thought differently if they had seen him fighting for their freedoms?
Once she had finished the procedure I escorted her from the room and closed the door on her once more. I returned to the side of Heero’s bed. He was now lying on clean linen and smelled of fresh soap. I smiled at him. He stared unmoving at me. I turned to change his television station to the news, something I knew he would care about. I placed his white orchids in his line of vision so he could enjoy the way the sunlight shone through the thin, pale petals. Once I was satisfied with the arrangement of his room I took a seat beside him and grabbed a boney arm. I messaged it carefully between my hands and spent the next hour telling him about everyone. I told him about Wufei taking his position as captain of the taskforce. I let him know how Quatre and Trowa were doing. I updated him on Relena’s new campaign and of Noin expecting twins, and of the book Lady Une had published.
I made him promises. I told him I would make sure he was well kept. I let him know that I would visit as often as I could and that next time I would the file of his last case and read it to him aloud to let him know how it was resolved. Once I could think of nothing else to say I said goodbye and left.
As I walked past the nurse’s station the head nurse bid me farewell. I ignored her. I entered the empty elevator and punched the ground floor button. When the doors closed I saw my reflection staring back at me on the polished steel panels. I closed my eyes to block out the depressing image of myself clad in my Preventer uniform. I felt a tear escape from my tightly closed eyes and held back a sob as it slid down my cheek.
Wufei was right. Heero had lived, he just was no longer alive.
Author: black_hairgirl
Focus Characters: Heero, Zechs, Wufei, others mentioned.
Warnings: Angst, Medical Jargon, Sick people, Disturbing Concepts
Chapters: 3 parts.
Heero falls ill. Written in stages of his decline.
Part 1.
Being ill never boded well with Heero Yuy.
I watched as he flinched when the doctor flashed a small penlight into his eye. His lips tightened into an annoyed scowl and I could tell he was on edge. It had been three weeks since he had begun showing symptoms that something was wrong. At first he had begun to complain about persistent, unrelievable headaches. Then, during a Preventer raid, he had doubled over with nausea. That was when I expressed my concern. Of course he refused to see a physician, despite the urging of his friends and comrades. He was in denial for almost two weeks before one day he blacked out while giving a report to Noin. It was then that we all had realized the seriousness of his condition. He still refused to see a doctor. It was only when Lady Une demanded he either see a doctor or quit the taskforce did he comply, though quite unwillingly.
“Close your eyes.” The elderly doctor said in his good-natured voice. I watched from the doorway as Heero reluctantly obeyed the man’s commands. He closed his eyes and, almost immediately, began to sway to the left. The doctor held a hand out to keep him from falling off of the examination table. Heero’s eyes snapped open and his face grew pale. I began to wonder if he was starting to come to terms with the fact that something was definitely wrong. He avoided eye contact with the doctor and began staring down at his hands, which I noticed were starting to tremble.
“Ah. Your equilibrium is also unbalanced.” The doctor said kindly. He gave Heero a gentle pat on his shoulder. “It will be necessary to do the spinal tap after all, Mr. Yuy. Then, as general protocol, we shall give you an MRI scan and a CAT scan to see if there is any fluid accumulating in your cervical vertebrae or meninges. As of now, a tumor doesn’t seem likely, considering your blood protein count is within normal range. However, we do not want to rule that option out as of yet until we get a sample of your cerebrospinal fluid.”
Just when I thought the Japanese boy couldn’t grow any paler, he did. The doctor glanced at me, tried to smile as reassuringly as possible, and then turned to write something on a clipboard. “I will be back in just one moment to get your consent forms for treatment,” the physician said softly. He retrieved his paperwork and slid past me and out into the hall. I quickly followed him and managed to stop him beside the elevator.
“If he were to have a brain tumor, what are the chances of successful recovery?” I asked as calmly as I could. I hoped my anxiety wasn’t too apparent. The doctor paused in front of the elevator and turned to regard me with a flat, emotionless expression.
“All life things in life are 50/50, Mr. Peacecraft, no matter how we try to change the odds.” He gave me a wry smile before ducking into the elevator.
I returned to the examination room. Heero was still on the examination table. He had put his shirt back on and was now staring blankly at the far corner of the little room.
“Are you okay, Heero?” I inquired. I was sincerely concerned for the young former pilot. He shrugged his shoulders and began aiming his cold stare at other parts of the room. Currently he was fixated on the container of cotton balls on the small counter nearby.
“I just never thought…” he began, though immediately silenced himself. I didn’t pry further into his feelings. We sat in silence while we waited. A short time later the doctor returned with a giant stack of carbon-backed papers for him to sign. Heero scribbled through them all without regarding the fine print. It was obvious that he didn’t care what they did.
Part 2.
“A neurologist located the tumor behind Heero’s eyes in his occipital lobe. They described it to be about the size of a golf ball. It had not spread to any other part of his body, but it was so enveloped in the soft tissue that it would have been a high-risk surgery. Therefore, the doctors decided to attempt to use other means of killing the tumor before opting to cut it out.
For five months after diagnosis Heero has endured many treatments, tests and therapies to try and remove the tumor and to reduce his debilitating neurological symptoms. As the weeks passed the Japanese boy had begun to change. His appearance was the first noticeable alteration. He was very pale and dark, gray circles had formed under his cloudy, gray-blue eyes. His hair had fallen out during the first course of his chemotherapy. He barely ate, which made his already lithe frame even thinner.
Une had insisted that he take medical leave despite his protests. A series of private nurses had been hired to visit him at home to help him eat, take his medication and to ensure his safety. They didn’t last long. He had managed to scare off six different nurses before Trowa finally volunteered to stay with him.” I paused to sip from my coffee mug. Wufei shifted in the chair across the table. I could tell he was very uncomfortable with this news.
“So, now he is to have the surgery?” Wufei finally mumbled. He was leaning across the table with eyes that were hungry for information.
“Yes. Tomorrow night.” I said softly as I finished off the thin layer of lukewarm coffee from the bottom of my Preventer mug. I watched as the Chinese agent nodded his head before drifting off into thought.
“I know this sounds callous of me, but it must be said,” I began, “but in Heero’s absence I will need you here at headquarters. I understand that your work in China is very time intensive but we are in need of a new captain of our taskforce…”
Wufei straightened in his seat. His dark eyes narrowed to form an intense glare which was now aimed at my nose. “Are you suggesting that he will not return to work?”
I nodded. Wufei frowned. “No. I cannot accept that position,” he said with a scowl. He seemed disgusted with me and did nothing to try and hide it. “He is not dead. He will not die.”
I sighed and watched as Wufei jumped up from his seat and moped away. I knew he wanted to believe that everything would be alright. I, too, had hoped that Heero would recover. I remembered what the doctor said. “All things in life are 50/50.”
I knew deep down that Heero would probably live; it was his quality of life that we were staking odds on. Fifty percent for the strong, capable soldier. Fifty percent for a weak whisp of his former self.
Which would it be?
Part 3. Final.
“Oh, how nice to see you again Mr. Peacecraft,” chirped one of the nurses from the nurses station. She immediately hopped up from her seat and approached me with a happy and rather please smile. “I was wondering when you would come back!”
“Yes. It has been some time now, I have been traveling for business.” I replied as I followed her down a narrow, yellow hallway. The smell of bleach and latex made my stomach churn with disgust. I never cared for the distinct smell of medical facilities.
“Well, we are glad to have you back. I am sure Mr. Yuy will be so excited!” She exclaimed happily. Somehow I wasn’t so sure. She led me to the very last door on the right. She knocked loudly before flinging the door inward, not waiting for an answer.
“I’ll sign you in. Just make sure you sign out before you leave!” She said brightly before vanishing down the hall. I clutched the flowers I had been carrying tightly against my chest, took a steadying breath and then stepped boldly inside.
The room was brightly lit by a large picture window beside the bed. The view outside was of Brussels’s industrial district. Cars and people mulled around silently on the streets about four stories below. Stepped up to the foot of the bed and looked down.
“Good morning, Heero.”
He stared up at me with wide, unblinking eyes. His lips were parted slightly and a stream of spit ran from the corner of his mouth and down its neck where it was then absorbed by a square of gauze. A monitor over the bed beeped a slow, even rhythm and occasionally a light flashed on another screen that read “98%”. His hair was short, having grown in almost an inch from the surgery. Despite his hair growth a wide, semi-circle crevice on his scalp was still noticeable. A small white tube connected to a quietly grinding pump ran up through his nose along with a nasal cannula that hissed loudly with oxygen. His chest rose and fell intermittently. When it ceased to rise the screen reading “98%” would read “95%-94%-93%” before rising once more to “98%”.
I stepped around to the left side of the bed. His eyes continued to stare straight ahead on the television which now was playing a brightly-colored cartoon.
“I am sorry I haven’t been by in a while. We have had some outbreaks of violence in Russia. More former OZ soldiers looking for one last hurrah.” I explained to him. He didn’t move and didn’t seem to regard me in any way. I leaned down close to him and immediately noted that his skin was dingy from not having been bathed in some time. He also had a faint, stale urine smell to him. I pulled the blankets back away from his chest and then down from his pelvis. A catheter had been inserted into his urethra and immediately I noted around the tip of his penis was swollen.
Anger began to rise into my throat and I nearly vomited in disgust. I threw the orchids I had brought him onto the foot of the bed, recovered his neglected body and stormed out into the hallway. The nurse who had greeted me was standing beside a doctor discussing something over a large, overfilled binder.
“Excuse me,” I interrupted, not caring whether they thought me rude or not. “Why hasn’t Mr. Yuy been bathed? He has an infection as well. I want to see his nurse and doctor, NOW.”
The nurse frowned and feigned a look of concern. The doctor lifted an eyebrow at me, obviously oblivious to my claims. They gave me a few excuses and apologies before following me into Heero’s room. I pulled back the covers and revealed my find. The nurse put her hand over her mouth in artificial shock while the doctor looked Heero over, frowned, and then glared heatedly at the nurse.
“How long have you known about this?” The doctor scolded the nurse. The woman shook her head and tried to come up with a defense for her neglect.
“I am deeply disappointed in his treatment and, if he contracts any bedsores or infections from this neglect I will be forced to file lawsuit-“
“Sir, now… don’t worry, we will have this fixed and I promise it will never happen again.” The doctor assured me, all the while glaring holes into the nurses’ skull.
“I would like to bathe him.” I blurted. They both stopped their silent, angry exchanges and gave me a look of disbelief.
“Are you sure?” The nurse asked, looking worried. “I can do it. I will do it right now.” I shook my head and crossed my arms over my chest.
“No. I wish to do it myself, to make sure he receives thorough care.” She shrunk at my words, nodded, and then retreated down the hall to get some supplies.
Within minutes I had warm, clean water, towels and washcloths, and sweet-scented soap. Then she gave me a string of apologies, which I ended by closing the door firmly in her face.
I arranged Heero the best I could on a blue bathing pad and then began cleaning the thick layer of grime from his white, papery skin. He never moved, blinked or twitched as spread the thick lather.
“I am sorry, Heero, for not being here for you.” I murmured as I washed him. He was so thin that every place I grabbed felt brittle and frail. “I have never forgotten about you…” I finished soaping him up and began to gently, but firmly scrub away the dirt. He just lie there staring up at the ceiling with blank, unemotional eyes. I tried to flatten his legs but found that his knees were contracted, stuck fast in a slight bend. His fingers seemed to be fused together and it took a lot of effort to clean between them. His body was stiff from disuse and nearly all of his muscle had dystrophied to the point of non-existence.
I finished cleaning him from head to toe. Then I called the nurse in and watched as she changed his catheter and treated the swollen, infected catheter site.
“I am very disappointed with his treatment.” I said to her as she worked. I wanted her to know my displeasure and that her being the head nurse made her responsible for his neglected state. “I hope this will never happen again.”
“Oh no, of course not. I have spoken to his nurse personally and-“
I stopped listening to her. Her words were empty, formed only to give me false peace of mind. I knew that nobody cared. Why should they? He was nothing to them. They did not realize who was lying so helplessly at the end of the hall, rotting away in his own filth. They did not care that he had saved us all from war and destruction.
If only they could have known him for what he was. If only they had seen him in action. Would they have thought differently if they had seen him fighting for their freedoms?
Once she had finished the procedure I escorted her from the room and closed the door on her once more. I returned to the side of Heero’s bed. He was now lying on clean linen and smelled of fresh soap. I smiled at him. He stared unmoving at me. I turned to change his television station to the news, something I knew he would care about. I placed his white orchids in his line of vision so he could enjoy the way the sunlight shone through the thin, pale petals. Once I was satisfied with the arrangement of his room I took a seat beside him and grabbed a boney arm. I messaged it carefully between my hands and spent the next hour telling him about everyone. I told him about Wufei taking his position as captain of the taskforce. I let him know how Quatre and Trowa were doing. I updated him on Relena’s new campaign and of Noin expecting twins, and of the book Lady Une had published.
I made him promises. I told him I would make sure he was well kept. I let him know that I would visit as often as I could and that next time I would the file of his last case and read it to him aloud to let him know how it was resolved. Once I could think of nothing else to say I said goodbye and left.
As I walked past the nurse’s station the head nurse bid me farewell. I ignored her. I entered the empty elevator and punched the ground floor button. When the doors closed I saw my reflection staring back at me on the polished steel panels. I closed my eyes to block out the depressing image of myself clad in my Preventer uniform. I felt a tear escape from my tightly closed eyes and held back a sob as it slid down my cheek.
Wufei was right. Heero had lived, he just was no longer alive.