musesandlyrics | 7.3. Robert Brault quote
7.3. "The thing about family disasters is that you never have to wait long before the next one puts the previous one into perspective."
Robert Brault
Co-written with 1twntyovreighty
[Follows THIS, THIS and THIS]
All Dave needed to get out on the phone was 'You need to come to the ER' before Chris hung up and cut him off. He was at the elevators and stabbing the button roughly just a few moments later, and any thoughts about Serena and her ex back in the ICU took a back seat for the moment. They didn't leave him mind completely, of course. In fact, Serena's silence at the guy's confession was deafening to one small part of Chris' brain. He couldn't believe she hadn't set the guy straight without hesitation and it pissed him off. Now it seemed that Dave was sick enough to land in the ER, or he had been hurt. Or maybe Aimee had been hurt. Whatever it was, Dave and the ER didn't create any good scenarios. Chris was sure this day could not get any worse.
Only it could.
Upon demanding where Dave was at the hectic nurses station, he was pointed in the direction of one of the bays up the corridor. Chris was familiar enough with the ER to find it, having only been there himself not all that long ago for his injured wrist. The fact that he was a doctor helped, no one gave him weird looks when he glanced into their bays when he passed, but he was only interested in finding Dave, it wasn't like he was gawping for the sake of it, as was tempting to visitors in a medical facility. Morbid curiosity was an interesting thing at play. He quickly peeled back the curtain of bay 17C, expecting to see Dave in the bed sick or smashed up. Dave wasn't in the bed, though. Dave was sitting beside the bed, looking sick for sure, but Dave wasn't in the bed.
Rick was in the bed.
Rick was in the bed and Dave was still beside the bed. It took Chris' brain a few moments to catch up on anything he was seeing before him and for a moment, he just stood there, mouth hanging open a little. Rick was in the bed, on IVs, looking like death. Dave was awkwardly asleep in the chair, the position indicating he hadn't planned on falling asleep, but had anyway, probably giving into it once he finally got Chris on the phone. But Rick was awake.
Looking like death.
Chris shook his head a little in confusion and continued to gape at his brother. "Do I win a set of steak knives if I guess what the hell is going on here?" he finally got out, his voice a couple of octaves higher than normal when he felt a weird panic spike in him and set his heart pounding a mile a minute in his chest.
"As long as you don't try and do anything stupid with them," Rick murmured as he gave his brother a tired smirk. He tried to sit up in the the bed and grunted before he realised it was probably better just to use the remote to adjust it. Seeing Chris finally made Rick feel more relieved than he was ever going to admit to, but then he still had to wait and see if his brother would even stick around. "So did you get lucky on your date?"
Chris held both his hands up, feeling like he wanted to smash his brother's face in again. Rick just had a way of making Chris have homicidal tendencies, no matter what the situation. He clenched his fists for a moment and then one hand went to his head to give it a sharp rub and he began to pace back and forth in front of the bed. "I can't even... I don't..." He shook his head, really not having any idea what he was supposed to say. But then he stopped and pointed at his brother. "Just shut up! For one minute, shut the hell up or I'll kill you!" He growled softly, trying to get the balls to ask why Rick was there hooked up to IVs and whatever else. Instead, Chris grabbed his chart from the end of the bed, flicking the obs charts out of the way to get to the doctors' notes. When he got to the end of them, he just looked dumbfoundedly at his brother and shook his head a little in disbelief.
Rick just gazed back at Chris, for once following his brother's instructions to shut up. He wasn't about to risk the younger Deleo's wrath even if he deserved it. He just gave a small shrug before glancing over at Dave to see if the BFF was still asleep. It was only because of Dave that Rick was even here. He could have wound up in even more trouble if Dave hadn't cottoned onto the post-op infection. After a moment Rick reached for Dr Watson's card that sat on his bedside table and offered it to Chris.
Chris took the card and glanced at it before he walked out of the bay again without another word. He wanted to go directly to the nearest wall and punch it, or maybe go outside to the roof and just scream to get the frustration out of his system. Instead, he went to the ER linen cupboard, got an extra pillow and blanket out, bringing it back to Rick's bay. There was another silent death glare at his brother before he eased the pillow in under Dave's head and threw the white hospital blanket over him. He held the card back out for Rick. "She's booked in to see you at two this afternoon. It's in your notes. If you try and fucking run away before then, I will hunt you down and I will hurt you," he vowed, even if his voice was now completely calm.
Rick took the card back and set it down as he shifted under the bed covers. It wasn't often a little brother always succeeded in cutting the eldest down to size, but Chris did that to Rick every time. And Rick didn't even have enough fight in him to argue against it. He deserved it. He held up his hand as if checking to see it was okay to talk before he even tried to open his mouth. "I'm not going anywhere, bro. I'm here to stay."
"I don't even know what to say to you right now. I don't even know why Dave is here. Do you realise how fucked up this is? You've had this infection for days!" Chris lowered his voice, so no staff or nearby patients could hear him. "Do you realise this could have fucking killed you?! You're not just bloody cancer dude, you're cancer dickhead!"
"I know! Okay? I've already been called a few things by Dave. He's the one that got me here. I was supposed to crash at his place, but then he realised about the infection. He's... You just need to talk to him, okay? I know I fucked up, I know I'm a moron, I know I'm stupid, I know I should have just got fucking treatment in the first place." Rick rubbed his hand against his forehead before he dropped it back to his side. "I'm sorry, Chris. I really am."
Chris threw his hands up again. "Stop! Just stop. Don't ever apologise to me again, because I don't damn well believe anything that comes out of your mouth anymore! It's all bullshit. All of it!" He pointed in the general direction of the Oncology ward in reference to Rick's last visit. "Telling me you want to change? Bullshit. Telling me you want to pay me back? Bullshit. You're getting my best fucking friend to keep things from me! Why the hell did you go to his place? Can't you just leave him out this?! It's one thing that I have to put up with your bullshit, but I'm not going to let you inflict my friends with it!"
"I didn't ask to fucking go there," Rick got out in a low growl. "It was his idea. He can help me because he's been through this. He's had cancer, he's a survivor. He just wants to get me in Miami because he knows that it'll help mend things between you and me. He's doing you a favour even if you don't want to fucking be here. I'm not asking for money this time, I'll stop apologising. I'll do whatever it takes, but I'm dying, Chris. Okay? I'm dying. I fucked up big time and I have cancer and I just want my little brother. Dave was just trying to help me, that's all. He still hates me, but he gets it. He's the one that told me about Dr Watson."
Somewhere around the middle of Rick's response, Chris had froze, and then paled, and was now just gaping at his brother again, though this time for a whole different reason. He soon gave a breathless laugh of disbelief and shook his head. "What are you on about? Dave's never had cancer." But as soon as the laugh came, it was gone and his eyes locked on Rick's face waiting for him to confirm the comment. But a range of different things over the weeks since Dave came to Miami started to flood back to him and before he had time to process it, it hit him like a tonne of bricks and he had to grab the end of Rick's bed to remain on his feet. "Oh my god," he choked out.
Rick reached out like he was going to try and catch Chris, but he was helpless in his bed. He watched his baby brother with concern and then glanced at Dave. "I thought you knew," he said quietly. "I didn't... I thought you knew."
Chris felt like he was going to pass out, or throw up. Maybe both. It was a miracle he was still on his feet, but it must be some inner determination somewhere keeping him upright. His knuckles were white from the force of the grip at the end of the bed and he just stared at his shoes. He wasn't sure he could look at either of them without crying, or maybe there was even a chance he was going to wet himself. His brain just wasn't cooperating with his body, that was for sure. The bacon roll, even just a mouthful of it, suddenly felt like a really bad idea. He felt his way around to the side of Rick's bed and sat down before he fell down, and then just blindly grabbed one of the sick bags sitting beside Rick and threw up into it. At least it released some of the coiled tension that had knotted rapidly inside him, even just a little. His heart was still thumping in his chest. Maybe he was going to have a heart attack? After his past few weeks, who would really blame him? This is what he imagined a heart attack would feel like. The news that his brother and best friend both had cancer, in whatever capacity, was just too much.
Rick ignored the pain this time as he leaned forward and rest his hand on Chris' shoulder to rub it soothingly. He honestly thought Chris would have known about Dave, he hadn't realised that he'd wind up letting slip some giant secret. This was also why he was never good with letting slip his own secrets. He didn't know how to cope with the aftermath. All he knew was that his brother was currently in severe shock. "I thought you knew," he whispered again before he tried to tug on Chris to get his brother to move the rest of the way so he could at least hug him. Believe it, or not, he could actually get the hugs right. "Shit, bro, I didn't mean to just dump that on you. I really do just need to keep my mouth shut, huh? Nothing good ever comes out of it. Not for you."
For some reason, Chris just moved reflexively at the tugging, but he wasn't done throwing up yet. The second wave hit him before he realised, but then he actually did feel empty... and not just in the literal meaning of the word. "Nope," he replied hoarsely, trying to catch his breath. He knew it was probably his job to try and reassure Rick right now, tell him everything was going to be okay and comfort him, but he had lost all energy for that over the years. Now any interactions with his brother just seemed to be him getting his hackles up about Rick's intentions... and Rick not disappointing him. What a fucking day he was having. He looked at Dave, who was out for the count, the weird position he was in probably the only thing stopping him from snoring or drooling. "I didn't know... but he told me," he realised and then put a hand up over his eyes to squeeze his temples with his fingers.
Rick frowned and managed to get the sick bag off Chris to set it to the side and got him a new one before he hooked his arm around Chris' shoulders pulled his brother into a hug. At least the vomiting really would get rid of some of that tension, only Rick knew he'd probably still make it worse for his brother no matter what. He'd set up a shitty pattern that mean Chris would never believe Rick was sincere or genuine about anything, and nothing Rick did was for Chris' benefit. "He told you? But why would you react like that if he'd told you? I don't understand."
Chris was feeling more than a little like he was experiencing a really bad hangover, just without the luxury of being enjoyably drunk the night before. It was an emotional hangover, and he wanted to get off the rollercoaster, stat. Something just made him accept Rick's hug, just like he always did, though it generally always came with some hesitation on his part. Chris remembered how hopefully he had felt on the roof of MT1 when they had seemingly made plans for Thanksgiving. He had really hoped it would happen, though as soon as Eva dropped the bombshell on him, he realised that was all bullshit on Rick's part, too. Then he remembered heading over to the Oncology unit to see Rick post op, once again hopeful things might be on a track of change, that Rick's promise was genuine this time. But yet even more bullshit. Chris was tired of the ups and downs. It had been one big up and down for him for months now, no wonder he felt like throwing up. This wasn't a fun rollercoaster. "I was drunk when he told me..." His forehead creased with a confused frown from where he was still in the hug. "No, I got drunk after he told me. That's why I drunk that much. He told, and I got drunk... why didn't he tell me?" he added in a small voice, more to himself than anyone else.
He abruptly pulled away and shoved Rick with a small sneer of his face. "What am I? Some sort of fucking selfish freak?! Am I walking around with a gigantic dipshit sign above my head?! This is bullshit! Any bloke that I fucking trust just shits on me from great heights! I can't... I... fuck! You can both go fuck yourselves!"
"Hey! Hey!" Rick reached out to rest his hand against the side of Chris' neck and kept him from running off. At least until Chris did genuinely decide to run off. Rick just didn't have the strength right now to keep him in place for very long. "Just shut up for a second, okay? I know me and Dad have shat on you, and you know what? Fine. I'll take that responsibility but Dave didn't shit on you. He's only ever got your best interest at heart. He would have killed me himself if he didn't think that getting me into hospital was a better plan. If he didn't tell you he had his reasons, however stupid. Mine were just selfish. I thought I was doing my best to protect you, but I guess I did the opposite. I made it worse, and I'm trying to fix it. Probably the fact that you got drunk after he told you is reason enough for him not to tell you again..."
Chris was breathless as he looked at Rick again, feeling that his face was flushed and he was close to tears, but he wouldn't give into them. He refused to do that in front of Rick. It felt like about the only person he trusted in the world right now was Serena, and even then, she had their patient making gooey eyes at her back in MT1 and her not answering him to shoot him down in flames. It was just a struggle to try and absorb any of this. Anger was the easiest thing to latch on to because any other feelings, and Chris feared he might actually drown in them. His eyes closed briefly when he realised that it wasn't just Rick that knew Dave's secret, either. Serena knew, and Aimee no doubt knew. Before Chris could stop it, he just started to laugh, putting a hand over his forehead when he couldn't stop it. "I'm such a dickhead," he said through the laughter.
Rick's eyebrows drew together as he watched Chris, and he just patted his arm awkwardly. "I'm not going to risk agreeing with you in case I get my head smashed in. Not even sure why you think you're a dickhead. You're one of the smartest guys I know, bro. You're Superman."
Chris just shot Rick a look that clearly said 'You're my big brother and that means you're an idiot'. It was probably a look Rick wasn't at all foreign with. Chris couldn't help but wonder if he had actually cracked, finally reached breaking point. "Superman wouldn't be stupid enough to give his brother thirty grand." He shook his head, sitting now with his shoulders slumped but for some reason, he hadn't moved from Rick's side. He looked at Dave, then at Rick. How was he supposed to maintain anger at two dudes who were cancer dudes? He was just going to look like an idiot. He just didn't understand why everyone wanted to hurt him like they did.
Rick's bottom lip trembled at the defeat in Chris' posture despite his brother having shot him That Look. He pulled Chris back into a hug and rubbed his hand against his back as he let out a sigh. "Superman was an only child, or something, anyway. He was smart enough not to share in the first place. Or maybe his parents blasted him to Earth to stop him from finding out he had a mooch brother. I know you probably won't believe me, but I do love you. You're my baby brother, and I want to just try and get it right before I don't get another chance."
"I love you too," Chris mumbled from where his face was squished into Rick's shoulder again. Rick talking about dying only served to increase his nausea again. He couldn't cry, he couldn't. The only time he had cried since Eva gave him the news was on the darkened beach alone that night, and he wouldn't do it in front of anyone. Maybe in the shower later, if he ever managed to get off shift. There was a lump that had taken residence in his throat, and even though he tried to swallow it back, it just felt like it grew even larger. "Might just let Dave deal with you. You listen to him, clearly. Or this just a secret cancer handshake or something?"
Rick smirked just a little, but his voice caught on a lump he refused to acknowledge was in there. "Definitely a secret cancer handshake. There's a special walk, too. Unfortunately there's no topless waitresses. Might be a hot oncologist, though. Not that you need to worry about that when you're off having dates, huh? I think he just caught me at the moment it all came crashing down. I have cancer, Chris. Fucking cancer... I don't want to go through this and not finally get my chance at being the big brother.
"Hn. You always say that," Chris pointed out, still very much unconvinced. "I'm not even saying anything to it, because I'll wake up tomorrow and you won't be here. Hot oncologist or not. She can't fuck you, so you may as well get that out of your head. You could be on the road to recovery right now if you didn't get that damn operation. I still can't believe you used my name for that. The location of the tumour, they were never going to get it all. If you had just spoken to me, I could have told you that. Kidneys are like balls. They're too risky to fuck around with. It's safer to just take the lot. This is not like flogging my ass in Battleship, you know. We're not dealing with plastic ships, it's a tumour."
"I know," Rick offered with a sigh and pulled Chris back a little so he could look in his eyes. Tears were starting to spill over onto his cheeks and he tried to blink them back. "I guess I wasn't exactly dying before, so this time I mean it. I'm not trying to sink your Battleship. I just want to survive long enough to make up for all the shit. To be the brother you really deserve. No running, no being a chicken shit. And we'll see about that oncologist. Maybe I'll even stick around long enough to fall in love."
Chris just stared for a moment. He had never, in his whole life, seen Rick cry. It took all his self-control not to actually reach out to see if the tears were real or try to pull what could be a mask off his brother and reveal a stranger under there. He suddenly felt about seven years old again, around the time their Dad started drinking. Chris had gone to sit under Rick's desk in his room to hide when his father was yelling at their mother. He remembered Rick coming in and just sitting on the bed. They didn't say anything to each other, but Chris knew his brother was there. That's all that mattered to him. Just like now. "I'm not going to let you die," fell from his mouth in a hoarse whisper before he could stop it.
Rick cleared his throat as he gave a shake of his head and rest his forehead against Chris'. This was one reason he had never wanted to tell Chris. Chris would say something ridiculously heroic and then he'd blame himself if Rick did die. He didn't want his brother carrying that kind of a burden. Only now he was starting to realise there were just some things he couldn't protect Chris from. "Because you're Superman, right?"
Chris shook his head just a little and bit down on the inside of his lip to hold his emotions in check. "No. Because I'm your brother."
Word Count | 3,903
Robert Brault
Co-written with 1twntyovreighty
[Follows THIS, THIS and THIS]
All Dave needed to get out on the phone was 'You need to come to the ER' before Chris hung up and cut him off. He was at the elevators and stabbing the button roughly just a few moments later, and any thoughts about Serena and her ex back in the ICU took a back seat for the moment. They didn't leave him mind completely, of course. In fact, Serena's silence at the guy's confession was deafening to one small part of Chris' brain. He couldn't believe she hadn't set the guy straight without hesitation and it pissed him off. Now it seemed that Dave was sick enough to land in the ER, or he had been hurt. Or maybe Aimee had been hurt. Whatever it was, Dave and the ER didn't create any good scenarios. Chris was sure this day could not get any worse.
Only it could.
Upon demanding where Dave was at the hectic nurses station, he was pointed in the direction of one of the bays up the corridor. Chris was familiar enough with the ER to find it, having only been there himself not all that long ago for his injured wrist. The fact that he was a doctor helped, no one gave him weird looks when he glanced into their bays when he passed, but he was only interested in finding Dave, it wasn't like he was gawping for the sake of it, as was tempting to visitors in a medical facility. Morbid curiosity was an interesting thing at play. He quickly peeled back the curtain of bay 17C, expecting to see Dave in the bed sick or smashed up. Dave wasn't in the bed, though. Dave was sitting beside the bed, looking sick for sure, but Dave wasn't in the bed.
Rick was in the bed.
Rick was in the bed and Dave was still beside the bed. It took Chris' brain a few moments to catch up on anything he was seeing before him and for a moment, he just stood there, mouth hanging open a little. Rick was in the bed, on IVs, looking like death. Dave was awkwardly asleep in the chair, the position indicating he hadn't planned on falling asleep, but had anyway, probably giving into it once he finally got Chris on the phone. But Rick was awake.
Looking like death.
Chris shook his head a little in confusion and continued to gape at his brother. "Do I win a set of steak knives if I guess what the hell is going on here?" he finally got out, his voice a couple of octaves higher than normal when he felt a weird panic spike in him and set his heart pounding a mile a minute in his chest.
"As long as you don't try and do anything stupid with them," Rick murmured as he gave his brother a tired smirk. He tried to sit up in the the bed and grunted before he realised it was probably better just to use the remote to adjust it. Seeing Chris finally made Rick feel more relieved than he was ever going to admit to, but then he still had to wait and see if his brother would even stick around. "So did you get lucky on your date?"
Chris held both his hands up, feeling like he wanted to smash his brother's face in again. Rick just had a way of making Chris have homicidal tendencies, no matter what the situation. He clenched his fists for a moment and then one hand went to his head to give it a sharp rub and he began to pace back and forth in front of the bed. "I can't even... I don't..." He shook his head, really not having any idea what he was supposed to say. But then he stopped and pointed at his brother. "Just shut up! For one minute, shut the hell up or I'll kill you!" He growled softly, trying to get the balls to ask why Rick was there hooked up to IVs and whatever else. Instead, Chris grabbed his chart from the end of the bed, flicking the obs charts out of the way to get to the doctors' notes. When he got to the end of them, he just looked dumbfoundedly at his brother and shook his head a little in disbelief.
Rick just gazed back at Chris, for once following his brother's instructions to shut up. He wasn't about to risk the younger Deleo's wrath even if he deserved it. He just gave a small shrug before glancing over at Dave to see if the BFF was still asleep. It was only because of Dave that Rick was even here. He could have wound up in even more trouble if Dave hadn't cottoned onto the post-op infection. After a moment Rick reached for Dr Watson's card that sat on his bedside table and offered it to Chris.
Chris took the card and glanced at it before he walked out of the bay again without another word. He wanted to go directly to the nearest wall and punch it, or maybe go outside to the roof and just scream to get the frustration out of his system. Instead, he went to the ER linen cupboard, got an extra pillow and blanket out, bringing it back to Rick's bay. There was another silent death glare at his brother before he eased the pillow in under Dave's head and threw the white hospital blanket over him. He held the card back out for Rick. "She's booked in to see you at two this afternoon. It's in your notes. If you try and fucking run away before then, I will hunt you down and I will hurt you," he vowed, even if his voice was now completely calm.
Rick took the card back and set it down as he shifted under the bed covers. It wasn't often a little brother always succeeded in cutting the eldest down to size, but Chris did that to Rick every time. And Rick didn't even have enough fight in him to argue against it. He deserved it. He held up his hand as if checking to see it was okay to talk before he even tried to open his mouth. "I'm not going anywhere, bro. I'm here to stay."
"I don't even know what to say to you right now. I don't even know why Dave is here. Do you realise how fucked up this is? You've had this infection for days!" Chris lowered his voice, so no staff or nearby patients could hear him. "Do you realise this could have fucking killed you?! You're not just bloody cancer dude, you're cancer dickhead!"
"I know! Okay? I've already been called a few things by Dave. He's the one that got me here. I was supposed to crash at his place, but then he realised about the infection. He's... You just need to talk to him, okay? I know I fucked up, I know I'm a moron, I know I'm stupid, I know I should have just got fucking treatment in the first place." Rick rubbed his hand against his forehead before he dropped it back to his side. "I'm sorry, Chris. I really am."
Chris threw his hands up again. "Stop! Just stop. Don't ever apologise to me again, because I don't damn well believe anything that comes out of your mouth anymore! It's all bullshit. All of it!" He pointed in the general direction of the Oncology ward in reference to Rick's last visit. "Telling me you want to change? Bullshit. Telling me you want to pay me back? Bullshit. You're getting my best fucking friend to keep things from me! Why the hell did you go to his place? Can't you just leave him out this?! It's one thing that I have to put up with your bullshit, but I'm not going to let you inflict my friends with it!"
"I didn't ask to fucking go there," Rick got out in a low growl. "It was his idea. He can help me because he's been through this. He's had cancer, he's a survivor. He just wants to get me in Miami because he knows that it'll help mend things between you and me. He's doing you a favour even if you don't want to fucking be here. I'm not asking for money this time, I'll stop apologising. I'll do whatever it takes, but I'm dying, Chris. Okay? I'm dying. I fucked up big time and I have cancer and I just want my little brother. Dave was just trying to help me, that's all. He still hates me, but he gets it. He's the one that told me about Dr Watson."
Somewhere around the middle of Rick's response, Chris had froze, and then paled, and was now just gaping at his brother again, though this time for a whole different reason. He soon gave a breathless laugh of disbelief and shook his head. "What are you on about? Dave's never had cancer." But as soon as the laugh came, it was gone and his eyes locked on Rick's face waiting for him to confirm the comment. But a range of different things over the weeks since Dave came to Miami started to flood back to him and before he had time to process it, it hit him like a tonne of bricks and he had to grab the end of Rick's bed to remain on his feet. "Oh my god," he choked out.
Rick reached out like he was going to try and catch Chris, but he was helpless in his bed. He watched his baby brother with concern and then glanced at Dave. "I thought you knew," he said quietly. "I didn't... I thought you knew."
Chris felt like he was going to pass out, or throw up. Maybe both. It was a miracle he was still on his feet, but it must be some inner determination somewhere keeping him upright. His knuckles were white from the force of the grip at the end of the bed and he just stared at his shoes. He wasn't sure he could look at either of them without crying, or maybe there was even a chance he was going to wet himself. His brain just wasn't cooperating with his body, that was for sure. The bacon roll, even just a mouthful of it, suddenly felt like a really bad idea. He felt his way around to the side of Rick's bed and sat down before he fell down, and then just blindly grabbed one of the sick bags sitting beside Rick and threw up into it. At least it released some of the coiled tension that had knotted rapidly inside him, even just a little. His heart was still thumping in his chest. Maybe he was going to have a heart attack? After his past few weeks, who would really blame him? This is what he imagined a heart attack would feel like. The news that his brother and best friend both had cancer, in whatever capacity, was just too much.
Rick ignored the pain this time as he leaned forward and rest his hand on Chris' shoulder to rub it soothingly. He honestly thought Chris would have known about Dave, he hadn't realised that he'd wind up letting slip some giant secret. This was also why he was never good with letting slip his own secrets. He didn't know how to cope with the aftermath. All he knew was that his brother was currently in severe shock. "I thought you knew," he whispered again before he tried to tug on Chris to get his brother to move the rest of the way so he could at least hug him. Believe it, or not, he could actually get the hugs right. "Shit, bro, I didn't mean to just dump that on you. I really do just need to keep my mouth shut, huh? Nothing good ever comes out of it. Not for you."
For some reason, Chris just moved reflexively at the tugging, but he wasn't done throwing up yet. The second wave hit him before he realised, but then he actually did feel empty... and not just in the literal meaning of the word. "Nope," he replied hoarsely, trying to catch his breath. He knew it was probably his job to try and reassure Rick right now, tell him everything was going to be okay and comfort him, but he had lost all energy for that over the years. Now any interactions with his brother just seemed to be him getting his hackles up about Rick's intentions... and Rick not disappointing him. What a fucking day he was having. He looked at Dave, who was out for the count, the weird position he was in probably the only thing stopping him from snoring or drooling. "I didn't know... but he told me," he realised and then put a hand up over his eyes to squeeze his temples with his fingers.
Rick frowned and managed to get the sick bag off Chris to set it to the side and got him a new one before he hooked his arm around Chris' shoulders pulled his brother into a hug. At least the vomiting really would get rid of some of that tension, only Rick knew he'd probably still make it worse for his brother no matter what. He'd set up a shitty pattern that mean Chris would never believe Rick was sincere or genuine about anything, and nothing Rick did was for Chris' benefit. "He told you? But why would you react like that if he'd told you? I don't understand."
Chris was feeling more than a little like he was experiencing a really bad hangover, just without the luxury of being enjoyably drunk the night before. It was an emotional hangover, and he wanted to get off the rollercoaster, stat. Something just made him accept Rick's hug, just like he always did, though it generally always came with some hesitation on his part. Chris remembered how hopefully he had felt on the roof of MT1 when they had seemingly made plans for Thanksgiving. He had really hoped it would happen, though as soon as Eva dropped the bombshell on him, he realised that was all bullshit on Rick's part, too. Then he remembered heading over to the Oncology unit to see Rick post op, once again hopeful things might be on a track of change, that Rick's promise was genuine this time. But yet even more bullshit. Chris was tired of the ups and downs. It had been one big up and down for him for months now, no wonder he felt like throwing up. This wasn't a fun rollercoaster. "I was drunk when he told me..." His forehead creased with a confused frown from where he was still in the hug. "No, I got drunk after he told me. That's why I drunk that much. He told, and I got drunk... why didn't he tell me?" he added in a small voice, more to himself than anyone else.
He abruptly pulled away and shoved Rick with a small sneer of his face. "What am I? Some sort of fucking selfish freak?! Am I walking around with a gigantic dipshit sign above my head?! This is bullshit! Any bloke that I fucking trust just shits on me from great heights! I can't... I... fuck! You can both go fuck yourselves!"
"Hey! Hey!" Rick reached out to rest his hand against the side of Chris' neck and kept him from running off. At least until Chris did genuinely decide to run off. Rick just didn't have the strength right now to keep him in place for very long. "Just shut up for a second, okay? I know me and Dad have shat on you, and you know what? Fine. I'll take that responsibility but Dave didn't shit on you. He's only ever got your best interest at heart. He would have killed me himself if he didn't think that getting me into hospital was a better plan. If he didn't tell you he had his reasons, however stupid. Mine were just selfish. I thought I was doing my best to protect you, but I guess I did the opposite. I made it worse, and I'm trying to fix it. Probably the fact that you got drunk after he told you is reason enough for him not to tell you again..."
Chris was breathless as he looked at Rick again, feeling that his face was flushed and he was close to tears, but he wouldn't give into them. He refused to do that in front of Rick. It felt like about the only person he trusted in the world right now was Serena, and even then, she had their patient making gooey eyes at her back in MT1 and her not answering him to shoot him down in flames. It was just a struggle to try and absorb any of this. Anger was the easiest thing to latch on to because any other feelings, and Chris feared he might actually drown in them. His eyes closed briefly when he realised that it wasn't just Rick that knew Dave's secret, either. Serena knew, and Aimee no doubt knew. Before Chris could stop it, he just started to laugh, putting a hand over his forehead when he couldn't stop it. "I'm such a dickhead," he said through the laughter.
Rick's eyebrows drew together as he watched Chris, and he just patted his arm awkwardly. "I'm not going to risk agreeing with you in case I get my head smashed in. Not even sure why you think you're a dickhead. You're one of the smartest guys I know, bro. You're Superman."
Chris just shot Rick a look that clearly said 'You're my big brother and that means you're an idiot'. It was probably a look Rick wasn't at all foreign with. Chris couldn't help but wonder if he had actually cracked, finally reached breaking point. "Superman wouldn't be stupid enough to give his brother thirty grand." He shook his head, sitting now with his shoulders slumped but for some reason, he hadn't moved from Rick's side. He looked at Dave, then at Rick. How was he supposed to maintain anger at two dudes who were cancer dudes? He was just going to look like an idiot. He just didn't understand why everyone wanted to hurt him like they did.
Rick's bottom lip trembled at the defeat in Chris' posture despite his brother having shot him That Look. He pulled Chris back into a hug and rubbed his hand against his back as he let out a sigh. "Superman was an only child, or something, anyway. He was smart enough not to share in the first place. Or maybe his parents blasted him to Earth to stop him from finding out he had a mooch brother. I know you probably won't believe me, but I do love you. You're my baby brother, and I want to just try and get it right before I don't get another chance."
"I love you too," Chris mumbled from where his face was squished into Rick's shoulder again. Rick talking about dying only served to increase his nausea again. He couldn't cry, he couldn't. The only time he had cried since Eva gave him the news was on the darkened beach alone that night, and he wouldn't do it in front of anyone. Maybe in the shower later, if he ever managed to get off shift. There was a lump that had taken residence in his throat, and even though he tried to swallow it back, it just felt like it grew even larger. "Might just let Dave deal with you. You listen to him, clearly. Or this just a secret cancer handshake or something?"
Rick smirked just a little, but his voice caught on a lump he refused to acknowledge was in there. "Definitely a secret cancer handshake. There's a special walk, too. Unfortunately there's no topless waitresses. Might be a hot oncologist, though. Not that you need to worry about that when you're off having dates, huh? I think he just caught me at the moment it all came crashing down. I have cancer, Chris. Fucking cancer... I don't want to go through this and not finally get my chance at being the big brother.
"Hn. You always say that," Chris pointed out, still very much unconvinced. "I'm not even saying anything to it, because I'll wake up tomorrow and you won't be here. Hot oncologist or not. She can't fuck you, so you may as well get that out of your head. You could be on the road to recovery right now if you didn't get that damn operation. I still can't believe you used my name for that. The location of the tumour, they were never going to get it all. If you had just spoken to me, I could have told you that. Kidneys are like balls. They're too risky to fuck around with. It's safer to just take the lot. This is not like flogging my ass in Battleship, you know. We're not dealing with plastic ships, it's a tumour."
"I know," Rick offered with a sigh and pulled Chris back a little so he could look in his eyes. Tears were starting to spill over onto his cheeks and he tried to blink them back. "I guess I wasn't exactly dying before, so this time I mean it. I'm not trying to sink your Battleship. I just want to survive long enough to make up for all the shit. To be the brother you really deserve. No running, no being a chicken shit. And we'll see about that oncologist. Maybe I'll even stick around long enough to fall in love."
Chris just stared for a moment. He had never, in his whole life, seen Rick cry. It took all his self-control not to actually reach out to see if the tears were real or try to pull what could be a mask off his brother and reveal a stranger under there. He suddenly felt about seven years old again, around the time their Dad started drinking. Chris had gone to sit under Rick's desk in his room to hide when his father was yelling at their mother. He remembered Rick coming in and just sitting on the bed. They didn't say anything to each other, but Chris knew his brother was there. That's all that mattered to him. Just like now. "I'm not going to let you die," fell from his mouth in a hoarse whisper before he could stop it.
Rick cleared his throat as he gave a shake of his head and rest his forehead against Chris'. This was one reason he had never wanted to tell Chris. Chris would say something ridiculously heroic and then he'd blame himself if Rick did die. He didn't want his brother carrying that kind of a burden. Only now he was starting to realise there were just some things he couldn't protect Chris from. "Because you're Superman, right?"
Chris shook his head just a little and bit down on the inside of his lip to hold his emotions in check. "No. Because I'm your brother."
Word Count | 3,903