Who: Ford Harper and Andi Kingsland What: The truth comes out When: Monday, August 19, 2019 | morning Where: Brightstar Reserve medical ward Warnings: Talk of sickness and death
Ford had been trying to rest, but it was one of those times where he was exhausted and yet utterly incapable of falling asleep. He wanted to chalk it all up to being in the medical wing, to trying to figure out what was going on with Thorne and the wards, or to any other of a hundred small worries in the back of his head, but he knew what the real problem was: this time, he was pretty sure he wasn't going to get better. Healer Strand had all-but confirmed it.
Finally checking his phone and seeing a series of worried texts from Andi was enough to draw him back out of his own thoughts for a little while, even if it had taken everything he had to force himself to tell her where he was. He didn't want to worry her further, but even more he didn't want her to see him like this. He didn't want anyone to see him like this, but with Andi he doubted he could avoid the issue like he might have been able with someone who didn't know him as well, or whose couch he didn't occupy when he wasn't in medical.
He had his eyes closed, still not sleeping, when he heard the door open again. This time, the scent that flooded the room was not Healer Strand's. "Hey," he said, without opening his eyes just yet. Maybe he could be an ostrich in the sand a little longer if he didn't have to see her expression. "You got here fast."
Awkward. That was one word to describe Andi when she woke Saturday morning. Embarrassed was another. She may have drank a little too much the night before, maybe have said things to Mia and may have drunk text Ford.
No, there was no may about. She had definitely drunk text Ford. She had the texts right there in her phone. In fact, she hadn’t allowed herself to delete them if only to serve a purpose of reminding her what a fool she had acted as well as so she could reread the part where he told her he liked her too. Over and over she read it throughout the day while she did her best to avoid Ford, or at least avoid being alone with him. That conversation...just the thought of having that conversation gave her a little bit of anxiety even if the conversation had to be had, she was afraid that her drunk texting might have ruined things.
Still, she fully expected him to return Sunday night after he had left to do whatever it was he was doing. She never thought he just wouldn’t return and for a little bit she started to worry that maybe she really had ruined things. She sent him texts, curious about where he was or if he was returning, and then throughout the night her texts became more worried. Had he gone home and was hurt by his floating furniture?
She was ready to start looking for him, even if it might be a little extreme, when his text came through. He was at the hospital.
Andi took no time in getting there.
“I apparated as far as I could,” she replied to his words. “Are you…” she shook her head as she stepped closer to the bed and looked him over. “No, that would be a stupid question. Of course you aren’t alright. Ford, what happened? What’s wrong?”
Ford laughed. He couldn't help it, because the alternative was not a route he wanted to explore right now. He wasn't sure he'd be able to lock it down again if he did. "I did too much magic." It was the answer that avoided the heart of the question, yes, but it was still the truth. "Trying to help Thorne with some stuff on the Reserve. I should have known better, but for some reason I have trouble telling him no."
For some reason. As if he didn't know. He opened his eyes and turned to look at her. "But really, I'm alright." And that wasn't a lie. He was as alright as he'd been, or close to it. "Sorry I scared you not showing back up at the house last night. I was passed out until sometime this morning."
“Because he’s your brother, and there isn’t much you wouldn’t do?” Andi asked almost rhetorically. However, she knew that Ford had just recently met his twin brother for the first time, so it was probably more of trying to please his brother and make a connection out of anything else. “Siblings can get you like that, not much I wouldn’t do for my own.”
She moved further into the room, edging towards the bed and carefully taking a seat by his leg. “It’s okay,” she said. She wanted to tell him that she had been worried that he had ran off because of the drunk texting fiasco, but she knew that would open a door they probably didn’t want to breech right now. Instead, she focused on him and why he was here.
“Ford,” she let out a small sigh. “This is the second time this has happened that I am aware of,” she said. “You becoming ill after using magic. Things like this...I mean…” she frowned, trying to find the right words. “This isn’t normal, is it?”
"I mean...it's normal for me?" Ford said, though even as he said it, he knew that automatic response wasn't going to cut it. He sighed and shifted on the bed, sitting a little higher on his pillows. If they were going to talk about this now, he at least wanted to be less pitiful about it. He reached for her hand and tugged it over so that he could hold it between both of his. "I'm sick. I've been sick for awhile. Years. It's just...it's gotten worse the last couple of weeks."
Normal for him? What did that even mean? She was about to question him further, to push a little more for answers, when he moved and then took her hand. She scooted a little closer and allowed him to sandwich her hand between his. She relaxed some and focused on their touch for just a minute until he said those dreadful words.
I’m sick. I’ve been sick for awhile. Years…
“What do you mean?” She asked, though deep down she knew it was something bad. “How sick?” The worry that she had felt earlier grew, changed, it clawed at her from the inside. It made her fearful of the answer, but she knew it was an answer she needed to know. How badly sick was he?
Ford looked down at their hands and wished he could just reverse time a little bit, maybe do something differently to not bring him to this conversation just yet, or maybe end up here without being sick—but he'd done those mental gymnastics before, and they only brought more stress. "The kind of sick you don't get over easily. Maybe not at all." He couldn't make himself look up at her again, even knowing it was cowardly. "I have leukemia. A bad kind. A kind my healers have never seen before, so they call it a 'vampiric variant.' It'd be amusingly ironic if it didn't...well, suck, no pun intended."
Andi kept her eyes on Ford, even when he looked down at their hands she kept her eyes up, and listened. The moment the words left his mouth, her heart dropped into her stomach, her hand moved to wrap more firmly around his and she had to remind herself to take in a breath so she didn’t end up fainting for lack of oxygen. That would not be helpful, and she wasn’t going to be one of those squeamish types of women who lose their minds over things such as this. It did, however, leave a nasty taste in her mouth and she had to build up a bit of saliva just to be able to swallow correctly.
“Alright,” she said slowly. “So.” She was trying to settle her mind, questions coming that she didn’t want to slam him with all at once. “Nothing you said meant that you can’t beat this, so we’ll focus on that,” she gave a tight smile and a firm nod of her head. What she really wanted to do, however, was just pull him into her arms and cry and cuddle him, but she knew, or at least thought, that right now he didn’t need that. But her free hand did come up and she brushed her fingers lightly across his cheek before cupping it and urging him to look upward. “I’m not going anywhere, Ford.”
Ford looked up and did what he could to swallow the tightness in his throat. "It's not you going anywhere that worries me," he said. He freed one hand from the cluster in his lap to cover the one she'd put over his cheek, briefly holding it there before winding their fingers together and dropping them both to his lap again. "Things always change when people know. I mean, it's good that people care and all, but I don't want to be about this." He gestured toward the bed. "I want to move halfway across the country to meet my twin brother and adopt dogs with random girls I barely know." He flashed a smile at that, but it was gone just as quickly. "I didn't expect remission to be this short this time, though." If you could even call it remission. He wasn't going to waste time with discussing those technicalities.
Andi bit her bottom lip and willed herself not to let any tears fall. Not right now. She took in a breath and let it out, though it was shaky. “You aren’t going anywhere either,” she said, sure of it as she was that the sky was blue. “I wish I could tell you that it doesn’t change things,” she started. “But I can tell you what it doesn’t change. It doesn’t change how I feel. It doesn’t change who you are, or who I see you as,” she smiled softly. “But you can’t go off across the country again and you can’t go adopting dogs with other girls, because Loki will feel cheated on,” she said, letting out a laugh that almost ended as a sob. “We will figure this out and you will beat it, I won’t take no for an answer; I’ll be here to help in any way that I can.” And she was already thinking of ways she could do that.
Ford swiped his thumb over the back of her hand and couldn't help thinking about the drunken texts she'd sent Friday night. It had seemed so normal, even though he'd never had that sort of thing happen to him before. "I'd never leave Loki behind for another dog," he said, though his smile at that was all for Andi. This time, he managed to hold her gaze, rather than dropping his eyes again. "It's already figured out. I need a bone marrow transplant. Problem is finding a compatible donor."
Andi returned Ford’s smile and squeezed his hand. “Good, I don’t think I could deal with the heartbreak...Loki’s,” she stumbled over that last bit. The timing of this was all incredibly sucky. Or great. She couldn’t figure out which one. The timing of her texts with the timing of him getting sick again. Nope, the whole thing was sucky. Him being sick was extremely sucky, no vampire pun intended at all. “Bone marrow transplant. Okay. Good. I’ll have them test me to see if I’m a match,” she said matter-of-fact like. If that was what it took to save him, she would do it. She understood that family was always a better match, but she was going to try just in case. “What about your brother, Thorne?”
Ford blinked at her. It wasn't that no one had ever offered to be tested for him before, but it was the first time it had been someone who wasn't family, and definitely a first for someone he'd known for such a short time period. He shouldn't have been surprised, but the morning had already been a trying, emotional one, and he found himself tearing up in spite of himself. He turned his face away as he struggled to get it under control, reflexively squeezing her hands. "It's only Thorne," he managed to say through his tight expression. He looked back at her, eyes still watery, but otherwise under control. "Unless someone knows how to hunt down my biological father, Thorne is the only chance I've got for a match."
Ford tearing up had Andi tearing up, both of them fighting not to let the tears fall. She took a breath to try to steady herself and squeezed his hands back. “I’ll still try,” she said. “Even if it’s a long shot.” If there was even the slightest chance, she would try it. “Does Thorne know?” Though, she guessed if he did he wouldn’t have pushed his twin on whatever they are working on.
He shook his head. It had seemed so easy earlier that morning to tell Healer Strand about it, to be confident about his indecision regarding his twin, but now…. "No, and I don't know if I can tell him. I don't know if he'll care. It's not a small thing to ask." Ford squeezed her hand again, because he knew that her offer was a big one, even if he already knew it was going to be negative. "He only barely knows me, and we didn't grow up the same. He's...bitter, and I don't know if I entirely blame him."
“Oh Ford,” Andi said softly. “You should talk to him. Tell him.” If he didn’t, if it came down to it she would. If it saved Ford, she’d do whatever it took. “I don’t know the relationship you have with your brother, but I think that he at least deserves to know and be given the chance to choose whether or not to help,” she told him. “The two of you barely know each other, you have years to catch up on, right? That can’t happen if…” she couldn’t say the rest. If he died. That wasn’t going to happen. She would not believe that was even a chance.
"It's barely a choice," Ford said, wiping at his eyes as if that would keep them from brimming over. "'Oh hey, by the way, the real reason I came to town is that I'll die if you don't do this, and I might still die if you do. So enjoy hating me for the rest of your life. Thanks.'" He looked at her for a moment before scooting over on the bed and tugging on her hand, silently inviting her closer. "I don't really want to talk about it anymore." Despite his best efforts, the tears came then, not in sobs, but a steady stream.
Andi wanted to tell him that there were better ways to put it, better ways to talk to his brother, but in the end Ford was right and it would all sound the same - that he came to town to find his brother just for his DNA that might save him. It sucked. It royally sucked. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. She was supposed to be more worried about drunk texts, not that the guy she was drunk texting might die soon.
She wanted to talk more about it, but Ford had shut the door...for now. She would let it drop, but eventually the subject would have to be brought up and sooner rather than later. When he tugged her closer and his tears started, she couldn’t hold back any longer. She moved as close as she could and pulled him into her arms and holding him too her while her own tears silently slid down her cheeks. “We’ll figure this out,” she said. “You are not alone.” And she meant that. She would be by his side through all of it, because she meant what she had said earlier: it didn’t change how she felt.