testdog65 (testdog65) wrote in qaf_challenges, @ 2007-04-14 18:20:00 |
|
|||
Original poster: _alicesprings
Title: What Matters Now – Ch. 1
Written By: altsunthinkable
Timeline: mid S4
Rating: PG-13 (for this part)
Warnings: WIP
What if: Justin had cancer instead of Brian?
Author's Notes: I started this story thinking it would be a long one or two parter but quickly realized as I was writing that it was developing into far more than that. So I had to decide on where to break it down into parts. And while this is currently still a WIP, I plan to have it finished either before the authors are revealed or shortly thereafter. The rest of the parts will be posted at my journal. I know many people don’t like to read WIPs, but I hope that doesn’t dissuade too many people from reading this first part.
Justin took a deep breath, wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans, and pushed open the front door of Kinnetik. He felt shaky, slightly sick to his stomach, and like his heart was beating just a little too fast. Pretty much how he’d felt ever since leaving the doctor’s office an hour ago. He’d had to change buses twice on his way to Liberty Avenue but he was virtually on autopilot. He hadn’t even been fully conscious of his destination until the bus deposited him at the stop a block from the diner.
But now that he had arrived, Justin was feeling even more anxious. This probably wasn’t such a good idea. In fact, he was sure it wasn’t. Brian’s plate was more than full each day at the office since business for Kinnetik had started booming. Had it really only been three weeks ago that they’d celebrated that success at the launch party with all their family and friends, Kinnetik’s clients and its employees? It felt like that was ages ago now. Everyone had been so happy and excited, high on all that was good about life and flush with the enjoyment of Brian’s triumph. But then everything had changed. Vic had died. Debbie had hit Brian and thrown him out of her house for what he’d said afterward. Their family was in mourning, grieving, hurting, and divided.
And now this.
Justin swallowed hard against the nausea rising in his throat and ducked into the men’s room to compose himself. He had to get a grip. He wasn’t going to cry like some little faggot when he told Brian. He washed his hands and splashed some cold water on his face, dried off with a handful of paper towels, and then clenched the damp paper in his fist. He should just go. Leave. Walk back to the loft and wait for Brian to get home. Calm down and then go online, do some research, and be more prepared to answer the questions Brian was probably going to have when he told him.
But Justin had a shift at the diner tonight. Debbie still wasn’t back to work since Vic’s death and they were all pulling extra shifts to cover for her. And Justin knew Brian wouldn’t be home until late. Possibly not until he’d already left for work. Even if he made it home before that, it wouldn’t be with enough time to discuss something this serious before Justin would have to go. And Justin needed to tell Brian what was going on. The sooner, the better. He knew Brian had noticed his distance the past few days but hoped he just chalked it up to Justin being tired from working extra shifts or bitterness over losing the Ibiza vs. school bet. He’d stayed at the apartment with Daphne the last few nights, knowing that if he’d spend too much time around Brian he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from confessing what was going on. Daphne had just shrugged off Justin’s presence and mood, no doubt figuring he and Brian were arguing about something that would be resolved soon enough. Shit… Daphne. How was he going to tell her? What was he going to say? It was hard enough just trying to wrap his mind around how he was going to tell Brian. Justin couldn’t even comprehend telling anyone else right now. What about his mom? And Debbie? God, they were going to be devastated. Fuck.
Okay. Focus on one person at a time. Brian. Now. Waiting wasn’t going to make it any easier. Decision made, Justin nodded once, took deep breath, and squared his shoulders before tossing the paper towels into the trash and walking back out of the restroom. He gave a little wave as he walked past Cynthia’s desk and pushed open the door to Brian’s office.
Brian was on the phone. He spared Justin a brief glance of acknowledgement before turning back to his computer screen and continuing the call. Justin made his way over to the sofa and flopped down on it. Great, more waiting. He nudged a couple of boards on the coffee table out of the way with the toe of his shoe and propped his feet up. Brian had clearly been working on the sofa before his call. Layouts, boards, sketches, and various trade magazines littered the table. Justin sighed and leaned his head back, shutting his eyes. He folded his hands on his stomach and focused on just slowly breathing, and calming his heart rate as he wracked his mind, trying to come up with some way of breaking the news.
Justin was vaguely aware of hearing Brian wrap up his phone conversation, then the sound of his new Prada shoes crossing the floor as Brian walked over to join him on the sofa.
“What?” Brian laughed as he sat down at the opposite end and reached for a pen and the papers he’d been perusing before the call. “Long day already?” He stretched out one leg and kicked Justin’s feet off the coffee table. Justin sighed and sat up, opening his eyes.
“Yeah,” Justin said, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Brian yet, focusing instead on a smudge of dirt on the toe of his tennis shoe. How the fuck do I say this? How do I even bring it up?
“You get registered?” Brian asked, flipping a page in the document he was reading and scribbling his signature at the bottom.
Justin sat up straight as relief washed through him. He almost laughed because there really wasn’t anything to be relieved about. Nothing had changed. But Brian had given him an opening, a place to start.
“Actually, that’s not where I went this morning,” he said, turning slightly to face Brian.
“It’s not? You said you were going to the registrar’s and then to the bookstore. I gave you my credit card to pay for your books,” Brian reminded him, one eyebrow raised.
“I know. Actually, here you go,” Justin said, pulling out his wallet and sliding Brian’s platinum Visa Card from it’s slot. He held it out to him but Brian made no move to take it. “I’m not going to be needing it,” Justin explained.
“Why the fuck not?” Brian asked.
“Because I’m not going to be taking any classes this term after all.”
“You said they agreed to reinstate you.” Brian still hadn’t reached for the card so Justin finally leaned over and set it down on the coffee table.
“They did.”
“Then I’m still waiting. We had a deal, Justin,” Brian’s voice took on a warning tone.
“I know. And I had every intention of going to the school today and registering. But I had an appointment I had to go to first.” This was it. No turning back now.
“What kind of appointment?” Brian asked, clearly growing tired of having to pry the information out of Justin a little bit at a time.
“A doctor’s appointment,” Justin said, meeting Brian’s gaze levelly.
Brian paused. “A doctor’s appointment,” he repeated, leaning forward to set down his pen and papers. He cleared his throat before turning to face Justin. “Are you going to tell me what for or are we going to keep playing Twenty Questions?” The words came out sounding harsh, but Justin knew it was just Brian’s way of trying to cover up how nervous he suddenly was. He didn’t like being caught off guard.
Justin took one more deep breath and drove ahead. “Last week, I was in the shower one morning and I found a lump on my left testicle. I called my doctor and made an appointment. I saw him on Friday. He referred me to a urologist. That’s who I saw this morning. He did an ultrasound scan of the lump and it’s not a cyst. It’s a solid mass. Most likely a seminoma, the most common form of testicular cancer.”
Brian stared at him blankly for a moment before closing his eyes and bringing his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. Then he dropped his hand and opened his eyes again, looking at Justin, an unreadable expression on his face. “Testicular… you have cancer?”
Justin nodded. “Probably. Like 95% sure.”
Brian swallowed hard. “How do they get 100% sure?”
Justin winced and looked down at his hands. It was hard enough to hear the doctor say it and to know he was going to have to go through it. But to tell Brian…
“I have to have surgery… to remove the testicle. Then they can biopsy it and tell me for sure.”
“Christ,” Brian said, standing up abruptly and stalking away from the sofa. “Can’t they just do a biopsy without taking it out? That seems pretty extreme.”
“Apparently, if they cut into the testicle while it’s still in my body, if it is cancer that can cause it to spread if it hasn’t already. And since they’re almost positive from the scan that it is cancer, this is the safest way.” Justin rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. So far this was going about how he expected. Though he’d thought maybe once he’d told someone else he might feel a little relieved or something, since it would no longer be just his secret. But he didn’t.
Brian’s shoulders slumped at Justin’s words. “That figures,” he sighed. He turned around to face Justin. Justin met his gaze for a moment before he felt the telltale sting of tears filling his eyes and he squeezed them shut. Shit. He wasn’t going to cry. Not here. Not right now. Not in front of Brian. He needed to keep it together. He needed to be strong. He needed…
“Hey.” Brian was suddenly there next to him, pulling him into his arms. “Justin…”
It was all he said but it was enough. Justin squeezed him back hard and drew in a big, shuddery breath before pushing himself gently out of Brian’s embrace. “The doctor said I should be fine. If it’s a seminoma and we caught it early, my odds of a full recovery are 99%. I don’t think they really give out better odds than that when you’re dealing with cancer.”
Brian nodded, his hand on the back of Justin’s neck. “Follow-up treatment?”
“Probably radiation, if it’s a seminoma and Stage I or II. If it’s the other type, a nonseminoma, or it’s Stage III I could need chemo. But it’s probably a seminoma and since I found the lump myself before I had any other symptoms, it probably hasn’t spread.” Justin was sure Brian’s head was reeling, just as his own had been when the urologist sprang all this information on him less than two hours ago. He couldn’t really bring himself to think or what the words really meant at the moment. He just repeated them for Brian’s benefit. This was what he knew right now. It was all he had to offer. It was all that he could really deal with.
“Okay,” Brian sighed, pulling Justin closer again. He pressed his lips to Justin’s temple and breathed in his scent. “Okay… So what do we do next?”
Justin pressed his face into Brian’s shoulder and let out a breath he felt like he’d been holding since he walked into the urologist’s office. There. There was that little hint of relief at last. He was no longer in this alone.
TBC