In between, Part 3 (Cancer Fic)
Apr. 17th, 2011 09:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
soulmatejunkeeTitle: In Between, Part 3/20
Author:soulmatejunkee
Fandom: Queer as Folk US
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Timeline: What happened between episode 4.09 and 4.10 (POV’s). It starts right after "Eat some fucking chicken soup"
Word Count: 400 words (drabbles)
Summary: I am writing on it since weeks, so I just thought, maybe I should start posting it
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. It's all CowLip and Showtime.
A/N: Beta byqafkinnetik - thanks a lot. Every comment is welcome. Let me know what you think. Thanks!
1 | 2 |
Author:
soulmatejunkee Fandom: Queer as Folk US
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Timeline: What happened between episode 4.09 and 4.10 (POV’s). It starts right after "Eat some fucking chicken soup"
Word Count: 400 words (drabbles)
Summary: I am writing on it since weeks, so I just thought, maybe I should start posting it
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. It's all CowLip and Showtime.
A/N: Beta by
qafkinnetik - thanks a lot. Every comment is welcome. Let me know what you think. Thanks! 1 | 2 |
Brian's POV
1)
I crawled onto the bed and waited. I knew he meant what he said, I had to eat that fucking chicken soup. I wasn’t hungry; I was thankful that I hadn’t vomited so far today. I also had no idea why everyone seemed to want me to eat fucking chicken soup. First Michael, then Cynthia when she assumed I might get a cold, and now Justin.
I didn’t have to wait very long before he came to the bed with the chicken soup. He sat down beside me and placed the plate on the nightstand. Then he looked at me.
2)
"Give me the details“, he said. "And don’t leave anything out.“
I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to talk. For some reason, I don’t know, I wanted to hold his hand, or maybe I wanted him to hold my hand. I must have been really sick.
"Eight radiations, the first one is over so far“, I answered him. "Twice a week.“
He raised an eyebrow. "Huh? Yeah… just start with the part where you’re telling me that you’re going to be okay again. That they removed everything and that there aren’t any metastases? You know, the important stuff.“
3)
I don’t do cuddling, at least not when I am in control of my senses, but I was sick and I felt weak and he looked so anxious and it was my fault. So, out of guilt, I would’ve cuddled in that moment. I really fucked it up, I threw him out because I was afraid of my own weakness. I ignored his obvious concern about me. "I’ll be okay, with the radiation there’s no doubt. Ninety-nine percent chance of full recovery. They have to take blood tests every year, but… they said that I won’t die from this ball-losing-experience.“
4)
He nodded and seemed to relax, while my memories came back without failing. The hospital, the bashing… no one could’ve thrown me out of there before I knew he was going to be okay again. No one. But that’s what I did to him – more than once. He called, he came back and waited, he showed up at Kinnetik, but I never talked to him. And now I could see it, the disappointment, the hurt, the angst – in his blue eyes. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. I had no idea what he expected me to say.
5)
"Where is the radiation?“ he asked.
"At the hospital. They have an oncology center.“
He nodded again. His voice was totally callous, as if he just wanted to clear the facts. It felt unfamiliar. Sure, he was pissed at me, but normally he calms down faster. "Side effects?“
I looked at his hands; they lay on his thighs. He didn’t touch me, just sat there and looked me in the eyes. Why doesn’t he touch me? Because I’m weak? Because I’m sick? Because it’s disgusting for him? Every single thought was bullshit, but I never fail with misunderstandings, do I?
TBC
1)
I crawled onto the bed and waited. I knew he meant what he said, I had to eat that fucking chicken soup. I wasn’t hungry; I was thankful that I hadn’t vomited so far today. I also had no idea why everyone seemed to want me to eat fucking chicken soup. First Michael, then Cynthia when she assumed I might get a cold, and now Justin.
I didn’t have to wait very long before he came to the bed with the chicken soup. He sat down beside me and placed the plate on the nightstand. Then he looked at me.
2)
"Give me the details“, he said. "And don’t leave anything out.“
I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to talk. For some reason, I don’t know, I wanted to hold his hand, or maybe I wanted him to hold my hand. I must have been really sick.
"Eight radiations, the first one is over so far“, I answered him. "Twice a week.“
He raised an eyebrow. "Huh? Yeah… just start with the part where you’re telling me that you’re going to be okay again. That they removed everything and that there aren’t any metastases? You know, the important stuff.“
3)
I don’t do cuddling, at least not when I am in control of my senses, but I was sick and I felt weak and he looked so anxious and it was my fault. So, out of guilt, I would’ve cuddled in that moment. I really fucked it up, I threw him out because I was afraid of my own weakness. I ignored his obvious concern about me. "I’ll be okay, with the radiation there’s no doubt. Ninety-nine percent chance of full recovery. They have to take blood tests every year, but… they said that I won’t die from this ball-losing-experience.“
4)
He nodded and seemed to relax, while my memories came back without failing. The hospital, the bashing… no one could’ve thrown me out of there before I knew he was going to be okay again. No one. But that’s what I did to him – more than once. He called, he came back and waited, he showed up at Kinnetik, but I never talked to him. And now I could see it, the disappointment, the hurt, the angst – in his blue eyes. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. I had no idea what he expected me to say.
5)
"Where is the radiation?“ he asked.
"At the hospital. They have an oncology center.“
He nodded again. His voice was totally callous, as if he just wanted to clear the facts. It felt unfamiliar. Sure, he was pissed at me, but normally he calms down faster. "Side effects?“
I looked at his hands; they lay on his thighs. He didn’t touch me, just sat there and looked me in the eyes. Why doesn’t he touch me? Because I’m weak? Because I’m sick? Because it’s disgusting for him? Every single thought was bullshit, but I never fail with misunderstandings, do I?
TBC