Ordinary, chapter 24
summary: Ian is diagnosed with cancer. In this chapter, Ian and Kris discuss his secret.
warnings: sadness and foul language
rating: pg-13
Ordinary, chapter twenty four
Ian sat quietly in the waiting room, twisting his hands nervously in his lap. Since his appointment with Marrow on Friday, and his inability to run a block on Saturday, he had a lot on his mind, a lot he wanted to talk to Kris about.
Ruby called him in, and he gave her a polite nod, shuffling quickly into Kris' office. Kris, already sitting in his chair, looked up at his entering patient and smiled.
"Good afternoon, Ian!" Kris boomed, and Ian couldn't help but smile in return as he inspected the older man's attire. The office, usually warmer than the air outside, was still finely heated, even in June, creating a cozy, homely feeling. Kris, over the months, had moved from jackets and sweater vests, to long-sleeve button ups, and was now wearing a tacky Hawaiian shirt with his trousers and dress shoes. He laughed lightly and sat down.
"I really love your shirt, Kris." Ian said, and Kris' smile grew wider.
"Thank you, m'boy! I start to wear these when it gets hot. My wife used to love them." Ian was about to ask about Kris' wife, but saw a pained nostalgia in his eyes, and allowed the old man to quickly change the subject. "So, Ian, how are you?"
"Not so well. Or, actually, really well, considering." Ian said, confusing him. He elaborated. "I saw Marrow the other day, and he told me I have until July, which is longer than I originally thought. And, like, I'm relieved I have more time, but I'm really worried that I won't be able to keep it a secret anymore. I-I think I might have to tell Anthony."
Kris nodded and considered the situation. "Well, Ian, from the beginning, we established that you didn't want anyone to be in pain over it, and that you couldn't live that long with people treating you that way. Did you know, when you decided this, how long you would wait to tell him?"
Ian shook his head. "I just thought, 'oh, I'll tell him later,' and just didn't think about it any more than that. It was always too painful to think about, so I just pushed it away. Now, though, I don't know what to do."
Kris hesitated. "I know, Ian, that you wanted to avoid pain, for everyone. But maybe you ought to consider telling your friend the truth."
"I am considering it, though." Ian began seriously. "I've been thinking about it since Friday, when I saw Marrow, and then on Saturday, when-" He stopped, unsure, but continued upon Kris' encouraging look. "I-I couldn't run around the block. I've done track since seventh grade, I used to run nearly every day, and now...it's just showing me how weak I'm getting. I honestly don't know if I can show up on set every day like this, and not have him point it out. He's bound to notice."
"Well, do you know anything of your condition in the future? How weak could you be getting?" Kris asked in a caring tone.
"I don't know. I just know I have a month. One month. And if I feel like this now, how will I feel then? The same, or even worse? When will I have to spend my days in a hospital bed?" Ian stared at him, questioning in almost a panic, and took a deep breath, calming himself. "I mean, I look normal when I'm doing normal stuff, but I do a lot of work on set. What if it's too much?" Tears pricked his eyes, but he paid no attention to them.
"But you've told Anthony you have low blood pressure." Kris recalled. "Surely you could use this as an excuse to ease your workload."
"I could." Ian mused, eyes still glistening. "But I don't know if I could look him in the eyes."
"No, you don't. But if you stay strong, you probably can. As horrific as it is, people's strength is often used to hide their emotions." Kris said, shaking his head. Ian sat silent for a moment.
"The way I think of it, though..." Ian said slowly. "Is that, on one hand, I can tell Anthony, and he could get mad, or he could cry, or he could pity me. Or do all that, and more. Or, on the other hand, I never tell him. I never have to see that pain. I can die without seeing him knowing."
Kris thought for a moment. "I believe it was the end of March when you confided in me that you wanted to know what would happen after your passing. At the time, I asked you to accept that you cannot know, and move on, which still applies here, you may not be aware of the world after your passing. But you have the option of knowing your friend's reaction to your death. Would you still like to see, Ian? Would you still like to know?"
Ian stared at him, mind racing. Did he want to see? Did he truly want to look at Anthony, and tell him he was dying of cancer, and witness that reaction? He thought he couldn't see his friend hurt, but was he curious enough to tell in advance?
He thought back to the pain of the previous month, the fainting that had shook Anthony to his core. He had drove Ian to the hospital in tears, and had been in a fragile state for days after. Ian had sworn, then, that he could never tell his friend, never see pain grace his features like that again, but what if pain was the best decision for him? There was good pain- was this that kind of pain? A pain that could possibly help Anthony after he was gone? Or was it just hurting him too early?
Ian, after a long moment, shook his head. "I can't. I can't see him in pain like that. I'm a coward." He mumbled.
"No, Ian, you're not a coward." Kris leaned in reassuringly. "You're making a choice, one based on fear, thought, and feeling. Cowardice is nothing compared to what we're doing now; you're brave enough to sit with me, you're brave enough to live life as usual, you're brave enough to keep secrets, and you're brave enough to stay strong, stronger than most men I've known. You are no coward."
Ian sniffled, and a tear released itself from his left eye, and fell quickly down his face. "Thanks, Kris. But-but this decision- I-I don't know what to do. But I don't think I can tell him."
"Why not?" Kris asked the simple question, as he watched this man start to break in front of him. Ian's eyes were full of tears and red-rimmed, his nose tipped red and nearly dripping, a frown heavy on his face. His hands were twisting in his lap, worse than ever before, for he was so nervous, so unsure.
"I can't." Ian said once again, softly, shaking his head.
"Do you love him?" Kris stared at him, although he already knew the answer.
"Yes. Of course. He's-he's my best friend." Another tear dropped from his eye as he muttered his response.
"My boy." He heard his therapist's soft voice. "Do you love him?" He emphasized it, and Ian nodded as two more tears fell. He shook, trying to control himself.
He really did love him. Since high school, since he thought he had a small crush, since he tried to give up loving him for the sake of his reputation. Since he didn't experiment, even though he was confused. Since he forced himself to be with girls, and force any feelings towards him but friendship away. Since he tried to just settle for Mel. Since he found out he had cancer.
All that time was spent loving him. Loving being with him, laughing with him, working with him. Loving his hair and his smile, loving his teasing and his jokes, loving him with every fiber of his being. And he had been so ignorant with that. He had told himself they were only friends, he had told himself he had Mel, that she was the love of his life. He had told himself everything was great, and never took the risk with Anthony, and then he found out he was about to die. Maybe the life lesson there would be to take risks, to act on your feelings, but Ian couldn't go back in time and change things. Now, all he could do was decide between not taking the risk, as he had done so long ago, or tell him, tell his best friend, that he was leaving.
But it wasn't just that. It was protection. He couldn't protect Anthony from the pain that would come from this. And eventually, pain would come, but if he didn't tell, he could keep it at bay for awhile. And that's what he did in high school, right? Give him up to protect him from the pain? History does repeat itself, but should it? He could just say it, just confess to the disease, and hurt Anthony, but maybe the pain would be for the best. Or maybe it would destroy him.
Ian eventually regained control over his body, and looked up at Kris, a few tears dampening his face. When he spoke, his voice shook. "I don't know what to do." And he'd never been so lost.
Kris could only look at him, grimly. Hand on his chin, the old man eyed the younger, trying to find the right words. "I cannot chose for you, Ian." he finally managed. "But I can ask you to consider it. You still have time, you know, you can still consider. Take a week. One week. You can decide to tell him, or you can decide to hide it. Or tell him next week, or the week after that. Just think about it."
Ian managed a nod, and a sigh, and let Kris silently put his hand on his arm, assuming the old man was only sympathetic, not understanding. Did he know hidden love? Did he know the spark in his stomach when he saw his loved one's smile? Did he know the grin that would form on his face the moment he heard his loved one's laugh? Did he know how everything felt more real, more vivid, more bright, when he was with his love? Ian was sure he couldn't. Couldn't know the secret glee of playing around with him, the blessed joy of seeing him work hard, or focus on a task, and see him become completely absorbed, until Ian spoke, and then all attention would be on him.
What they had was love. Old fashioned, romantic comedy style love. Friends meant for each other. Beautiful people with seemingly beautiful lives, going places and doing things, and working and moving and climbing, pushing through this weird jumble of art they call life, and just being together. Being together, that was all they needed. But Ian knew they wouldn't be together soon. And he had to choose- for the sake of himself, Anthony, Smosh, his fans, and for love- whether or not to confess his cancer.
But he would not confess his feelings. No. He could not. Anthony was in love with Kalel, and he wasn't going to ruin that. Not when he had no time to be with Anthony properly, not when they could only be together when one was in a hospital bed. Or worse, Anthony might hate him, and he would die alone, without even the simple bond of friendship. No, he would carry that love with him to the grave, held tightly to his chest.
But through all of these complications, through all of these nonexistent actions and unspoken words, Ian was certain: he had to decide. There was no other way.
warnings: sadness and foul language
rating: pg-13
Ordinary, chapter twenty four
Ian sat quietly in the waiting room, twisting his hands nervously in his lap. Since his appointment with Marrow on Friday, and his inability to run a block on Saturday, he had a lot on his mind, a lot he wanted to talk to Kris about.
Ruby called him in, and he gave her a polite nod, shuffling quickly into Kris' office. Kris, already sitting in his chair, looked up at his entering patient and smiled.
"Good afternoon, Ian!" Kris boomed, and Ian couldn't help but smile in return as he inspected the older man's attire. The office, usually warmer than the air outside, was still finely heated, even in June, creating a cozy, homely feeling. Kris, over the months, had moved from jackets and sweater vests, to long-sleeve button ups, and was now wearing a tacky Hawaiian shirt with his trousers and dress shoes. He laughed lightly and sat down.
"I really love your shirt, Kris." Ian said, and Kris' smile grew wider.
"Thank you, m'boy! I start to wear these when it gets hot. My wife used to love them." Ian was about to ask about Kris' wife, but saw a pained nostalgia in his eyes, and allowed the old man to quickly change the subject. "So, Ian, how are you?"
"Not so well. Or, actually, really well, considering." Ian said, confusing him. He elaborated. "I saw Marrow the other day, and he told me I have until July, which is longer than I originally thought. And, like, I'm relieved I have more time, but I'm really worried that I won't be able to keep it a secret anymore. I-I think I might have to tell Anthony."
Kris nodded and considered the situation. "Well, Ian, from the beginning, we established that you didn't want anyone to be in pain over it, and that you couldn't live that long with people treating you that way. Did you know, when you decided this, how long you would wait to tell him?"
Ian shook his head. "I just thought, 'oh, I'll tell him later,' and just didn't think about it any more than that. It was always too painful to think about, so I just pushed it away. Now, though, I don't know what to do."
Kris hesitated. "I know, Ian, that you wanted to avoid pain, for everyone. But maybe you ought to consider telling your friend the truth."
"I am considering it, though." Ian began seriously. "I've been thinking about it since Friday, when I saw Marrow, and then on Saturday, when-" He stopped, unsure, but continued upon Kris' encouraging look. "I-I couldn't run around the block. I've done track since seventh grade, I used to run nearly every day, and now...it's just showing me how weak I'm getting. I honestly don't know if I can show up on set every day like this, and not have him point it out. He's bound to notice."
"Well, do you know anything of your condition in the future? How weak could you be getting?" Kris asked in a caring tone.
"I don't know. I just know I have a month. One month. And if I feel like this now, how will I feel then? The same, or even worse? When will I have to spend my days in a hospital bed?" Ian stared at him, questioning in almost a panic, and took a deep breath, calming himself. "I mean, I look normal when I'm doing normal stuff, but I do a lot of work on set. What if it's too much?" Tears pricked his eyes, but he paid no attention to them.
"But you've told Anthony you have low blood pressure." Kris recalled. "Surely you could use this as an excuse to ease your workload."
"I could." Ian mused, eyes still glistening. "But I don't know if I could look him in the eyes."
"No, you don't. But if you stay strong, you probably can. As horrific as it is, people's strength is often used to hide their emotions." Kris said, shaking his head. Ian sat silent for a moment.
"The way I think of it, though..." Ian said slowly. "Is that, on one hand, I can tell Anthony, and he could get mad, or he could cry, or he could pity me. Or do all that, and more. Or, on the other hand, I never tell him. I never have to see that pain. I can die without seeing him knowing."
Kris thought for a moment. "I believe it was the end of March when you confided in me that you wanted to know what would happen after your passing. At the time, I asked you to accept that you cannot know, and move on, which still applies here, you may not be aware of the world after your passing. But you have the option of knowing your friend's reaction to your death. Would you still like to see, Ian? Would you still like to know?"
Ian stared at him, mind racing. Did he want to see? Did he truly want to look at Anthony, and tell him he was dying of cancer, and witness that reaction? He thought he couldn't see his friend hurt, but was he curious enough to tell in advance?
He thought back to the pain of the previous month, the fainting that had shook Anthony to his core. He had drove Ian to the hospital in tears, and had been in a fragile state for days after. Ian had sworn, then, that he could never tell his friend, never see pain grace his features like that again, but what if pain was the best decision for him? There was good pain- was this that kind of pain? A pain that could possibly help Anthony after he was gone? Or was it just hurting him too early?
Ian, after a long moment, shook his head. "I can't. I can't see him in pain like that. I'm a coward." He mumbled.
"No, Ian, you're not a coward." Kris leaned in reassuringly. "You're making a choice, one based on fear, thought, and feeling. Cowardice is nothing compared to what we're doing now; you're brave enough to sit with me, you're brave enough to live life as usual, you're brave enough to keep secrets, and you're brave enough to stay strong, stronger than most men I've known. You are no coward."
Ian sniffled, and a tear released itself from his left eye, and fell quickly down his face. "Thanks, Kris. But-but this decision- I-I don't know what to do. But I don't think I can tell him."
"Why not?" Kris asked the simple question, as he watched this man start to break in front of him. Ian's eyes were full of tears and red-rimmed, his nose tipped red and nearly dripping, a frown heavy on his face. His hands were twisting in his lap, worse than ever before, for he was so nervous, so unsure.
"I can't." Ian said once again, softly, shaking his head.
"Do you love him?" Kris stared at him, although he already knew the answer.
"Yes. Of course. He's-he's my best friend." Another tear dropped from his eye as he muttered his response.
"My boy." He heard his therapist's soft voice. "Do you love him?" He emphasized it, and Ian nodded as two more tears fell. He shook, trying to control himself.
He really did love him. Since high school, since he thought he had a small crush, since he tried to give up loving him for the sake of his reputation. Since he didn't experiment, even though he was confused. Since he forced himself to be with girls, and force any feelings towards him but friendship away. Since he tried to just settle for Mel. Since he found out he had cancer.
All that time was spent loving him. Loving being with him, laughing with him, working with him. Loving his hair and his smile, loving his teasing and his jokes, loving him with every fiber of his being. And he had been so ignorant with that. He had told himself they were only friends, he had told himself he had Mel, that she was the love of his life. He had told himself everything was great, and never took the risk with Anthony, and then he found out he was about to die. Maybe the life lesson there would be to take risks, to act on your feelings, but Ian couldn't go back in time and change things. Now, all he could do was decide between not taking the risk, as he had done so long ago, or tell him, tell his best friend, that he was leaving.
But it wasn't just that. It was protection. He couldn't protect Anthony from the pain that would come from this. And eventually, pain would come, but if he didn't tell, he could keep it at bay for awhile. And that's what he did in high school, right? Give him up to protect him from the pain? History does repeat itself, but should it? He could just say it, just confess to the disease, and hurt Anthony, but maybe the pain would be for the best. Or maybe it would destroy him.
Ian eventually regained control over his body, and looked up at Kris, a few tears dampening his face. When he spoke, his voice shook. "I don't know what to do." And he'd never been so lost.
Kris could only look at him, grimly. Hand on his chin, the old man eyed the younger, trying to find the right words. "I cannot chose for you, Ian." he finally managed. "But I can ask you to consider it. You still have time, you know, you can still consider. Take a week. One week. You can decide to tell him, or you can decide to hide it. Or tell him next week, or the week after that. Just think about it."
Ian managed a nod, and a sigh, and let Kris silently put his hand on his arm, assuming the old man was only sympathetic, not understanding. Did he know hidden love? Did he know the spark in his stomach when he saw his loved one's smile? Did he know the grin that would form on his face the moment he heard his loved one's laugh? Did he know how everything felt more real, more vivid, more bright, when he was with his love? Ian was sure he couldn't. Couldn't know the secret glee of playing around with him, the blessed joy of seeing him work hard, or focus on a task, and see him become completely absorbed, until Ian spoke, and then all attention would be on him.
What they had was love. Old fashioned, romantic comedy style love. Friends meant for each other. Beautiful people with seemingly beautiful lives, going places and doing things, and working and moving and climbing, pushing through this weird jumble of art they call life, and just being together. Being together, that was all they needed. But Ian knew they wouldn't be together soon. And he had to choose- for the sake of himself, Anthony, Smosh, his fans, and for love- whether or not to confess his cancer.
But he would not confess his feelings. No. He could not. Anthony was in love with Kalel, and he wasn't going to ruin that. Not when he had no time to be with Anthony properly, not when they could only be together when one was in a hospital bed. Or worse, Anthony might hate him, and he would die alone, without even the simple bond of friendship. No, he would carry that love with him to the grave, held tightly to his chest.
But through all of these complications, through all of these nonexistent actions and unspoken words, Ian was certain: he had to decide. There was no other way.