Chapter Text
Daeron stared at the paper in front of him, the clinical white walls closing in around him, even the incessant beeping was only an afterthought compared to what he was seeing in front of him.
The doctor's voice sounded far away, as if underneath water. He blinked a few more times before feeling his tether to reality strengthen, as he stared up at the elderly man who looked at him with something close to pity.
“I’m sorry, could you repeat what you just said?”
“I was explaining the treatment options available to you. I think it would be best if you went home to sort out your thoughts and then came back tomorrow. An early appointment, say, 8am would be best. We could talk about your options then.”
Daeron nodded numbly, his feet mechanically leading him out of the hospital building, all the way outside where his best (only) friend Duncan Talls was leaning against the wall. He was dressed in his usual faded jeans and an old rugby jersey covered by a jacket. His glasses, always held together with tape, were perched upon his nose covering the blue eyes. Those eyes momentarily brightened upon seeing Daeron’s face, then broke when he saw the haunted expression he must have been wearing.
Before Duncan could say anything, Daeron shook his head, asking to be taken back to their shared dorm before saying nothing else. Duncan, always a loyal friend, didn’t question it. He simply started the car and drove.
Not for the first time since he had started university around 4 months ago, Daeron was pleased he had changed his emergency contacts from his family to Duncan. If his family was here right now….he definitely would not have been able to think.
They made their way back to the dorm, Daeron ignoring other students in the building who had called out greetings, leaving Duncan to apologize on his behalf as he always did.
He entered their room, his bed being somewhat clean while the rest of his side was in disarray, accurately reflecting his state of mind. Duncan of course, ever the model scholarship student, had everything neat and tidy on his side. They obviously chose to sit on his bed, the sheets smelling like fresh laundry.
Silence stretched on, as Daeron fiddled with the buttons of his jacket. It was getting colder, he would have to dig out his winter clothes soon. Assuming he made it that far of course. He snorted involuntarily, thinking of all the times he had told his father he would rather die than go outside in the snow. Maybe now he will get his wish.
He felt Duncan’s gaze on him, knowing his friend would not pry. He did not pry when he realized he was assigned a dorm with a Targaryen, who, by all accounts should have been able to afford a single room or even a private apartment not too far from campus. He did not pry when he realized that Daeron was 20 and still taking first year classes. He did not pry when he heard Daeron’s screams at night that had only gotten worse in the past month. He did not pry when he heard him on the phone, exchanging scathing remarks with his father and gentle inquiries with his youngest siblings. Duncan did not pry. He looked very close to it now though. Daeron decided to spare him.
“I got my test results back.” He began, unsure of how to proceed. He thought back to that day, the sudden blankness he had felt, collapsing like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Waking up in the emergency room and telling them that this was expected, he had just not had an episode in years. Yes his mother also had suffered from the same disorder. Yes he felt safe to go home. No, they did not need to call his father, Duncan was his emergency contact and would suffice.
The doctor had insisted though, a sharp eyed woman whose hair was dark brown with pink highlights. Just one scan she had said, I know you did them in your childhood but now would be a good time for a repeat.
Daeron had agreed, mainly to stop her from looking like she saw him for what he truly was. Of course, NHS funding could only go so far and he was told to expect a phone call with a follow up appointment depending on the urgency.
Daeorn knew not to expect good news when he was called less than 48 hours later.
“Cancer. I have cancer.” He blurted out, unsure of how else to say it. He was 20 years old, and had cancer. Just great. “A brain tumor to be precise. Not sure what else, I left before we could discuss anything else.”
Daeron continued to stare at the wall, his band posters mixing with Duncan’s rugby ones making an odd but familiar sight. He didn’t turn to look at his friend, until he emitted a strange sound.
Daeron’s head whipped around as he stared at Duncan before realizing the man was trying to not cry. Daeron did not cry when he heard the news, he was not about to start now.
He reached out and awkwardly patted his shoulder, more used to comforting his little siblings than a boy his own age. His touch seemed to bring Duncan back to reality, the man's gaze sharpening.
“It’s a stupid question, I know, but how do you feel now?”
Daeron smiled despite the agreement in his head that, yes, it indeed was a stupid question. “I don’t really feel much. I wasn’t expecting good news, more of the same as my childhood. Oh all your tests are normal, we don't know why you’re hallucinating and having night terrors.” he tried to joke but his voice took on a sharper edge that he did not want to analyze.
Duncan sighed, clearly looking out of his depth but not willing to show it. He moved quickly, before Daeron could protest, enveloping the smaller boy in a hug.
Daeron swallowed thickly, unable to remember the last time someone had hugged him like this. His arms shook as he reached up and returned it. He did not know how long he sat there, trembling slightly in Duncan’s arms, but they both did not move.
Several minutes or hours later, they broke apart as a chime rang from his phone. Daeron glanced at the message, his stomach feeling suddenly heavy when he realized it was a message reminding him of his appointment tomorrow. Suddenly, he felt out of his depth.
Duncan saw the look in his eyes before slowly speaking. “I know…I know that you prefer to do things alone, but I don’t mind going with you, if you would like.”
Daeron mulled it over. On one hand, he knew that going with someone who would be able to keep track of everything would be a good idea, on the other hand, he also knew that right now he was not thinking too deeply about everything and did not want Duncan to see him well and truly broken.
Duncan was kind, too kind for the poison he could feel under the surface of his skin. He needed someone who would be able to bear that poison, someone used to it.
Daeron shook his head, giving his friend a small smile. “Don’t worry about me. I think I need to do this alone. Thank you, though, for offering. I will let you know what happens.”
Duncan nodded, the promise seeming to settle some of his nerves. “Anything you need, I will help with. I promise.” Duncan always kept his promises.
Daeron clapped him on the shoulder. “I appreciate that, my friend. Now it is time for you to go to your practice or I'm afraid your coach might request a room change if I make you late one more time.”
Duncan left reluctantly, probably afraid of what damage Daeron could do to himself if left alone with his thoughts. Before he could consider pulling out the stash of alcohol kept under his bed, his phone rang.
The name showed his youngest brother, who of course would be calling right about now for his weekly phone call with Daeron.
Daeron knew, he knew he shouldn’t ignore his little brother. He had never once missed a phone call from Aegon but right now, with Duncan gone, his tether to reality was slowly slipping.
He hoped Aegon would forgive him, watching how after the third call came, Aegon seemed to have finally given up. Daeron nodded to himself, that was good. He would probably have to get used to it soon regardless.
The thought suddenly made his heart lurch. He did not want to think about this much longer, yet the more time he spent looking at the bottles waiting for him, the more enticing they looked.
Daeron picked one up, and did not remember much more after that.
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The next morning, Daeron stood in front of the hospital building once more. Only this time, it was with a horrible feeling of nausea and without Duncan’s steady presence by his side. Unfortunately, he knew the feeling of denial was slowly leaving him and he knew this was about to be a long day.
He walked in, the nurse leading him to the room quickly. After a quick check of his temperature and height and weight, which Daeron felt was unnecessary seeing as they did that only yesterday, she led him to the doctor’s office.
The doctor greeted him, before asking if he was sure he wanted to listen to this alone. Daeron knew, he knew he should call Duncan or anyone else to come sit with him but he couldn’t bring himself to. There was no need to burden others with what was about to be a long and arduous conversation.
The doctor sighed, before beginning to speak. Daeron shrugged off the first part of condolences and other platitudes the man probably said hundreds of times before. He then listened to words that he did not know the meaning of, realizing he should probably take notes but unable to bring himself to open his notes app on his phone.
Something the doctor said caught his ears though and he froze.
“What do you mean, previously there?”
The doctor paused, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “As i said, a tumor of this size needs time to grow. I know you have previously done head scans before and while technology was not the best a decade ago regarding that, it was still good enough. I wanted to access our old records with your permission to have a specialist review them and see if there was something missed.”
Daeron felt this new information wash over him. His body felt cold with the realization that….maybe he didn’t have to have suffered all these years. Maybe if this had been found earlier….
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “If you would like, I can give you my permission. But will it change anything now?”
The doctor shook his head. “No, it will maybe let us have a better idea of how fast it is growing, to help tailor the treatment, but nothing so immediate.”
They paused for a second, before going back to the long spiel of treatment options and what to do next. By the end of the hour, Daeron’s head was spinning and he had another appointment tomorrow for emergency surgery.
He kept his head down as he walked out of the building, knowing that he needed to clear his head. His feet made their way to the pitch, where he knew Duncan would just be finishing up.
Duncan smiled when he saw him, bidding his friend Raymun farewell as he ran to Daeron. “How did it go?”
Daeron shrugged as they walked towards the dorms. “They don’t know anything for sure yet. Apparently I have to do some needle collection tomorrow to take a piece of it out so they can like…examine it more? I asked why they can’t take the whole thing out but apparently that's not how it works. Why is that not how it works? I mean….can’t it just be that simple? Of course not! Nothing is ever that simple for me because apparently I’m just that lucky that the whole thing is in a location that they can’t operate on and just solve all my problems. Why! Why can’t I ever be that lucky?”
Daeron’s emotions were going haywire, finally reaching the tipping point. He knew he would get there eventually. His chest hurt and he knew that people were giving them a wide berth, probably not used to seeing him sobbing, at least not while sober. He couldn’t catch his breath, ever thankful that Duncan was there to steady him and glower at anyone who tried to stare.
Eventually they made their way up to the dorm room. Daeron had quieted to siled sobs, unable to do more than collapse on his bed where he stayed for the rest of the day. Duncan, ever the loyal friend, sat with him between his classes, both holding their breath until tomorrow.
A week later, after the needle removal that had made his head hurt more and his drinking even worse, he finally had his results. Duncan had insisted on being there this time, Daeron was glad because he knew his nerves were too high to be able to absorb anything being said. Google was definitely not his friend, giving him way too many scenarios only adding to his nightmares.
The doctor seemed to be pleased he had brought a friend, Daeron was also pleased because Duncan was taking notes like he always did in class and asking questions Daeron wouldn’t have even begun to think of.
“Any further questions, gentlemen?” The doctor asked at the end of the hour.
“Just to make sure I got this straight, he’s going to have to do four months of chemotherapy and then after that another scan. And then possibly more chemotherapy or using radiation to make it shrink to a size that can be safely removed?” Duncan asked.
The doctor nodded. “I would like to get started as soon as possible, you will have to be admitted for the first month as we need to monitor you to make sure there are no side effects or bad reactions. Today is friday, so we shall expect you here on monday where we will insert the large IV for the drugs. It shall be inserted just above the neck and we shall teach you how to care for it at home. I suggest you use this weekend to sort out your absence from university and to speak to anyone else you may need to speak to.”
Daeron and Duncan thanked the doctor before walking out. Daeron sighed, wanting nothing more than to go home and curl in his bed forgetting the world. He knew what he had to do though.
“Thanks for coming with me. I need to do this next part alone though.”
Duncan tilted his head. “Next part?”
Daeron smiled faintly, already knowing he was going to end the night seriously pissed off. “It’s Friday, time to go to my first family dinner in 6 months.”