Summary: The devastating illness and untimely passing of the family matriarch effects the gang in a profound way.
Special thanks to Kim (predec2) for the beautiful banner.
Categories: QAF-U.S. FICTION,
Angst,
Minor Character Death Characters: Ben, Brian, Carl, Debbie, Justin, Michael, Original Character(s)
Challenges: None
Series: None
Chapters: 9
Completed: No
Word count: 12757
Read: 38250
Published: February 27, 2018
Updated: August 16, 2018
1. Chapter 1 by Wildsweet_angel
2. Chapter 2 by Wildsweet_angel
3. Chapter 3 by Wildsweet_angel
4. Chapter 4 by Wildsweet_angel
5. Chapter 5 by Wildsweet_angel
6. Chapter 6 by Wildsweet_angel
7. Chapter 7 by Wildsweet_angel
8. Chapter 8 by Wildsweet_angel
9. Chapter 9 by Wildsweet_angel
Chapter 1 by Wildsweet_angel
Author's Notes:
This is my first story in a long time. I would appreciate feedback as to whether or not you think I should continue with it. Thanks
"What?" Debbie heard herself say. She wasn't quite processing the words coming from the doctor's mouth, or maybe it was because she didn't want to.
Carl gripped her hand tighter. He couldn't say a word, for he was frozen, in utter disbelief.
The doctor, who was expecting this initial reaction, calmly repeated himself.
"As I've said, Mr. and Mrs. Horvath, I'm afraid the tumor has irregular borders, which often indicates a malignancy."
Carl spoke up vehemently.
"You can't know that yet. Aren't there more tests to run?"
"Correct, Mr. Horvath. That's why I want to admit your wife to the hospital tomorrow morning to do a biopsy. That's the only way to ensure a proper diagnosis."
"Tomorrow?" Debbie quivered, still feeling like she was in the Twilight Zone.
"If it is cancerous, even the smallest delay can make a difference in treatment and prognosis," Dr. Sloan advised.
With the doctor's mention of the word, "cancer", it was finally sinking in. Debbie's eyes brimmed with tears. A look of panic spread over Carl's face, but he recovered quickly. He cleared his throat before speaking.
"We'll be there, doctor."
Carl guided his bride by the arm, knowing that she was still a bit shaky from the effect of the alarming discovery.
As they both walked out of the office, he immediately switched to protective mode. Carl reminded Debbie that she was young and healthy. And besides, he added, "The doctor could be mistaken, it's happened before."
Debbie was perfectly fine. Hell, she looked fine. Carl tried to convince himself, but there was still a nagging doubt, along with that knot in his stomach.
When they got home, Carl wanted to call Michael to come over, but Debbie had stopped him and blurted out a firm, "No".
"I don't want him to know. Don't you dare pick up that phone", she warned.
"But Deb..."
"Carl, we don't know for sure yet. I don't want to tell Michael anything until we find out. You know how he gets about every little thing, why should we worry him now?"
Carl relented with a sigh. He supposed she was right, Michael did tend to be overly dramatic.
The couple spent a sleepless night, tossing and turning. When the alarm went off at 6 a.m., they were both physically and emotionally exhausted.
Upon their arrival at the hospital, Carl reassured his wife that she would be okay. Debbie bowed her head and said a silent prayer as they prepped her to go in. Not wanting to add to her anxiety, Carl kissed her and smiled with all the strength he could muster.
"See you soon, Red."
A short time later, their worst fears were realized. The doctor confirmed that the mass was definitely cancerous. However, he could not, or would not provide them with a diagnosis as to the actual type of cancer. What he did divulge to them was that it looked like Debbie may have a very rare cancer. They were informed that he had already sent a sample of the biopsy to Brigham Women's Hospital in Boston, to get a second opinion.
Carl was devastated, but tried to be strong for his wife. He was annoyed that they couldn't identify the type of cancer, so they would know what they were up against, but it was good that they were already seeking a second opinion for he surely wanted one. And Brigham Hospital was one of the best.
Carl and Debbie returned to their home, both looking a little shell shocked. Everything was happening so fast, Debbie's head was spinning. She went to lay down. This time Carl picked up the phone and called Michael, without waiting for Debbie's approval. Not wanting to discuss it over the phone, he implored Michael to get to their house as quick as possible.
As he had expected, Michael questioned, "What the fuck's going on?"
Carl just said three words, "It's your mother..."
He heard a slam of the receiver and knew that Michael was already out the door and on his way.
Michael entered the two story brick house without even knocking, his face red and out of breath from sprinting. A concerned Ben followed close behind.
"Where's Ma?" he practically yelled, appearing close to hysterics.
Carl blocked him from going any further and raised his palm up, in an effort to slow him down.
"Whoa, Mike. She's resting." He sucked in a deep breath before adding, "Anyway, I need to tell you something first."
He proceeded to relay to Debbie's son and his husband the events of the past few days.
Michael's face blanched with the mention of cancer. Ben was right by his side, rubbing his back.
"Are they sure? Maybe they made a mistake?"
"I'm hoping too, but the doctor sounded pretty grim."
"Well, fuck the doctor! How could she be sick, I saw her a couple of days ago and she looked fine!"
Michael was getting all worked up.
"Michael, I asked you here to comfort your mother, not to make her more upset. If you don't think that you can do that, then you should leave."
"Why didn't you call me sooner?" Michael said accusingly.
"Because I asked him not to," Debbie interjected, as she came down the stairs.
"Ma, I could have..."
"You could have what? Could have panicked with me? Could have made me even more anxious?"
Michael put his head down, a little embarrassed.
"I just always want to be there for you. I'm your son, for fuck's sake." His voice quavering with emotion.
Debbie's voice softened. "I know, sweetheart. Now come here and give me a hug."
Michael walked over to her and fell into her arms. He sniffled, trying to hold his unshed tears at bay, but a couple escaped.
Debbie found her motherly instincts kicking in. All she wanted to do was to comfort him, so she squeezed him tight to her chest and pressed her lips to the side of his face.
Gently pushing Michael away, she suddenly exclaimed, "Whose hungry? I feel like making some pasta. You two staying for dinner?"
"Of course we are," Ben answered for them both, giving her a quick hug in the process.
"Alright, then make yourselves useful and set the table."
"But Ma, are you sure you should be doing that?"
Debbie huffed, "I can still cook for my family. I'm not dead...yet."
"I just..." , Michael began, but then thought better of it.
Carl wasn't at all surprised that she wanted to cook right now, it had always helped Debbie take her mind off of her worries in the past.
He thought about how those worries all seemed so trivial now.
Chapter 2 by Wildsweet_angel
Before they left, Carl had told both Michael and Ben to keep the news to themselves. He knew Debbie didn't want her friends at the diner to know what was going on, until it was absolutely necessary. Debbie hated people feeling sorry for her. If they knew she was sick, they would surely treat her differently.
It was nearly two weeks later and there was still no word. When Carl called the doctor's office yet again, he was told that the report from Brigham's Hospital could possibly take up to a month. Carl was frustrated, but other than calling every other day to check, there was nothing much he could do. It's a good thing he had gone back to work, it kept him busy so he didn't have time to think. Debbie had insisted and he was glad she had. She was working too, for now. As long as she felt up to it, Carl was fine with that. Besides, he checked in on her every free moment he had, either by calling or stopping by.
Meanwhile, Michael Novotny was having a hard time not sharing the news with his friends. Ben had lectured him on following Debbie's wishes to keep everything private for now. However, he didn't trust himself, so he avoided his friends as much as possible, especially Brian.
Brian Kinney was in his office, having just secured a contract with a lucrative account. He thought about sharing the good news with his best friend. He realized that he hadn't hung out or heard from Michael in almost two weeks, which was unusual. Their previously estranged friendship had been going fairly well, considering Michael was a suburban housewife now. Marriage was never something Brian had envisioned for his future, until Justin. Although he and Justin had almost tied the knot, they realized at the last minute that they didn't need a piece of paper to be committed to each other. Everyone would have to accept their relationship the way it was, unconventional.
Brian was relieved that he and his best friend had put their differences aside and had agreed to disagree about some of their choices in life. Since then, Michael made it a point to touch base with him at least once a week, and they habitually met up for dinner every other week. It was amazing that after all they had been through, they still had such a strong bond and loved each other like brothers.
Starting to feel a bit uneasy, Brian picked up the phone and dialed Michael's number. Michael answered on the second ring.
"Oh. Hi Brian. It's only you."
Hmmm...why did Michael sound disappointed.
"Nothing. Just waiting for some news."
"Oh? Everything okay with the family? Is young Mr. Hunter causing trouble in his college dorm again?"
"Ben's fine, too. It's...Ma" he said, his voice breaking.
"Debbie? What's wrong, Mikey?"
"She...she...has Cancer."
"Fuck!"
Brian hadn't meant to say that out loud, but he was caught off guard. The big fucking "C".
Michael caught him up to speed with all that had happened thus far; the routine endoscopy, the phone call from the doctor's office, the biopsy.
Of course, Brian being Brian, he had offered to arrange and pay for Debbie to see the top doctors in the world.
"Thanks, Brian, but we're still waiting to find out what type of cancer."
"Fuck that, you should at least call Sloan Kettering in Manhattan and make an appointment. They're the best."
Brian had learned through his own personal experience that you don't fuck around with cancer. Hearing the news about Deb, had put him right back in that vulnerable state of mind, when he thought he was going to die. When he tried to push everyone away, especially Justin. Debbie was likely going through her own version of hell right about now.
Debbie tried her best to keep busy and not acknowledge the severity of her diagnosis. But somehow, gloomy thoughts kept creeping into her head.
What if I die? Fuck, I better get this house organized! I don't even have a will. What will Carl do? They had only gotten married seven months ago, after waiting for so long.
Shit, what was her Michael going to do without her?
She knew her son would be crushed. And what about her granddaughter? She wouldn't get to see her beautiful, sweet, Jenny Rebecca grow up. Debbie couldn't help but think the worst. It was hard to be positive, when life throws you a curveball like cancer!
Michael had hardly slept these past couple of weeks. Not doing anything was the worst feeling. He decided to call Sloan Kettering Memorial Hospital, as Brian had suggested, so he wouldn't feel quite so useless.
The person on the other end of the phone was pleasant and patient. She listened to Michael ramble on about Debbie's predicament. While she empathized with what Debbie and her family were going through, she had a disappointing response.
"While I'd like to help you, Mr. Novotny, we're not allowed to make appointments for patients until they have a diagnosis. We'll need copies of all her records and tests, and the report providing a diagnosis is the most valuable piece of information. We must have it."
"My mother was told she has fucking cancer and you can't make an appointment?"
"No sir. Not until we have established the type of cancer she has. You see, we have specialists in every area. Once I know the type of cancer, I can select one of our doctors based on this information."
"We've been waiting two weeks already for a diagnosis. This is bullshit!"
The young lady on the other end of the phone, whose name was Yolanda, was sympathetic to Michael's plight. His sense of urgency and frustration were palpable, so she wasn't offended by his harsh words. The best she could do was to offer to call the hospital in Pennsylvania to request the diagnostic report, along with Debbie's other records. She promised to be insistent about the need for a diagnosis.
At that point, Michael realized that he was getting upset at the wrong person. He regretted the way he spoke to Yolanda. She was just doing her job. Maybe her phone call would help expedite things. He agreed to let her call. Yolanda took his phone number so she would be able to update him. All she needed was for Debbie to sign a release with the hospital. Michael assured her that wasn't a problem. He would take Debbie to the records department at Allegheny tomorrow.
Our health care system really sucks, Michael thought. So much red tape. So much waiting.
His mind quickly drifted back to his mother. Debbie had been the one constant in his life. She was always there to support and encourage him. He couldn't lose her to this terrible disease. If Brian beat this, Debbie could too.
Michael had never thought about Debbie not being here. He took it for granted that she would be around for a long time. The possibility that she might not, scared the shit out of him.
Chapter 3 by Wildsweet_angel
Brian headed home to the loft and Justin. The news about Debbie had put him in a weird mood. When he entered his humble abode, Justin was sketching something. Brian had no doubt whatever it was, it would be amazing. Although his hand still shook a little, all the therapy over the years had helped.
"Honey, I'm home!"
He was glad they had stayed in the loft and decided to sell Britin. This was where it all began.
"Hey Brian," Justin said, picking his head up briefly, before continuing to sketch.
Brian dumped his briefcase and suit jacket on one of the stools, walked over and stood directly in front of Justin.
"Want to help me out of these clothes?" he queried seductively.
"Sure," the blond said with a sly grin.
Justin laid down his pad and charcoal. He started unbuttoning Brian's shirt and gave him a peck on the lips. Brian pulled him in for a longer, more passionate kiss.
"Mmmmm...good day?"
Brian didn't answer, he just kissed Justin again, this time, a little more forceful.
Justin began helping the man he loved strip out of his clothes. Moving his hand down to the bulge in Brian's brief's, he stroked him through the soft, cotton material. He was not surprised that the older man was rock hard and ready to go. Brian's beautiful hazel eyes were glazed over with desire.
Once completely naked, Brian took charge and pushed Justin down onto the sofa. He grabbed the young man's pants and yanked them down to his ankles. Pulling down Justin's underwear, immediately revealed a thick, perfect cock, which was staring at him in attention. Brian teased him with his tongue, swirling it around the ridge of his penis. Justin's body arched toward Brian in anticipation. Justin loved when Brian gave him a blow job. However, instead of going down on Justin, Brian suddenly flipped him over and nudged him toward the end of the couch. Justin's stomach landed on one of the pillows, which resulted in his butt being slightly higher than the rest of his body.
Brian had Justin right where he wanted him. He guided his cock to Justin's hole and applied just enough pressure so the tip of his cock was pressing against it. Justin groaned. Thankfully, there was no need for condoms because they had been monogamous for the past year and a half.
"Fuck me."
"What do you want?" Brian asked as he rocked back and forth, rubbing against Justin's bottom.
"I said, Fuck me."
"You want it fast and hard?"
"Yes!"
With that, Brian entered Justin with one powerful thrust. Justin gasped. Brian showed no mercy and proceeded to pound into him swift and hard. Justin felt a searing rod of heat moving in and out of his butt. He became aware of the brunet's warm breath touching the nape of his neck.
Brian nipped at his ear and licked the droplets of sweat that were forming between his shoulder blades. The lovemaking was so intense, that their bodies made a sort of slapping sound when flesh impacted upon flesh.
A few thrusts later, Justin was panting and close to coming. Now it was Brian's turn to groan. Brian felt that familiar twinge in his groin. He closed his eyes, leaned backward and shot his load inside of Justin. This was as close to heaven as he was going to get. Collapsing on top of him, Brian languished there for a few seconds, as they both rode the waves of their orgasms.
"That was great," Justin proclaimed.
Brian was already getting off of him, when he decided he wasn't nearly done. They would wind up fucking twice more, once against the counter in the kitchen and once on the floor. It could only be categorized as 'fucking' because all three times Brian had slammed into his partner with fervor.
Finally satiated, Brian lay on the bare wood floor with Justin next to him, sweat dripping down their bodies from their recent exertions. Their breathing was slowly returning to normal. After a few blissful moments of basking in the afterglow of their fucking marathon, Brian slapped Justin's thigh and got up. He extended a hand and helped the blond off the floor.
"You okay?" Brian asked when he noticed Justin wincing.
"Yeah, nothing that a hot shower and some Vaseline can't fix."
Justin looked the older man up and down. He had to ask.
"What got into you Brian? It's been a while since you've pounded into me like that. Not once, but three fucking times! I'm definitely going to be walking funny for a couple of days."
Brian's brows lifted as he shrugged his shoulders.
"You complaining?"
"No." Justin smirked. "Not at all."
They took a long hot shower together and Brian seemed to have whatever it was out of his system. He lathered Justin's hair with shampoo and later helped him dry off with a towel.
"Here," Brian directed Justin. "Get on the bed. On your stomach and spread your legs."
Justin cast Brian a dubious look and Brian assured him, "Don't think I can get it up right now Sunshine, so you have nothing to fear."
Brian took the jar of Vaseline and gently applied it to Justin's sore ass. After he was done, they threw on some comfortable clothes.
Brian placed a chaste kiss on Justin's forehead. He gripped Justin's shoulders tightly, looked him in the eyes and in a voice devoid of emotion announced, "Debbie has cancer."
He then turned and walked over to the fridge to get some water, while Justin stood there in disbelief.
"What?"
Brian pretended he didn't hear him and continued to take a gulp of his water.
"Brian, what did you say?"
"I said, Debbie has cancer."
"When, how?"
"Michael told me when I spoke to him today. All they know is that she has a cancerous mass. They're still waiting for a full report and a prognosis."
"Oh my God. Does my mother know?"
"Don't think so."
Shaking his head, Justin said, "Sometimes I just don't understand you Brian."
"Few do," Brian quipped.
"You come home, fuck my brains out and then you casually mention that Debbie has cancer? As if she has a cold or something. It's fucking cancer! ...I've got to go over there."
"Do you know what time it is?" Brian reminded him.
Justin glanced at the clock on the wall.
10:34 pm. Debbie was probably getting ready for bed.
"Oh. Well, I guess I'll talk to her tomorrow."
Justin frowned, "Jesus, Brian. You could have told me sooner. You know, before you banged me into oblivion?"
Again, Brian just shrugged.
Michael sensed he had fucked up royally. Had he remembered to tell Brian to keep this to himself?
No, he hadn't!
Shit, he wasn't supposed to tell anybody. Didn't Ben drill it into him over and over? That's why he purposely limited contact with his friends. He had genuinely tried to keep everything quiet. But Brian was his best friend. He was accustomed to sharing his deepest secrets and thoughts with him. Maybe, just maybe, Brian wouldn't relay the bad news to anyone else. After all, he hadn't told anyone when he got his life altering news.
Two beats later, Michael realized all hope was lost. There was at least one fair haired young man who most likely already knew.
"Justin."
Chapter 4 by Wildsweet_angel
Justin wasted no time the next morning and headed off to the diner to see Debbie. When Brian informed him that Debbie was still working there, he was a little surprised, although he shouldn't have been. He knew his second mother well enough to know that she was not someone who sat idly at home, waiting. She needed to be kept busy, especially during times of crisis.
When Justin entered the Liberty Diner, the place was a flurry of activity. It was filled with assorted fags, queens, dykes and trannies busy chatting and eating breakfast. There were even customers waiting at the counter for takeout orders.
Debbie emerged from the kitchen with two loaded plates. One had an omelet on it, and the other a stack of golden brown pancakes. As soon as she spotted Justin, her eyes lit up.
"Sunshine!" she exclaimed with delight, the skin around her eyes crinkling at the sides. "Get your skinny butt over here!"
The blond forced a big smile, trying to hide his anxiety mounting beneath the surface.
After Debbie put both dishes down, she embraced him in a heartfelt, mama bear hug.
"How are you, baby?" she said as she grabbed him by the chin and began to look him over.
Debbie was thrilled to see her old boarder and surrogate son. It had been way too long and she missed him.
"I'm fine, Deb. I'm sorry I haven't been around. I'm working on another exhibition."
"Well, don't get too big for your britches to come around and see your old friends, mister."
"You know I'll always make time for you. Speaking of...ummm...Deb, can I talk to you?"
Justin had a strange, almost distraught look on his face. His hands fidgeted in his pockets.
"Sure, sweetheart. Follow me."
She wondered what was up as she led him to the stock room in the back of the kitchen. Last she had heard from Jennifer things were going well for Justin, both professionally and personally.
"What's wrong, honey? Is Brian treating you okay?"
"Oh no, we're great. It's you that I'm worried about. Deb, you know I'm always here for you, right? I'd do anything for you."
Why was Justin looking at her with tears suddenly springing up in those baby blue eyes?
He reached out and touched her shoulder, rubbing it.
Wait a minute. Shit! Does he know?
Debbie pursed her lips.
"You know about the cancer."
It had been more of a statement than a question, because judging by his entire demeanor, she could tell. Justin always wore his heart on his sleeve, especially years back when he was a naïve teenager in love with Brian.
Justin was confused. Was he not supposed to know?
He recognized that all too famiiar look overtaking Debbie's normally cherubic features. She was getting pissed.
"Who told..." she stopped mid sentence, because it only took her an instant to come to the realization of who could possibly have divulged her secret.
"Michael. That little asshole." she said aloud, shaking her head.
Nervously running his fingers through his blond locks, Justin confessed, "Uh, actually it was Brian who told me."
"It figures." Debbie responded, obviously exasperated. "My son never could keep his big mouth shut. Especially when it comes to the almighty God Kinney."
"I'm sorry, Deb." Justin apologized.
"It's not your fault. We still don't know everything and I wanted to keep this private, to myself for just a little while. Was that too fucking much to ask?"
Justin merely stood there, silent and looking guilty.
"Evidently it was," she said in answer to her own question, throwing her hands up in the air as she said it.
"Deb. I definitely want to respect your wishes. So, when you're ready, I just want you to know that Brian and I will both be here for you."
Debbie started to calm down. She could feel the tension she felt a moment ago ebbing. She leaned close, caressed his face and gave him a peck on the cheek.
"Thank you, Justin."
They walked out to the dining area together where they were greeted with, "OMG, Ted, do you see who I see? Could it be the prodigal son, back to grace us with his presence? The Pitt's rising new star? The reknowned artist, Justin Taylor, formerly known as Sunshine?"
Before Justin departed her side, Debbie held him back a second by grabbing him by the wrist.
"Remember, if you don't want me to blast you a new asshole, keep it zipped," she threatened sternly.
Justin nodded and then smirked, before he walked toward where Emmett and Ted were sitting. Debbie was still the Debbie he remembered and loved. If cancer was to be her next battle, she would be more than up to the task. Justin readily joined his old friends for a bite to eat, being mindful of what Debbie had said.
Michael was thankfully, at home, where his stomach was currently doing flip flops. He had run to the bathroom twice already. What the fuck was he thinking when he told Brian about his mother's shattering cancer diagnosis?
He wasn't thinking, that was it. As usual, he had let his emotions get the best of him. Michael blamed his impulsive, sometimes over the top reactions due to heredity. After all, his father being a huge drag queen and entertainer, it was to be expected. Although, right now, he was wishing he didn't take after him quite so much.
As soon as Michael told Ben what he had done, his husband let out a chortle of disbelief.
"Michael, I don't know what to say."
"You don't have to say anything. I fucked up, big time."
Ben frowned, his features solemn. However, he then placed his hands on his partner's shoulders and gave them a squeeze.
"Have you spoken to Debbie?"
"No. I've been trying to get up enough courage to call her."
"Aha."
"That's it. That's all you have as words of encouragement?"
"Michael, I've known Debbie for years now. She's going to be upset. I think it's going to take her a while to get past it. I warned you to keep this a secret."
"Now it sounds like you're upset with me, too," Michael said with sad, remorseful, puppy dog eyes.
"Upset no. Disappointed, yes. I know how it feels when you've been told you have something life threatening. I needed time to process that I was HIV positive and how it would impact my life. I'm sure Debbie feels the same."
"You're right. I don't know if I could ever make it up to her."
Ben loved Michael with all his heart, but he also knew and accepted his flaws.
Not wanting Michael to berate himself any more than he had, the older man said softly, "I'm sure you'll find a way."
Ben kissed Michael's forehead and headed to the bathroom to freshen up. Soon he'd start cooking dinner since it looked like Michael was too preoccupied with facing the consequences of his latest action.
Alone with his thoughts, Michael took a deep breath, summoned up his nerve and picked up the phone's receiver. Time to face the music.
"Hello."
"Hi Ma," he said apprehensively, not knowing what to expect.
Before he could get out another word, he heard a loud clunk on the other end that reverberated in his ear. Debbie had hung up on him.
"Fuck!"
Chapter 5 by Wildsweet_angel
A short while later, Debbie heard the telephone's shrill ring again. This time, she remembered to check the caller ID. It was Michael, of course. She let it ring.
Carl watched his wife standing steadfast by the phone, not reaching for it.
"Deb, why aren't you answering?"
His question was met with silence.
Perplexed, Carl scowled as he approached Debbie. "Is it the hospital?"
"No Carl, it's Michael again," she snapped, visibly annoyed.
"Again? Then why didn't you pick up the phone?"
She turned and looked him squarely in the eyes.
Shaking a finger at him, Debbie claimed, "It's all because of what you did."
"What did I do?" Carl queried, bewildered at her accusatory tone.
"Michael told Brian that I have cancer. Then, Brian told Justin that I have cancer. Do you see the problem here?"
Debbie was seething.
"But what does any of that have to do with me?"
"Well, let me think, Carl. I didn't ask you to call Michael to come over the house. I also don't remember asking you to tell him that I was sick!"
Debbie was finished saying her piece, and right now, she hated everyone and everything. The enraged redhead stomped up the stairs to her bedroom in a huff and closed the door shut.
Carl was at his wit's end. Debbie's emotions were all over the place lately. Maybe he shouldn't have told Michael, but he thought he was doing something good at the time. Carl wondered how long she would stay mad at her only son. It then dawned on him that he should be worried about how long she was going to stay mad at him!
A new day had arrived. Debbie was taking an order from two young hustlers sitting in a booth. She caught a glimpse of Michael, out of the corner of her eye. He was making a b-line straight for her. Debbie turned on her heels and hastily took refuge behind the counter. Although Michael witnessed her almost comical act of dodging him, he pursued her anyway.
"Ma! Ma!" he repeated, trying to get her attention.
Debbie ignored him and greeted her other customers. She was still very upset, she couldn't even look at him.
"Please Ma, we need to talk."
Debbie turned her head to the side.
"Kiki, can you wait on this person, please."
At first, Kiki didn't catch on, but when she noticed Debbie's flustered face, she knew that for whatever reason, Michael was on her shit list.
Kiki swallowed nervously, practically tiptoeing around Debbie to face Michael.
"Can I help you, hon?" she said, cracking her gum.
Michael looked at his mother, who was still not willing to acknowledge him. He then looked down, dejected.
"No thanks, Kiki. I've suddenly lost my appetite," his voice fading at the end.
Michael thought he had never seen Debbie so angry, as he slid behind the wheel of his car to go home. No, that wasn't entirely true. Michael could never forget that one time, years ago, when he had first told her that he was in a relationship with HIV positive, Ben. It was against her wishes and Debbie was furious. There was no reasoning with her. Based on his past experience Michael decided it was best to leave and perhaps, try later.
Debbie was massaging her aching feet and Carl was reading the newspaper when the doorbell rang. Carl got up to answer it. Debbie quickly called out, "If it's Michael, I have nothing to say to him."
Carl peered out through the peephole. It was Michael. He knew that if he didn't follow Debbie's orders, he would be relegated to sleeping on the couch, once again. He didn't think his body could handle another uncomfortable, sleepless night.
Carl opened the door, but stood in the doorway, essentially blocking the entrance.
"Michael."
"Carl. I have to see Ma."
"I'm sorry, Michael, but Debbie doesn't want to see you right now."
"I'll only need a few minutes."
Carl stood immobile. Determined, Michael tried to pass, but couldn't get around the stocky man.
Debbie overheard their exchange and bounded for the front door.
Michael stopped struggling to get by Carl when he saw his mother and waited for her to allow him in. Instead, Debbie stated, "Please leave. Can't you see I don't want you here. You nor your big fucking mouth that you would think you would know how to control by now."
"Ma, I'm sorry. I..."
"You had no right... It was my news to tell. How fucking dare you..." her voice straining with emotion.
Debbie shocked him by slamming the door in his face and locking it.
It was no use. He wasn't getting anywhere with her. What the heck was he going to do?
Brian had a soft spot for his oldest and dearest friend. So when Michael showed up at the loft, his eyes big and moist, pleading with him to intervene with Debbie, he relented. Michael was so happy, he planted a big, wet smooch on Brian's mouth, much to his young partner's irritation. Justin was a little annoyed that Brian was once again coming to Michael's defense. Michael was a big boy and needed to learn how to deal with his own problems, or better yet, rely on Ben to help him.
Thinking like an ad man and owner of a successful company, Brian devised a strategy to sway Debbie. He knew that deep down inside the woman loved her son more than anything. She would just need a little coaxing to forgive him. Brian had an idea and was hoping it would work.
When Brian rang Debbie's doorbell, Carl answered.
"Oh, Brian. Hi."
"Hi, Detective."
"I prefer, Carl. Unless you want me to call you Mr. Kinney after all these years?"
Brian's lips curled upward into a smirk.
"Carl it is."
"What can I do for you, Brian?"
"Is Debbie here?"
"She is, but I have to tell you Brian, I don't want anyone to upset her any more than she is. Maybe you better go."
Debbie suddenly appeared, placing a hand on Carl's arm and said, "It's okay, Carl. Let him in."
"Hi Ma," Brian said, feeling like he was 14 years old again. Debbie always had the ability to transport him back in time. He gave her a kiss on the check and then, on impulse, embraced her in a tight hug. They lingered in the hug, unspoken words hanging in the air.
At some point, Carl had made his exit and the two of them were alone. Brian wrapped an arm around Debbie and led her to the sofa.
"You know my secret," Debbie said in almost a whisper.
"And you know mine," Brian smiled. "I would pull out a joint, but your husband being a detective and all."
"Like you give a shit," Debbie laughed.
"You're right, I don't."
Brian pulled out a joint and lit up. It was good to see her smile. Brian inhaled first, drawing in a long plume of smoke.
"Hand it over," Debbie nudged him. She drew in two breaths and slowly let out some grey smoke.
"I guess it's going to be one of those talks," she said.
"You know how I get when I'm stoned. I get profound."
"No, you get corny."
"Corny?" Brian dipped his brows, letting out another ribbon of smoke.
"Yes, corny. Go ahead, impart your words of wisdom," Debbie said stealing the joint from his fingers.
"I just want you to listen to me, Deb. No talking, okay?"
"I don't like the sound of this already."
"Look, Deb. I know Michael has his faults, but we all do. I may even have one or two."
Debbie let out a chuckle.
"Ha! That's the understatement of the year."
Brian arched an eyebrow, then he became serious.
"Michael was upset and needed someone to talk to. Naturally that someone was me."
"Naturally."
"Deb, why don't you cut him some slack. You know how much he adores you. He's really broken up that you won't talk to him."
"After what he did. You, above everyone else should understand."
"I do. That's why I'm here partaking in one of my favorite vices with you. I was where you were. Wouldn't tell anyone, not even Justin. I learned the hard way that you need people to help you, especially when you're up against the big fucking "C"."
Brian grabbed an ashtray and flicked the ashes, before continuing.
"Maybe Michael shared the news before you were ready to, but he meant well. He's worried about you. Need I remind you when you had a falling out with Vic. You weren't speaking for weeks."
Brian hated to bring it up, and felt an instant of regret. But it had to be said.
"He died before the two of you had a chance to make things right. Do you want that to happen with you and Michael? And what about when Michael almost died at Babylon, not too long ago? What if he had never woken up?"
Debbie's tears started to flow. When Brian had mentioned her brother, Vic, and then when Michael almost died, it was too much. She realized life was too short and she was being unreasonably hard on Michael.
Brian took his thumb and wiped away a lone tear. He handed Debbie his handkerchief.
She blew her nose loudly and then tried handing it back to him.
"Uh, why don't you just keep it."
They both looked at each other and burst out in giggles.
Carl entered the living room sniffing and staring at both of them.
"What the heck's going on in here?"
"Nothing," Debbie said with a straight face.
"Nothing at all," Brian reiterated with his best poker face, hiding the joint behind his back.
"Never mind. I don't want to know," Carl said, waving his hand in front of his face to dispel the smoke. He walked upstairs, shaking his head and mumbling.
Debbie and Brian broke out into an even louder fit of laughter.
Chapter 6 by Wildsweet_angel
Debbie was getting ready for her shift at the diner, but her right leg was still hurting her. It had started yesterday and she thought maybe she had pulled a muscle.
"Leg still bothering you?" Carl asked before taking a sip of his coffee.
"Yeah. I'll take a Tylenol before I go to work."
"Ok," Carl said and he gave Debbie a peck on her on the cheek. "But if your leg still bothers you later, promise me you'll leave work early?"
"Yes, I will."
"Talk to you later?"
"You bet," Debbie assured him.
Savoring his final gulp of coffee, Carl placed the empty mug in the sink and left to go to work.
Debbie was glad she had decided to let go of all her pent up anger. She didn't want to harbor any ill feelings toward her son or Carl. She needed their support and love. If Michael came into the diner today, she had made up her mind to reconcile with him. Her marijuana fueled talk with Brian had made her realize that Michael was just being Michael, reacting with his heart first before thinking. When Brian had reminded her of what happened with Vic, she couldn't deny the truth of his words. Life was too short, tomorrow wasn't promised to anyone. The bombing of Babylon had proved that.
The day was starting off like most other days, the diner was bustling. Debbie spotted Ted, Blake and Emmett in a booth and walked over to greet them.
"Hi boys."
"Morning, Deb. Hiya Deb," Ted and Emmett chimed. Blake flashed a warm smile.
"Is Michael meeting you here?"
"We haven't heard from him in a couple of days. Is everything okay?"
"Absolutely fine," Debbie said, playing it off as nothing.
"What'll you have?"
They rattled off their breakfast orders and Debbie left to submit it to the kitchen.
Debbie and Michael had both been acting strange lately. All three men could tell that something was going on that they weren't privy to.
When their order was ready, Debbie delivered it to their table.
"You don't look so hot, Deb," Emmett remarked.
"I'm okay, honey, just a little tired."
She hadn't gotten much sleep since the whole cancer drama had begun. And last night, her leg kept her up, because she couldn't get comfortable no matter what she did.
Debbie returned to the kitchen for her next order. She felt hot and sweaty. Damned changes! What women have to go through! Suddenly, the room started to spin. Debbie felt weak and found herself struggling to stay on her feet.
Ted happened to glance over just in time to see Debbie topple over, sending her and the plates she was carrying to the ground. The entire diner jumped to their feet, as seven people, including Ted, Blake and Emmett rushed to Debbie's aid.
"Somebody call an ambulance," Emmett frantically shouted.
Debbie was barely conscious, her breathing labored, her face ashen. Ted put his suit jacket under her head. Kiki got a wet cloth from the kitchen and placed it over her forehead.
When Michael entered the diner, he saw a crowd of people. Amidst the commotion he noticed his friends Ted and Emmett kneeling next to someone. Horror took hold of him when he realized that someone was his mother.
"Ma! Oh my God! What happened?" Michael exclaimed, as he pushed others aside to get to Debbie.
"She just collapsed," Emmett said sounding upset and appearing to be on the verge of tears.
The ambulance's siren crescendoed to a deafening level as it got closer and closer, finally stopping in front of the diner.
Michael was cradling Debbie, trying to get some kind of response from her, as the EMS workers barged into the diner, carrying their equpment. They wasted no time and began to examine her. Michael wisely moved to give them some room to work.
The first thing they did was listen to her heart and check her pulse.
"Sir, do you know her?" the blond paramedic directed to Michael.
"I'm her son. Is she going to be okay?"
The young man ignored his question and asked, "Does she have any conditions or allergies that we should know about?"
"No allergies, but...she was recently diagnosed with cancer."
Michael hated to say it, but he felt it was important that they know everything.
"Is she undergoing any treatment?"
"No, not yet."
Ted and Emmett locked eyes at the mention of the word, "cancer". What the fuck?
Debbie was gently lifted onto a gurney after an IV with saline solution had been inserted into her arm.
"Is she going to be alright?" Michael persisted.
"Well sir, her pulse is weak and her pallor isn't good." Then, with more empathy the paramedic asked, "Would you like to ride in the ambulance with her?"
"Yes."
He looked over at Ted, Emmet and Blake.
"Can you call Carl and Ben?"
"Will do." Ted answered. "Go ahead baby, we'll take care of it," Emmett offered as he patted Michael on the back.
All the patrons and diner staff stood by silently and watched as Debbie was loaded onto the ambulance. Michael climbed in after her and they sped away.
Ben and Carl arrived at the hospital within minutes of each other. Michael was anxiously pacing in the waiting area.
"Where is she?" Carl asked, his face advertising the depth of concern for the woman he loved.
"The doctors are with her. They haven't told me anything yet."
Ben tried to get Michael to sit down, but he jumped up again seconds later when Ted, Emmet, Blake, Justin and Brian made their entrance.
Brian was the first to speak. "Do they know anything yet?"
"No..." Michael began, but stopped short when he saw a doctor approaching.
"Mr. Horvath?"
Carl spoke up, "That's me."
Michael walked over, too.
"This is her son, Michael Novotny."
The doctor nodded in acknowledgment.
"Can I speak to you both in private?"
"Sure, doc."
"Follow me, please."
Once he had separated them from the rest of the "family", the doctor revealed, "I'm afraid the tumor in her stomach is causing her to lose blood. Mrs. Horvath needed a blood transfusion, which she's getting right now. In addition, I've ordered some tests to further look into what's going on."
The doctor turned to Carl. "Can you tell me if there was anything unusual about today? Did she complain about anything?"
Carl thought hard. "She looked fine and didn't say anything was bothering her." But then he remembered, "Oh yeah, she did complain that her leg was hurting her. Do you think that has anything to do with what happened?"
"It's unlikely, but we'll check it out. Which leg?"
"Her right leg. Can we visit her?"
"She's still very weak, but you can see her. I'll tell the nurse. Not more than two people and you can't stay long. Her condition is critical right now. Hopefully she'll be much stronger in a couple of hours."
The gang was still congregating in the waiting area and this time Jennifer had joined them.
"Is she going to be okay?"
Carl relayed, "They're running more tests. She collapsed because she lost a lot of blood. They're giving her a blood transfusion as we speak."
"We're going in to visit her for a little while. Only two people are allowed, the doctor said," Michael added. Then he turned to Brian, "Can you please explain to them what's going on?"
Brian nodded in affirmation.
"Please everyone, I appreciate your concern, but there's nothing you can do at this time. You should all just go home," Carl advised, sounding like a detective on a case.
No one seemed to want to move.
Not wanting to upset Carl, Emmet replied, "Okay we'll go. But please give us an update as to what's going on and if there's anything we can do to help."
Carl managed an appreciative smile and a thank you before he turned around and strode down the corridor with Michael to see Debbie. Debbie was lucky to have all of these people who loved her like family, he thought.
Debbie looked so pale and appeared to be asleep. Carl and Michael stayed by her side until they were asked to leave after about half an hour.
"She's going for tests as soon as she stabilizes," the nurse informed them. "You should get something to eat and come back later. You both look like you could use a break."
When they came out of the room they saw Ben and Brian waiting. Michael went straight to Ben's open arms.
Brian squeezed Carl's shoulder. "If you need anything, anything at all, you call me."
"Thank you, Brian. I will."
"Thanks, Brian," Michael echoed, wiping a tear from his eye.
"Call me later," Brian told Michael. His best friend nodded.
"We probably should get something to eat," Carl said. "They promised they would call us when we could see her again."
Brian accompanied them to the elevator. When they got to the front of the hospital, they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Brian left to go to the office and Carl, Michael and Ben went to get something to eat.
After eating, they were driving back to the hospital when Carl got a call.
"What is it?" Michael asked impatiently when Carl ended his conversation.
"Debbie's vitals have stabilized and they're taking her in for her last test, a PET scan. She should be back in her room in a while, so we can visit in about an hour. She's alert and asking for us."
"That's encouraging," Ben said.
Debbie was no longer in intensive care. They had moved her to a regular room. When Carl and Michael entered, she was so relieved to see them.
They both kissed and hugged her. Michael pulled back and asked, "Do you forgive me?"
"Of course, you little asshole," Debbie said affectionately, giving him a soft smack on the head.
"I guess you're feeling better?" Carl laughed.
"Much better. I heard I keeled over?"
"You gave everyone a scare. The gang was all here, we had to send them home."
"Brian, Emmet, Ted?"
"And Justin, and Blake and Jennifer," Michael continued in a sing song voice.
"Wow," Debbie said. She was truly touched. Tears welled up in her eyes.
"Everybody loves you, Deb. What's not to love about you?" Carl interjected.
"Thank you, honey," she blushed.
A couple of hours later, Dr. Sloan entered the room, looking serious.
"Mrs. Horvath, Mr. Horvath, Mr. Novotny," he said, acknowledging each one of them.
"Debbie," she corrected him.
"Debbie," Dr. Sloan grinned at the woman's outspoken manner. But then he became serious again.
"I want to discuss not only the results of your tests, but we also received the diagnostic report on the biopsies we sent to Brigham Hospital."
"It's about fucking time," Michael muttered.
He was obviously waiting for Michael and Carl to leave, when Debbie informed him, "Whatever you have to tell me, my husband and son can hear."
"I'll respect your wishes, of course," Dr. Sloan said.
"So give it to me straight, doc."
Carl and Michael stood on either side of her bed. Carl squeezed Debbie's hand tightly.
"I'm afraid it's not good news."
Chapter 7 by Wildsweet_angel
"As I suspected, it's been confirmed that you have a very rare form of cancer called Angiosarcoma. In addition to the tumor in your stomach, there is a sizeable mass in the duodenum, which is the first part of the small intestine leading to the stomach."
"Okay, so what's the next step? Chemo, radiation?" Michael inquired anxiously, barely giving the man time to finish.
"I wish it were that simple. However, there's more."
Dr. Sloan frowned, his gray eyes betraying a deep sadness.
Her doctor's words and concerned expression instantly evoked an ominous feeling. Debbie's eyes consequently brimmed with tears, her heart beating rapidly, as she tried to mentally brace herself for the worst.
"Go ahead, doctor, please, tell me."
Dr. Sloan looked directly into Debbie's fearful, pleading eyes. She was a good woman, a woman so full of life and love, he absolutely hated his job at the moment.
"I'm afraid there's another complication. The pain you're experiencing in your leg... It indicates that the cancer isn't localized as we'd hoped, it has already metastasized."
"You're sure about this?" Carl queried, after he was able to somewhat recover from the jolt of this unexpected development.
"I'm afraid so, Mr. Horvath. The recent tests we gave your wife reaffirmed that."
Refusing to think the unthinkable, Michael questioned the doctor yet again. "So, how do we start treating this?"
"Mr. Novotny, Angiosarcoma is a cancer of the lining of the blood vessels. The nature of this cancer is that it can travel quickly throughout the body. It's no surprise that it's spread to other areas."
Michael was still trying to wrap his head around what the doctor was saying, when Debbie surprised everyone by boldly asking, "How long do I have?"
"Now Deb...the doctor didn't say that," Carl reminded her.
"Doctor? I'm entitled to know the truth," Debbie insisted sternly.
Dr. Sloan closed his eyes for a second. He knew Mrs. Horvath...Debbie, had every right to know. It was his obligation to tell her.
"My professional, as well as personal advice, would be to start getting your affairs in order...as soon as possible."
The stark truth of what he said collectively knocked the wind out of all three of them.
"What the fuck?" Michael cried, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
"You mean, there's nothing more you can do?" Carl asked earnestly, grasping at any small sign that there was hope.
Dr. Sloan sighed, "Due to the undpredictability of this rare cancer and the confirmation that it's spread, including to some lymph nodes, your wife has been diagnosed with Stage IV Angiosarcoma. The statistics for survival of more than a few months are low. I'm truly sorry to be the bearer of such bad news. For now, I think it's best for me to leave you alone to let you all process what I've just said. I'll come back a later to answer any remaining questions you have. "
The doctor took two steps forward and put a comforting hand on Debbie's shoulder.
"I'm so sorry."
He'd been a doctor for over thirty years and there was no easy way of telling a patient they were going to die. No way to soften the harsh, cruel reality that there was nothing more he could do and that it was time for them to face their own mortality. Perhaps, the most difficult part was looking at the sheer devastation and desperation in his patients' faces. Some would break out into a hysterical crying fit, some were too shocked to react and some took the news bravely as Debbie had, holding it together for the sake of her family.
Michael scurried after the doctor as Carl turned to console his wife.
"Doctor Sloan!"
"Can I help you, Mr. Novotny?"
"There must be something you can do, chemo, radiation? Surgery?"
"Chemtherapy has not proven to be effectiive. As far as radiation, we could schedule some sessions for her leg, but it would only be to make her more comfortable. And surgery is not an option. In fact, it may make things worse. Mr. Novotny, it's your mother's decision as to how she wants to proceed. But I must warn you, based on what the tests showed, she unfortunately doesn't have much time left."
Michael just stood there as the doctor walked away. He would not, could not accept the doctor's prognosis. There was no way he was going to let his mother die. Anger flared up inside of him. He did the only thing he could think of at the moment, he decided to place a call to his best friend. Brian, if anyone, would know what to do since he had experienced a similar, life threatening situation.
Ted strolled into the plush office unannounced. His position at Kinnetic and his familiarity with Brian afforded him that right. However, as soon as he stepped into the room and heard his boss' strained voice, he sensed something was amiss. Brian hadn't lifted his head, or even looked up from the phone when Ted entered. He thought about leaving, but he couldn't. Curiosity got the better of him as he listened to Brian's end of the conversation.
"Don't worry. I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Yeah, me too."
As Ted approached his desk, Brian's features contorted as he hung up the receiver. For a second it almost looked like he was going to cry. Ted cleared his throat and Brian quickly replaced his distraught look with a mask of authority and composure.
"What do you want?" Brian barked at his second in command.
"I...I have some contracts for you to sign."
"Give them to me."
Ted knew something was indeed wrong when Brian grabbed the papers from his hand and proceeded to sign them without reading them or asking him what they were about.
"Ugh, Bri, I couldn't help but notice that you were upset by that phone call. Is something wrong?"
"Yes, something is definitely wrong," Brian stated flatly, without elaborating further.
Ted began to say something else, but Brian abruptly cut him off.
"Tell Cynthia that I won't be taking any calls or seeing any visitors for the rest of the afternoon."
"Sure, Bri," Ted said as he headed for the door. The man had made it loud and clear that he wanted to be left alone.
"Oh and Theodore..."
Ted stopped short and turned to look back at Brian.
"Yes, boss?"
"Lock the door behind you. I'd like some privacy. Afterall, I wouldn't want anyone to overhear any of my private phone conversations."
Brian arched his eyebrow, knowing that Ted would get the message.
Slightly embarrassed, Ted nodded and hastily took his leave. Brian obviously wasn't ready to divulge anything. Over the years they had become close friends. He hoped that Brian would eventually tell him what was going on. Whatever it was, it was serious enough to rattle Brian's usually controlled demeanor.
Chapter 8 by Wildsweet_angel
By noon the next day, Brian had called Michael to have Debbie's records sent to Memorial Sloan Kettering in Manhattan. It had a reputation for being the top Cancer hospital in the country. It was also one of the few hospitals with a Sarcoma Center dedicated to the research and study of this rare and deadly cancer.
Dr.William Tate served as the presiding Chief of the Sarcoma Center. His reputation was stellar and world renowned. When Dr.Tate had received an urgent phone call yesterday from a colleague, asking if he would give a consult on a patient in Pittsburg who had been newly diagnosed with the beast, he readily agreed. Dr. Tate called it the beast, because it had become personal for him. He thought of it as an cruel adversary that showed no mercy for its prey, whether young or old, rich or poor.
Debbie's head was still reeling from the day before, when she had essentially received a death sentence. So this was how she was going to go out. Defeated by cancer. Michael assured her over and over again that Brian would come up with an alternative, but Debbie was not getting her hopes up. However, if there was something that could be done, Debbie was willing to try it. She wasn't the type of person to give up without a fight. When Michael told her this afternoon that Brian had arranged a consult with one of the top Sarcoma specialists in the world, she couldn't suppress the glimmer of hope that ignited within her.
A short while later, Dr. Sloan visited and informed Debbie and Carl that since her vitals were stable and her bloodwork decent, she was most likely going to be released tomorrow. Carl took the opportunity to extend the courtesy of telling Dr.Sloan that they were seeking a second opinion and the doctor was all for it. He had told Carl that he always encouraged his patients to do so. Carl was tempted to ask if that were true then why hadn't he suggested it yesterday, but then thought better of it. He didn't want to start something with the man in front of his wife, who had enough to deal with.
Of course, Debbie had cried in Carl's arms when she first got the news. She allowed herself that one day of self pity, but then she resolved to be strong for the sake of her family. However, right now, Debbie could barely look at neither Carl nor Michael because they seemed to be watching her every move, searching for any sign of weakness that she was going to break down and fall apart. But she was Debbie Novotny and she was one tough broad, so fuck 'em' and their pitiful stares. She was more than ready to do battle.
The very next day, Debbie was released from the hospital. Carl, Michael and Ben brought her home. Michael sat in the back seat of Carl's dark blue Chevy Cruze with his arm wrapped around his mother the entire time, as if he were afraid to let her go. When they reached the Horvath residence, Michael and Ben each embraced her in a tight hug and said a quick "love you" before making their exit, so Debbie could get some rest.
Within minutes, Debbie had snuggled into her sofa, elated to be home. Not even ten minutes later, Dr.Tate's office was calling. Carl anxiously leapt up to answer it. They requested that Debbie and her family come to a consultation at Dr. Tate's office on York Avenue the day after tomorrow. When Carl got off the phone and told Debbie, she just remembered thinking that everything was happening so fast. On the other hand, she also realized that with this type of fast moving cancer, there was absolutely no time to waste.
The next day Debbie had a stream of visitors. First there was Jennifer, who brought over some breakfast. Next, came Emmett and Ted at lunchtime. Emmett barely kept his emotions in check. Ted nudged him with an elbow in the ribs when it appeared as if he were going to cry. He did his best to regain his composure, but couldn't stop himself from grabbing Debbie close to him with tears in his eyes, before he left. Justin, Michael and Ben all came around dinner time. Debbie noticed how not one of her family had mentioned her cancer prognosis. In fact, they all seemed to be trying to avoid the topic. While Debbie appreciated their visits, she was a little annoyed that they were tip toeing around the elephant in the room. She wasn't sure how much of their well intentioned visits she would be able to take.
Since hearing from Michael that it was Brian who arranged for her records to be reviewed by Dr. Tate, Debbie was a little surprised that she had not seen or heard from the man. Debbie wasn't upset with him though, because she knew that Brian handled things differently from everyone else. She was actually a little concerned. He, no doubt, was rehashing his own war against cancer and brush with death. Debbie knew Brian was probably dealing with this on his own and not letting anyone in.
Brian ran his fingers through strands of chestnut hair. He was having trouble concentrating on his work and hadn't been sleeping well either. He had thought that once he confided in Ted about what was going on with Debbie, he would function better. He was wrong. When Justin asked him to go to dinner with him at Deb's house, he purposely made up an excuse. After work, he felt compelled to head straight to Babylon. Then, when he got home at 2:30 in the morning, Justin heard him come in and looked as if he were going to say something, but didn't. He wasn't really sure why he was acting the way he was acting. Maybe it was because he was reliving his own cancer scare, or maybe it had something to do directly with the gravity of Debbie's situation. Whatever it was, he realized he was fucked up.
The day of the consultation came. Michael insisted that he go with Carl and Debbie. After all, he reasoned, that three people listening to what the doctor had to say would ensure they wouldn't miss anything. As they waited in his office to speak with Dr. Tate, they couldn't help but notice the various diplomas and awards covering its walls. Michael had a good feeling about this doctor.
A tall bespectacled man entered the room. He was garbed in the standard doctor's lab coat with a white shirt and purple tie underneath. Much to Debbie's surprise, he looked younger than she had imagined him to look. He had cobalt blue eyes and dirty blond hair with a warm and genuine smile. Dr.Tate motioned with his hand to stop them from rising from their seats and walked over to greet them, each with a firm handshake. Then he retreated to his desk and opened the file in front of him.
"I have reviewed Mrs. Horvath's labs and tests. I'm going to be very honest and upfront with you. Angiosarcoma is a rare and very aggressive cancer. It's statistics for survival past 6 months are low, especially when it has spread to other areas."
When he saw the hope draining from their eyes, he added.
"However, there is something we can try. Immunotherapy has proven to have some promising successes, even when the cancer is advanced."
Debbie asked, "What exactly is immunotherapy. I've heard of it, but really don't know shit about it. Excuse my language, doctor."
A smirk briefly adorned his face before Dr. Tate answered.
"It is given intravenously every two to three weeks. In your case, I would start you on Keytruda, immediately."
"Does it have any side effects?" Carl piped up.
"Yes, it does. The most common side effects are fatigue, rash, constipation, diarrhea. It's your decision and yours alone if you want to try it, Mrs. Horvath. But I would advise that you make your decision as soon as possible."
Debbie seemed to be pondering everything she just heard.
"Ma, you have to do it. Why are you even thinking about this?"
"Michael, it's not that simple..."
"Carl, tell her."
"Michael, it's your mother's decision."
Dr.Tate rose from his desk.
"I'll give you a few minutes to talk it over."
"Thank you, doctor, " Carl said.
As soon as he left the room, Michael again insisted that Debbie had to try it.
"Michael, honey," she began, "I know you're concerned for me, but I have to think about all of the consequences. I don't know if I want to be sick and feel like shit all the time, especially if it may or may not work."
"But Ma..."
"Michael Novotny, not another word. This is my life. I'll make my own decision. Now, shut the fuck up or leave."
Michael was shocked at the vehemence of Debbie's words. He felt like he had been slapped in the face. In response, he closed his open mouth and gazed down at the floor, like a little boy after being scolded.
Five minutes later, Dr. Tate re-entered. He sat on the edge of the desk.
"Well, Mrs. Horvath, what will it be?"
Chapter 9 by Wildsweet_angel
The single thought running through Debbie's mind before she answered, was what do I think is right for me? She couldn't think about her son, or even Carl at this moment, she had to be selfish.
Michael and Carl awaited Debbie's answer, heads both turned toward her, seemingly with bated breaths.
The red head straightened up in her seat, put her hands in her lap, looked directly at the doctor and said, "I want to try the Keytruda."
"That's wonderful, Mrs. Horvath. We'll start you on it right away."
The two most important men in her life expelled a breath of relief upon hearing her words.
Dr.Tate continued, "Please stop at the desk on your way out. My receptionist will arrange an appointment for you for tomorrow."
"Thank you so much, doctor," Debbie said gratefully.
After arranging a return appointment to begin immunotherapy, Debbie paused in the lobby of the building.
"Don't think I did this for either of you. I did this for me. If it will give me one more week, I'm willing to do it. If this immune...immuno…whatever the fuck it is, works for me, fantastic! But if it doesn't, at least I know I tried everything and that I can leave this world in peace."
She couldn't tell them that the main reason for her decision was her brother Vic, and the fact that he never had a chance to say goodbye. Vic didn't depart knowing that he said all he had to say to his loved ones. He was never able to repair his relationship with her, or get his things in order because he passed so suddenly. Debbie wanted whatever time she could get, because that was sure as shit not going to happen to her!
"I'm glad you're going to do it, Ma. Whatever the reason," Michael said.
Carl kissed her on the cheek before they headed out the door. He whispered in her ear, "I'm happy that you did what was best for you, sweetheart. Whatever you decided, I would be by your side, always."
Debbie raised a hand and lovingly cupped Carl's face. The man was wonderful and he was her rock. She suddenly felt very emotional. In a quavering voice Debbie declared aloud, "How did I get so damn lucky?"
Brian Kinney had barely gotten home from work, when he started to get dressed to go out again.
"Hey, Brian. Do you have a business dinner?"
Justin scratched his head, as if trying to remember if Brian told him he had something to do tonight.
"Not exactly. Thought I'd go out for a while."
"Can I come with you?" Justin asked, his instincts telling him to accompany his partner.
"Not this time, ball and chain."
Justin was taken aback by his comment.
"Brian, something's going on with you. What's wrong?"
"Nothing's wrong. I need to get out for a while."
"Brian, please. Talk to me."
Brian turned and took Justin by the shoulders. He wanted to tell him everything that was bothering him, but he couldn't. He just couldn't. Instead, he planted a hard, quick kiss on his mouth and said, "Gotta go."
When Brian reached the door, he again felt a familiar pang of guilt. He took one last look at a forlorn Justin and sarcastically quipped, "Don't wait up."
Now Justin was really worried. Brian was definitely going through some kind of internal turmoil. It began when he found out about Debbie's cancer diagnosis. He thought they were past all this. But Brian was shutting him out, yet again. They were back to square one, with Brian escaping to Babylon to fuck himself into oblivion. As much as he loved Brian, Justin didn't think he could go through this again. What the fuck was he going to do?
Brian stood at the bar, drink in hand perusing the dance floor. A hot twink was staring at him, his toned body glistening with sweat under the flashing lights, his blue eyes beckoning. It was good to know that he still had it after all these years. However, he wasn't interested in him. Actually, he didn't want any of them, because they weren't Justin. Brian knew he was fucking up his relationship again with his boyfriend, but he couldn't help it. Deep down inside he knew he didn't deserve Justin or his love.
For the past week and a half Brian could only think of Debbie. She had been more of a mother to him than his own mother, the high and mighty Saint Joan. When he had cancer, Debbie was there for him, bringing him chicken soup and words of encouragement. She was the one person who always called him on his shit. Brian was pleased to hear the news that Debbie was going to try immunotherapy. However, his friend warned him that her chances of recovering were slim.
Either Michael or Carl would drive Debbie to the hospital to get her injection of Keytruda. Members of her "family" would visit almost daily to check up on her.
On this particular day, Justin came. He didn't seem like himself and Debbie quickly weaseled the reason out of him. It seemed that Brian was spending most nights at Babylon. When Debbie suggested he talk with Brian, rather than keep it pent up inside, Justin told her that Brian wouldn't talk to him. She wasn't surprised that Brian was acting this way.
"Don't worry, Sunshine. Be patient with him and I'm sure he'll surprise you one day."
As the treatments progressed, Debbie became more and more tired. She also started experiencing some of the other nasty side effects, such as nausea and bouts of diarrhea. Fortunately, they were not an every day occurrence. They would come and go. When Debbie was feeling okay, she labeled them her "good days", but when she wasn't feeling well, she referred to them as her "shitty days" (her attempt at some humor to lighten the situation). Her family would always show their concern and ask how she was feeling. They never directly addressed Debbie having cancer and the possibility that she may die.
In the six weeks since Debbie had begun the Keytruda infusions, Brian did come visit once with Ted after work, but made an excuse to leave early. When Justin pressed him for an answer as to why he had only visited Debbie once, Brian had mumbled that he was extremely busy at work. Justin was trying to be patient, but every day he felt like they were growing farther and farther apart. They barely interacted anymore, let alone talk with each other.
The time had come for Debbie to have tests to see if her treatment was working. Carl came to the hospital with her for support. Debbie asked if they could make a stop at the hospital chapel before undergoing the tests. Every bone in her body ached. Another one of the lovely side effects of the medication.
Michael was freaking out at work because Carl thought it best that he didn't come. He had promised to call Michael first if they heard anything, good or bad.
After the tests were finished, Debbie and Carl were directed to the waiting area in Dr. Tate's office. It seemed like forever before they were ushered into the office. Debbie squeezed Carl's hand in anticipation of what Dr. Tate was going to say.
"Mr. and Mrs. Horvath," Dr. Tate acknowledged them with a nod. "Sorry to keep you waiting, but I've just now received all of your results."
"As you know we ran a myriad of tests, among them blood tests and a pet scan. We're very thorough here and leave no margin for error."
Carl couldn't wait any longer. "Well? Did it work?"
The little hesitation before he spoke told Debbie all she needed to know, before the words even came out of his mouth.
"I'm afraid it's not what we've hoped for. The treatment has not had any affect on the tumors. In fact, they're growing."
"What does that mean?" Carl questioned. "That's it? There's nothing else you can try?"
Debbie sat there very still and quiet. Dr. Tate looked at Debbie.
"We could try to continue the Keytruda for a longer period."
Debbie finally broke out of her trance, "But there's no guarantee that it will work?"
"No. I'm afraid the probability of that happening is almost non-existent. The side effects would also increase."
"Then that's it." Debbie announced. "How much time do I have?"
"Weeks," the doctor's head was bowed when he said it, unwilling to meet Debbie's brazen stare.
"Don't you want to try..."
Debbie interrupted Carl, "No".
"But there is a small possibility..."
"Carl, I am not going to take something that's going to make me feel like shit all the time. I want to be able to enjoy the time I have left with my family."
"Okay, okay." Carl acquiesced, still terrified by the thought of losing her. "It's your decision."
"Yes, it is." Debbie said curtly. Then, she calmly turned to Dr.Tate and thanked him for all his help, reassuring him that he did the best he could.
Carl and the doctor both were amazed that Debbie was not a hysterical mess. Dr. Tate admired the woman's courage and poise. He stood up to walk with them to the door.
The Horvaths shook the doctor's hand and left. On the ride home Debbie remained deep in thought. Carl was at a loss for what to say. His 54 year old wife was told a couple of hours ago that she had about a month to live. He was devastated and visibly shaken.
Carl parked in front of the house and stayed frozen behind the wheel for a few minutes. Debbie, who had accepted her fate, finally turned to him and exclaimed, "How the fuck are we going to tell the family?"
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