Disease

“I really think yeh should go 'ave a visit to Oliver’s,” Carol said, placing her hand upon her youngest son. He was sitting at their kitchen table, cereal crowding his mouth while he chewed loudly. It was the best way to block out any and all sounds of the things he didn’t want to hear. Mainly, his thoughts.

After last night, the entire Sykes family had been more than a little shaken up. Oliver and Afton left just an hour after admitting the truth about Afton’s condition. Carol insisted that she went home with them, to take care of Afton in the way she treated her like her own daughter. Oliver was quiet most of the night, his worst fears coming to face him while he was in the vulnerable state of being in front of anyone but Afton. Things were just wrong now.

Ian and Tom were about on the same level of shock, not knowing what to say or how to act. The best thing to do was not say a word, to keep their thoughts safe inside their head so as not to disrupt anything further. That was the last thing that the family needed now.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Tom muttered before shoveling another spoonful of cereal into his mouth.

“I just think yeh should, alrigh'? Yer ‘is brother. He’ll listen teh yeh when 'e won’t listen teh anyone else. An’ I can’t go over because I know Afton won’t 'ave it, if she’s been havin' a 'ard enough time lettin' Oliver take care of 'er. Sometimes yer the only one that can help, Tommy.”

Carol patted him once more on the shoulder, slowly padding away out of the kitchen and to the living room.

Tom finished his cereal and headed for the front door. Sometimes Oliver just needed someone to talk to. And if he was having troubles with Afton he certainly wouldn’t be talking to her about them.

The cold air outside nipped at his face as he walked briskly down the pavement and to his car. The smooth leather was unforgiving and chilly, slow to warm up as he headed out of his parents’ neighborhood and to Oliver and Afton’s flat. All he could hope was that this wouldn’t cause a fight between them; now that he was only trying to help and be a good brother, he would only be getting in the way. When it came to Oliver, you had to be careful.

Everyone had learned that.

Afton came to the door when Tom knocked, his knuckles softly rapping the wood of their door. Her eyes were dull like they had been for weeks now, and her cheeks had lost that unique rose tint that had been with her since she had been introduced to him. Everything was different now. And now that Tom knew what the cause of it was, he hated that it all had to be put on Afton.

She didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve a fraction of what she had gone through. What Oliver had put her through. What her body was putting her through now.

“Is Oli 'ere?” His voice was soft, fearing that if he spoke too loudly somehow he could hurt Afton. She looked that breakable now as she opened the door for him to step in.

“N-no,” she stammered. Tom caught the way the back of her hand slyly reached up to wipe away what she thought would be an invisible tear. “I-I don’t know where 'e went, either.”

There were a few moments of silence. Tom took in for the hundredth time how fragile, broken Afton was. And now that he knew the cause of it all, it still didn’t make it any more right.

“Did yeh--”

“Yes we got in a fight!” She snapped, groaning and sinking down onto the couch that was only feet away. Her head was buried in her hands, more tears soon to spill while she wiped them away recklessly.

It didn’t matter how fast she wiped them away, it didn’t mean she wasn’t hurt.

Tom sighed. He was here to help. And if Oliver wasn’t here, then he’d be helping Afton. It was easy to take note on how they were such a sad couple now, nothing compared to the thousand-watt bulb they had been for the past two years. It was sickening how fast things could change in a matter of weeks, a matter of days. A matter of a few words enlightening Afton why she had been spitting up blood.

“When did 'e leave?” Tom asked quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper while he sat down on the edge of the couch. He didn’t want to come to close to Afton, to frighten her or anything. But the best he could do was let her know she wasn’t alone.

“Just 'bout 'alf an hour ago,” she choked out, a few more tears spilling only to be slapped away. It didn’t mean Tom couldn’t see them.

Silence enveloped them while they sat on the couch. Afton felt beside herself. Her elbows resting on her knees while her hands cupped around her face. There was never a better way for Oliver to make her feel alone than to storm out on her. It had happened so many times before when he had left her. It was only a reminder of the years ago when he had left all those nights, only to come home the next morning. Eventually she was told he was cheating on her. And every time after that when he had left, that feeling of being sick to her stomach arrived, never to leave until Oliver returned home again.

“Do yeh want to tell meh what 'appened?”

Tom was trying his hardest. He was good at listening. But he wasn’t the best at trying to get someone to talk. And he could tell already that Afton would be a tough case.

She took a deep breath, trying to prepare what she would say. What she could say. Not many words were readily available to her at the moment. It was hard for her to choose the right ones.

“I don’t even know 'ow it 'appened,” she started quietly. “I told 'im that I felt bad for not tellin' yeh lot earlier, that I should 'ave. Yeh all are my family now, yeh know that. And 'e just said that it was fine, that as long as they knew now it would all be okay, that they would be there for me. An' I started cryin', ‘cause I felt guilty, and ’m still scared. Then Oliver told meh teh calm down, and then I started screamin’ and 'e got mad. And then we were both yellin’ about nothin’. And then 'e left.”

Tom sat in silence, listening to the labored breaths coming from Afton while hiccups slipped from her lips. He stared at the floor, his eyes darting about the room while he tried not to look at the vulnerable Afton sitting next to him. He scooted towards her on the couch. It was meant to be some form of comfort, a physical sign that he was here for her, even if he had not an idea of what he could begin to say.

He wanted to defend his brother and tell her that this was just as hard on him. He wanted to share that Oliver was scared too, that he couldn’t handle the way Afton constantly dwelled on the end of her life. It was bound to bring down everyone around her. And Oliver was the closest person.

“I’m so scared he’s going to cheat on meh again,” she choked. “I’m so scared he’s goin' to go back to SJ. Yeh 'ave no idea how scared I am.”

Tom scooted closer again. His arm reached out, curling around her thin shoulders and resting there lightly. He was testing the water, trying to gauge how safe it was to attempt comforting her. She sure as hell needed it, as much as she wanted to push herself away from everyone at the moment.

“Can yeh not see how much 'e loves yeh, Af?” Tom said, minor frustration laced through his voice. Everyone had heard about how much Oliver loved Afton. They had been hearing it weeks before he got the guts to ask her to be his girlfriend. They still heard about it, two years later.

And, at one time, Afton believed that. She relished in having someone who was only hers, adoring to only her. For once, someone was there.

And then he was gone.

Then he had gotten lost, confused, mixed up, and decided on a whim to cheat on her. He never thought it would hurt her that bad. He never thought she would find out.

Oliver never thought that to this day she would still be scared. That it would only take a few hours over coffee with the same girl that caused Afton’s fear to ruin it all again. Only a few text messages discovered in the wrong hands.

“I don’t know if I can see it anymore,” she breathed. “He went out with her again, and I just don’t think it’s there anymore.”

Those words made even Tom want to get stern. He wanted to show her, to tell her that anyone who had ever talked to Oliver could describe his love for Afton. Today it was still there, even if Afton couldn’t see it and even if Oliver had a hard time showing it. But it was there, and just about anyone who had talked to Afton would be just as frustrated with her as Tom was.

“Yer goin' teh need teh start loving yerself again if you want to realize how much Oliver still loves yeh,” Tom quipped, his voice short, slight exasperation taking over while he still tried to be comforting. It was a small segment of tough love, carefully exercised so as to not anger Afton with his terseness.

“How am I supposed to love myself when I’m goin' teh die?!” Her voice wasn’t saturated with tears anymore. Afton’s reaction to Tom’s advice was the reaction he had been hoping to avoid. She was trudging up the hill of anger, the trek she seemed to make daily.

“And 'ow can you always be thinkin’ about dying? Af, I love yeh like a sister. And I really hate seein’ you like this, seein’ Oliver like this. Yeh can’t think like that Afton, yeh just can’t.” Tom’s voice had picked up speed during the middle of his statement, cooling down by the end to just a soft tone.

Unfortunately, despite his efforts, Afton had sprung to her feet now, standing in front of him with her chest heaving all of a sudden.

“How can I think 'bout anything else Tom? It gets a little hard when I’m tossin’ up blood every day, coughin' up a lung, and there’s nothin’ teh even be done about it! This is a life-threatening disease, Thomas. It gets a bit 'ard eh focus on the present when the amount of breaths left in meh are numbered!”

The most heartbreaking fact was that she was more than oblivious to the ways in which she dragged everyone down now. Only Afton was unable to see that her constant talk of death scared the living daylights out of Oliver. For him to face that his love could die was torture enough as it is, and hearing an earful about it everyday made it that much worse. She just didn’t understand.

Tears streaked down her cheeks and Tom sat there on the couch, dumbfounded. He blinked as he watched her stand there before him, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she began coughing, lunging out of the room where he heard her run to the bathroom. The mixed noises of coughing were sickeningly obvious, he heard her spit into the sink, washing some water over what he guessed was blood.

Her sobs were still audible from the bathroom down the hall while he remained seated on the couch.

“Don’t yeh even try to tell me this ain’t threatenin’ my life, and that I shouldn’t
be thinking about it.” Afton whispered harshly, fixing her hair and staring at the red lines appearing in the whites of her eyes.