You're My Way Home, You're My Backbone.

Brendon literally wasn’t even through the front door of Spencer’s house before he received text messages from his parents, siblings, Dallon, Ken, Zack and Pete while Spencer and Jon stood in the doorway with hawk eyes scanning his face for any clues on how the doctor visit went down. He appreciated that they all cared so much, really, but it was a bit of an over load.

He realised then why he didn’t exactly tell everyone when he saw the doctor and visited, called, emailed or texted everyone with the news after he found out himself. His parents got frustrated with that but it did save them from the worry of waiting and ringing Brendon constantly until he had the appointment. It’s not like he is never going to tell them even if the news is good.

“So?” Jon prodded stepping out of the way to make room for him and Ryan to enter the house.

Spencer’s eyes never moved, drilling holes straight through him in a way that screamed ‘spit it out already!’.

“So,” Brendon repeated. “Mostly good news. She said the chemo dosage it at the right level and working, but my while blood cell could is a little low.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Spencer asked closing the door.

“It can be if it gets too low, mines still in the healthy range just on the lower end of the scale. Chemo does that apparently.”

“White blood cells are what your immune system is, basically.” Ryan added knowingly.

Ryan nudged his way through all the bodies standing in the hallway and flopped down on the couch in the living room, placing his feet on the coffee table. The other slowly trailed after sitting or standing around the room.

Brendon fished out his phone making a face when seeing the amount of text messages he had.
“I have to have bi-weekly blood tests from now on rather than before each treatment to keep an eye on it.” He explained absently opening up messages.

He snorted at one Pete sent, something about making flags and shirt supporting Jon in being the best pool played he knew ever. He obviously didn’t get the memo that though Jon is awesome at pool, not even he could beat Zach.

“What would happen if it gets too low?” Jon asked curious but with an underlying tone of worry that made Brendon look up.

“Well, I’ll have to be admitted into hospital and put on antibiotics and other meds.” Brendon ran a hand through his hair. “Dr Carol doubts it could get that bad because I’m not on the real strong doses of chemo. But everyone reacts differently and I’m not exactly half way yet. So...yeah.”

Spencer and Jon nodded as Ryan stared across the room silently already knowing all of this. The doctor explained it pretty well and in actual English that wasn’t in doctor’s mumbo-jumbo. She even drew diagrams and went through text book photos to make sure they understood.

Brendon let out a deep breath and looked back to his phone. He opened a mass message that he could send to everyone at once.

Spencer walked out the room silently and came back a moment later with a large bottle of orange juice and four cups.

“Well, it’s still good news.” Spencer pointed out. “And I have a kitchen full of frozen pizzas, the pool table is set and I dragged the old PS2 out along with my movie collection. Let’s have some fucking fun!” He grinned holding the bottle of orange juice up.

Everyone knew it was a half assed attempt to cheer everyone up, but everyone went along with it.
“I call dibs on the m&m’s!” Jon yelled quickly running to the kitchen.

Brendon sent the message on his phone and looked up with a smile on his face. Really, Spencer sort of did have a point. It was good news and they were having a fast-becoming-regular-night of hanging out to relax, to forget everything that was going on even for a few minutes. Why not make the most of it while they had it?

Brendon took the cup he was offered taking a small sip. It was the first bit of non watered down juice he’s had in a while thanks to his stomach, it went down nicely.

“Hey Spencer, where’s the m&m’s?” Jon called a few minutes later.

Spencer smirked sitting back comfortable on the couch while pulling out a half empty packet of said chocolate from his pocket. He handed it to Ryan who was trying not to laugh.

“I dunno, they should be there somewhere!”

*

The outside air was cool to the touch and crisp on the lunges. Not exactly cold but not all that warm either, though with the heat radiating from Brendon’s skin was very welcomed. No one would have guessed playing a few games of pool could get a person so heated, but with the way they were playing it wasn’t all that much of a surprise.

The neighbours probably thought they were watching some sports game on TV with all the yelling that was going on.

Brendon looked across the dark backyard before trailing his eyes back to his phone. The small glow lit up his face for a second before he pressed it face down on his thigh. It seemed that everyone that had been texting all night has stopped. It was good in a way because now he didn’t have to talk about hospitals, doctor and treatment for a while.

Suddenly the backdoor slip open followed by light footsteps. Brendon didn’t bother to look up.
“What’s a pretty girl like you, doing in a place like this?”

Brendon smiled as Jon sat down next to him, leaning against the cool brick wall. Jon nudged him playfully in the ribs making Brendon squirm and finally look up.

“Trying to think of how you and Spencer cheated. Mostly you though,” Brendon grinned.
“Any conclusions?”

“You have remote controlled pool balls. When no one is watching you pull the end of the stick off and press the buttons to make the ball move to what part of the table you want them to go. Either that or you have one of your cats under the table strapped with a magnet.” Brendon nodded almost like he was proud of himself with those ideas.

And he was, seeing as he was pulling them out of his ass on the spot. Jon laughed amused pulling his legs up to his chest while shuffling closer to Brendon. He wasn’t wearing a jumper.

“How does my cat know when to move then?”

“When you tap your foot,” Brendon nodded. “You tap you foot n differed beats to mean differed places under the table and which way your cat as to walk. Totally a solid proof plan.” Brendon beamed tapping his forehead.

“Until the cat gets bored,” Jon laughed.

“That’s why you put cat toys dangling from the bottom of the table. I knew you were smart Jon, but wow.”

They both laughed and Jon patted Brendon on the head. Brendon ducked swatting Jon’s hand away half-heartily. The two settled and Brendon looked back across the yard towards the back fence almost expecting stars to be dancing along the horizon. But being in a city as bright as this one all he could see was shinning bits of street lights and a faded purple haze edging the empty midnight black of the sky.

It was still pretty, though not as much as looking at real stars. He missed that about being on tour and stopping at night in the middle of nowhere.

It was quiet between them for a few long minutes. Echo’s of either Ryan or Spencer moving things in the kitchen could be heard though the glass door and the odd car driving past the house the only main noises, for a Saturday night it was quiet and nice.

“Didn’t think it would be this cold out here.” Jon whispered after a while.

Brendon hummed agreeing, now that he had the chance to sit and calm down, he was finally starting to feel the chilly air. Though maybe it had gotten cold the last few minutes from what it was before. He didn’t make a move to get up though.

Jon wrapped his arms around his midsection and brought his legs up closer. He glanced at Brendon and let out a slow breath.

“You don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to,” Jon said suddenly catching Brendon’s attention away from the sky. “How have you been? For real, lately.”

Brendon blinked at the question, taken back. No one really asked that anymore, it was just a small ‘how are you?’ which basically translated into, how are you going with the chemo? Are you taking your meds? Are you eating and sleeping properly? What did the doctor say?!

No one asked about the emotional side of things and Brendon knew that Jon meant it that way by how he asked, honestly wanting a true answer. He was stumped on what to say.

“Honestly?” He asked even though he knew the answer.

Jon nodded, waiting, face calm.

“Uh, well still overwhelmed I guess. In a way it doesn’t feel like it had truly sunk in yet, but in another it has.” Brendon said slowly trying to pick out words that made sense. “I don’t really think about it much anymore, because it stresses me out. I still freak during random moment or when I go in for appointments, but I’m trying to get in the mind of worry about today instead of tomorrow, next week or next month.”

Jon nodded thoughtfully as his lips twitch down slightly. He tried to imagine himself in Brendon’s shoes, but couldn’t.

“I guess I’m afraid to think about it more then I really have to, ‘cause then I’d totally have a panic attack or something. You know?” Brendon asked unsure, hoping that Jon would understand even just a little.

“Yeah, I do. I try not to think about it much either. Because, well, thinking about it reminds me of the fact that how my best friend and one of the closest person in my life is going though this that, yea, it can happen to anyone. No one is safe.”

Looking down at his feet Brendon bit down hard on his lip, almost enough to cut the soft tissue. With a shocked jerk he let it go.

“It’s amazing how so many of us think ‘oh, that won’t happen to me’ isn’t it?” Brendon mumbled.
“Yeah.” Jon breathed.

And it was. At least everyone thought that one in their life at some point. It was the biggest lie anyone could tell themselves. Brendon was bright enough not to think that there was never a chance he could get something like cancer, for an example, but he never expected it to happen and if it did, then not for a few years yet. Not this young.

Brendon shuddered at the thought of kids having to battle cancer and chemotherapy. Or anyone for that matter and he was a lucky one, others got it so much worse than what his going through right now.

“I think that’s all anyone can really do. Just worry about today, right now because you never know what is going to happen tomorrow.” Jon said softly, looking up at the dark sky.

“Exactly,” Brendon agreed. “Stressing won’t so shit in the end. Easy said than done but.”

Jon let out an empty laugh nodding in agreement. Brendon hummed picking at the loose threads dangling around the small hole in his jeans.

A semi loud squawk came from inside followed by loud laughing and a small crash. Brendon looked through what he could see of the backdoor and caught a small glimpse of movement but not enough to figure out what moved.

“Five bucks Ryan didn’t wait for the popcorn to cool before he took it out the microwave.” Jon murmured through a smile still looking up at the sky.

*

By the time Brendon finally went inside, he could no longer feel his face, nose or feet. He shivered harshly when he pulled the backdoor open and a wave of heat drifted over his skin. Jon had fled the cold a while ago when Spencer came to announce they were starting a game was of either Crash Team Racing or Mario Cart. Brendon stayed outside mostly to think, but when he opened the door and realised how cold he really was, he kind of wished he moved earlier.

Loud cheering and playful banner was echoing from the lounge room. Wrapped his arms around himself, Brendon walked in there and squeezed into the empty spot on the end of the couch that Ryan was spread across.

They were playing CTR and considering Spencer had pulled out the old Play Station it wasn’t a surprise.

“Who’s winning?” Brendon asked after a couple of races.

A chorus of three ‘me’s rang out and he snorted. Looking at the screen it was obvious that none of them were anywhere near first in the current race – the stupid fucking polar bear was first followed by the even more annoying tiger.

The playful banner started up again and Brendon looked away from the screen towards the fireplace where small flames were flickering behind the glass. The coffee table in front of him was covered in bowls of all different types of popcorn and soft drink cans, even a couple of beer stubbies were lost within the mess.

Beneath the stack of magazines on the end of the table was a while piece of paper sticking out. From first glance Brendon knew what it was, the Thank You letter. The little fold marks and scribbles marks along the edge of the page gave it away.

Brendon sort of felt like reaching forward and tucking it under the books so no one could accidently find it there and read it. It was a stupid feeling, because the only people likely to see it was in this room already; one write it, one typed it and the other two probably already seen it on the site at some point.

He wondered if Spencer gave in and ready any comments yet, or not. Brendon turned his head to look at Spencer sitting across the room, teeth chewing on his tongue in concentration and fingers making precise movements on the game control. If he had seen them, he hasn’t shown or said anything about it since the day he went to Brendon’s house to talk about it.

Brendon still didn’t feel all that brave about it, but felt like he was ready to look now. But now wasn’t the time, not with the bright smiles on the guys faces, having fun and forgetting about the stress while they could and Brendon couldn’t ruin tonight for them because he wanted to look.
He had time, there was no rush.

“You alright there, Bren?” Ryan asked tapping Brendon’s thigh with his foot.

Brendon blinked quickly and looked over at him. He smiled with a small nod.

“Just thinking.”

Ryan looked at him for a minute before reaching his arm out with the game controller.
“There are only three controls, the other one’s wires were eaten by something. Beat these two cheaters for me would you,” Ryan smiled as Jon and Spencer protested loudly.

“Sure thing. I’m like the CTR master.” Brendon drawled.

Before the other two could complain anymore Brendon quickly went into the track selection, choosing Polar Pass on seven laps. Jon and Spencer groaned in fake agony as Brendon smirked, placing his feet up on the coffee table over the stack of magazines, hiding the note from view to think about later.