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

“Dude, when you get the all clear I am throwing a huge party. All your friends are going to be there and we’ll have so much fun that you’ll forget about the last few months for the whole night.” Pete chirped through the computer speakers. “I may have to borrow your house though. I promise to clean it afterwards?”

Brendon sighed and leant forward towards the computer screen about to speak when Jon cut him off.

“I second that!” He yelled from somewhere near the kitchen.

“You better not be eating all my food.” Brendon grumbled loud enough for Jon to hear.

“Now why would I do that?” Jon laughed followed by an obvious sound of a food packet opening.
Brendon looked back to the computer screen to see Pete snickering. Pete’s smiled faded though when Brendon pressed his lips into a flat line and looked down at the keyboard.

“I don’t think I want to have a party. Like,” Brendon continued cutting off Pete’s protest. “If you guys want to do that for me, thank you, but not at least until I get the defiant all clear and had time to get things back together.”

“Of course,” Jon said from the kitchen. “And if you don’t want one we’ll just have a get together or something-“

“Can we not talk about it?” Brendon talked over Jon. “I don’t want to think about it when no one is sure what the outcome will be.”

Both Pete and Jon fell silent and Brendon kept his head down so he wouldn’t have to meet anyone’s eyes. After a couple of seconds, footsteps approached the lounge room doorway but didn’t go any further.

Taking a slow breath and letting it out, Brendon finally looked up at Pete on the computer screen. He looked almost worried.

“Okay. That’s good news from the doctor though, I’m glad your latest test turned out good.” Pete said bringing back a smile.

Brendon managed a smile before an awkward silence started filling the air. Pete reached over out of the camera’s view and messed around with stuff as Jon slowly made his way into the room. He offered Brendon a biscuit out of the pack he was holding. Brendon shook his head.

“So...” Pete said trying to find something to talk about to fill the silent gap. “Apparently you two made a song about gummy bears?”

“I’ll get the guitar!” Jan called already walking out the room, biscuits still in hand.

Brendon nodded and picked up his water bottle. Pete shot him another worried look and Brendon pretended not to notice, grateful that no one was pushing the subject.

*

They were in the middle of a new round of Crash Team Racing and Brendon was winning, by almost a whole lap though Spencer had the Penguin character, when the game was paused. Brendon started at his cart halfway in the air to jump over the wall and frowned. There was no way of making it now and he was going to crash once the game was resumed.

He glanced at Spencer and got a glare in return. Spencer put his controller down and turned to face Brendon, raising an eyebrow.

“If I got you a bag of sour worms, would that cheer you up already?” Spencer asked pulling Brendon’s controller away when he went to unpause the game.

Brendon shrugged and half-heartedly tried to get the controller back. Spencer put it out of reach and sat there staring like he was waiting for an actual answer. Sighing and trying not to roll his eyes Brendon sunk back into the couch.

“Considering that I doubt it would be a good idea to eat them, probably not.” He shrugged.

“Chocolate?”

“Same thing and I still got some in the fridge that Dallon gave me.”

“Beer?” Spencer asked gaining a look from Brendon. “You can’t drink. I know.”

Brendon frowned. It had been ages since he last had a stubby, probably back on the last tour which sucked because drinking sounded like a good option right now, to help him relax a little at least.
Spencer sighed and lifted his hand up in an ‘I surrender’ motion.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or are you going to mope all day?” Spencer’s eyes bunched in worry. “If you don’t want to tell me, that fine but could you at least let me win one race then?”

Looking away from Spencer, Brendon glanced at the TV screen before letting his eyes drift down to his lap. He stayed quiet for a moment longer and Spencer gave up, reaching for Brendon’s controller to hand back.

“I should be happy I only have two treatments left but I’m kinda not,” Brendon admitted.

Spencer froze and slowly looked back at Brendon placing the game controller back down. He waited silently for Brendon to continue.

“I’m sort of scared. A lot scared.” Brendon’s voice started talking on a soft edge. “What if the chemo doesn’t work? Like, what if I have to continue the treatment? I don’t want to get to the end thinking it’s finished and finding out that it’s not, that I have to keep going like this for a few weeks, months yet.”

“The doctor said there was a low chance of that happening, right?” Spencer asked.

Brendon nodded but didn’t look away from his hands, curled into fists in his lap.

“All you tests have been coming back good so far and none of yous scans have found anything, so the chemo has to be working.”

“I know, but...”

Shrugging one shoulder, Brendon finally looked up at Spencer and tried to school his facing into something more unreadable but the look on Spencer’s face stopped him. Spencer slid over on the couch and wrapped an arm around Brendon’s shoulders. It was a little awkward with Brendon sitting so far back into the chair but they both ignored that.

“Is it bad that I’m scared?” Brendon mumbled leaning his head on Spencer’s shoulder.

Spencer tightened his arm.

“It would be bad if you weren’t.”

*

“Brendon’s down again.”

“Yeah,” Ryan sighed. “I noticed.”

“What do you think we could do to cheer him up?” Spencer asked, his voice was grainy through the phone line like something was interfering. “I don’t know about you but I’m running out of ideas.”

“Do you think we should call someone to come and visit, like family or something?” Ryan suggested.

“It wouldn’t hurt to ask around, see if anyone can, that would cheer him up a bit. They can stay at my place, that way when Brendon is sick they won’t have to see the worst of that, because that would stress Brendon out more.”

“I’ll call around tonight.”

Jon snored loudly from the end of the couch and Ryan kicked him. Jon stirred but didn’t wake up.

*

“I’m sure this room hasn’t changed since I first came here.” Brendon blurted before mentally kicking himself.

Dr Carol laughed and Brendon looked away from her towards the floor where his foot was tapping nervously against the ground. He hadn’t realised he was doing it and quickly crossed his ankles.

“You’re white blood count is back to where it was at the beginning of the treatment, which is great. Everything else looks alright, the chemo levels are good, no infections...nothing to worry about.” Dr Carol said while scanning the computer screen. “I’m quite happy with this.”

Brendon looked up from the floor, some of the nerves fading away as he beamed. Dr Carol glanced at him and smiled back.

“For right now it looks quite promising as long as your white blood count stays stable from yesterday’s treatment. I want you to have a blood test done next week so the results will be back before you head into the last session on the course.” Dr Carol instructed. “I also want you to make an appointment when you leave shortly for after the last treatment, to book scans and other tests to do a check that everything is clear.”

Brendon nodded and listed as she continued to talk about what tests he’ll have done and what they will be looking for in said tests.

It was exciting but scary that this was almost over. Just one chemo session left but knowing that this wasn’t over just yet. Until he was told he’s in remission nothing was over yet but it felt like the war was heading towards closer and Brendon hoped that the path wouldn’t stray before he got there.

As he walked out of the doctor’s office ten minutes later Brendon let out a deep breath and decided to push the information in to the back of his head until he got home. For now he wanted to celebrate the fact his white blood cell count was back up finally after the last hospital scare.

On the way home he stopped to get an icecream, though he really should not be having one, but figured he deserved it. A small win still counted.