Chapter Text
Liam can feel the vibrations of his phone against his leg as he’s sitting through the last twenty minutes of the school day, pretending to be listening to Mrs Finch talking about photosynthesis. It’s making him restless, not that he’s been a very good listener in biology before. He simply doesn’t care about it, he’s clearly not following in his stepdad’s footsteps and becoming a doctor.
Once again, time rudely refuses to pass, and his phone receiving a few more messages before the bell rings absolutely doesn’t help Liam’s impatience. He wonders who they could be from, since his parents never text him while he’s in school, and almost all of his friends are sitting in the same or any other classroom with him at the moment. But Liam has a friend outside of school as well, and frankly, the thought that it could be her renders him nervous.
As soon as last period is over, he rushes outside, doesn’t bother getting his jacket from his locker or putting the heavy biology textbook back in there, he just moves ahead with one hand cupping his phone through the pocket of his jeans as if to make sure he can’t lose it. Liam exhales deeply as he leaves the school grounds and turns around the next corner, leaning against a cool wall while his hands fumble with his pants to free the phone.
He doesn’t know what exactly he’s afraid of, or why he always automatically assumes the worst, but something in the air around him is giving him chills, and it’s dumb, yes, but he has a feeling, an irk somewhere inside him, and it won’t leave him alone, and so his fingers are a little shaky as he clicks on the notification stating that he has eight unread messages from Tara.
They all come down to the same thing: I need you. Can you come help me find my brother?
Liam doesn’t even have to think about it. He’s moving and on his way over to the hospital before he can begin to wonder what can possibly have happened. He’s known Tara for years now, and her brother Theo almost as long. She’s been a patient at the hospital for most of those years, one of Liam’s stepdad’s patients, and Theo has been the only person to spend more time sitting by her bed and keeping her company than Liam. By now, they’re friends, close friends, although Liam often feels like there are more mysteries about Theo than things he knows about the boy.
On my way, he texts back before he falls into a steady jog. Tara wouldn’t be asking him to come to the hospital if it wasn’t urgent. Something must have happened, Liam knows it. It’s not exactly unusual for Theo to disappear from time to time. He needs space, needs to be alone, needs to drive his truck out of town and get away, and who could blame him? Certainly not Liam. Because he might not be much into the medical details, but what he knows is bad enough.
Tara has blood and bone marrow cancer, has been fighting it almost all her life, and Theo has saved his sister’s life on more than one or two occasions by donating blood and bone marrow. And still, after years spent in hospitals and afraid of needles, after surgeries and pain and tears, after goodbyes and unexpected recoveries - he’s still watching his only sister dying.
Usually, Tara’s the one to ask everybody else for patience with her little brother. She covers for him in front of their parents, pretends not to know where he is, promises Liam that Theo will be back and alright in no time when Liam gets anxious. And that’s what makes panic rise up inside Liam now, because if Tara needs to find Theo, if Tara is actually worried about him being gone, if Tara is scared for once, then there sure is a good reason. Liam moves faster, starts running.
***
Tara is sitting in her stupid hospital bed, wearing her stupid hospital gown, the tray with the stupid hospital food sitting on the little table next to her, untouched, of course. She doesn’t have time for that right now. This time, she has no idea where Theo is. He usually tells her when he leaves and where he goes, or if he doesn’t, then he lets her know shortly after via text message. He knows exactly that she worries when he doesn’t, and worrying his sister is so unlike Theo that it can only mean two things. He either can’t text her - the possible reason in that scenario is something she doesn’t even want to think about, or he’s so mad that he thinks she deserves it.
As much as it hurts, Tara would prefer the second option. In moments like this one, she hates the hospital so much, hates the weakness of her own body and the tubes in her nose providing her with air. She feels utterly powerless. If she can’t even breathe on her own, how is she supposed to look after her little brother?
Of course, Theo is not that little. He just turned eighteen and with the beard and all the muscles he’s been building, he looks so much unlike the people Tara is used to from the hospital that it’s almost comical. If the siblings are two halves of a whole, then Theo is the better half in every possible way. He’s not just strong, he’s handsome. The same green shines from both their eyes, but in Theo’s face it looks magically beautiful while the glow only makes Tara look sick. He’s smart, incredibly smart and about to finish high school with excellent grades in spite of absolutely never studying or putting any other kind of remarkable effort in it.
Admittedly,Theo’s sense of humor is arguable at best, but the important thing is that he’s kind. Theo has been there for as long as Tara can remember, always at the side of her bed, holding her hand, painting her nails although he hates the smell of nail polish, watching tv shows with her that he always says are girl stuff, but pays incredibly close attention to.
Her brother has saved Tara’s life on numerous occasions, but if she made a list with all the reasons why she loves him, none of the countless donations would even make it on the first page. She loves him the most for the stories he’s read her and the encouragement when she’s been afraid of a surgery or a new therapy method. For the flowers he’s brought her, not those ridiculously huge bouquets that smell like the guilt of a relative who hasn’t visited in two years, but small ones, plucked from an actual meadow, colorful and small enough to put it behind her ear. Sometimes, he makes her flower crowns.
She loves him for the deck of cards he gave her for her sixteenth birthday, every single card designed by himself, drawn and painted with loving detail. She loves him for their inside jokes and the game they play where they sit in the hospital hallway and make up a dramatic life story for every passing visitor or patient. She loves him for the tons of actual food he sneaks in for her, especially the white chocolate. He always ends up eating more of it than she does, but Tara doesn’t mind it.
Other than her, Theo has a life. He goes to school and meets people, he’s free to go wherever he wants and frankly, neither of their parents has the energy to control him very much. He’s young and so pretty that it’s gross, and when someone wants to get to know him, he can tell them about other things than his friends the nurses or the latest cancer drug or what it feels like to be suffering from a terminal illness. Tara loves Theo for endless reasons, and then there’s one she can’t help but hate him for. He’s healthy.
It’s wrong. It’s all wrong and Tara knows it. She knows that none of her pain is his fault, on the contrary. If anything, Theo has made her life easier, better, has made the sorry excuse of a childhood and youth worth fighting through. He’s never asked for any of it either, and he’s been robbed of normalcy just as well, has sacrificed more than she even dares thinking about. But things are changing, possibly for the last time now, and although the thought of dying has been Tara’s most trusted companion for all her life, she still has to turn twenty-one in the fall, and she’s scared that she won’t.
Once again, Tara sits and stares down at her own hands, skin and bones and blue veins, hands that have been held only to comfort her, never because they’ve been warm or soft and she hates that, too, because dying at the age of twenty is one thing, but dying after twenty years that feel like hundred hospital years and two real life years is the ultimate punishment. She might as well have never lived to begin with. She could have saved Theo so much pain. She could have saved Theo.
The door opens. By the sound alone, Tara can tell who it is. There’s only one person ever visiting her who tears doors open like this, almost like they can’t wait for it to make way to let them pass, stepping inside the room with an energy that doesn’t fit the place at all.
“Liam,” she says, a strange and cruel mixture of relief and pain welling up inside her.
“What happened?” Liam asks breathlessly. His forehead is damp with sweat, his cheeks flushed, his hands a little shaky. Tara holds out a small bottle of water for him. Liam takes it, but he doesn’t allow himself to drink before he can shoot all the most important questions at her. “Are you alright? Where is Theo? Why is he not here? Is he okay? Do you need me to get him?”
And this is what Tara loves Liam for. As the son of Dr. Geyer, the head of the oncology department at Beacon Hills Memorial, Liam has spent a fair amount of time around sick and dying kids. He knows the smell of post-chemo vomit and the look of bald children heads. He’s familiar with the sounds of wailing mothers and what a family looks like when they go home with one kid less than they came with. Liam knows the misery. But what’s special about Liam is the way he deals with it.
Because Liam is always ready to fight. He’s so willing and prepared to take on the whole world that it gets exhausting sometimes. When Tara gets bad news and wants to hide beneath the blanket until the battle is over and Theo leaves her to it because he understands but Liam can’t stand the silence or the resignation, then she really wants to punch him sometimes. Not badly, not so much that it hurts - not that she’s even strong enough for that - but sometimes it’s too much, the hope and the excitement and the determination, because when you don’t allow yourself to believe in it, it can break your heart seeing that other people do.
At other times, Liam’s restless energy is exactly what Tara needs. She loves it when he goes into puppy mode and makes these pouty lips that, in combination with the big baby blue eyes, neither her nor Theo can deny anything. Liam is the only person who sees a hospital as the perfect place to play hide and seek, and when they get caught and lectured on appropriate behavior around cancer patients, the ridiculing roll of his eyes is absolutely priceless.
Tara can absolutely not imagine what her life would be like if she hadn’t met Liam all those years ago. Maybe she would have given up a long time ago. Because Liam is the only friend she’s ever had, not counting brothers or fellow cancer kids. There is at least one person though that Tara knows for a fact loves Liam more than she does, and that person is Theo. Although the two boys only ever met because of her and have spent close to zero time without her and outside of the hospital, their relationship is something that she’s never seen before.
The longing looks and the lingering touches, the blushing and the nervous giggles, the counting on each other, the silent understanding, the communication through a single nod of a head, the shared worries and the offered comfort, all of it makes Tara feel like this is what the romance movies she always watches are trying to sell her, but more, much more and more intense, burning brighter, sizzling and crackling like a fire. Sometimes, when their shoulders touch, she expects sparks to be emitted.
Tara exhales deeply. Liam is standing in front of her bed, looking at her expectantly, a silent plea in his eyes to tell him what’s going on, to relieve him of the worst case scenario he’s probably making up in his mind. She doesn’t know how to tell him the truth, because whatever his worst case scenario looks like, it’s probably not that far away from it.
“I got bad news, Liam,” she says, willing her voice strong and clear. Better make it quick and painful. “Can you sit down, please?” She pats the sheet next to her. It’s almost unbearable how afraid Liam looks. He hesitates for a moment and then settles down next to her, she slides her skinny hand in his. “I’m dying, Liam.”
“No you’re not!” is Liam’s immediate reaction. His body goes stiff, his fingers squeeze tight around Tara’s. She wants to laugh and cry at the same time. Liam doesn’t know, not yet, but he’s so sure that he can’t accept what she’s about to tell him that it touches something inside her that starts bleeding right away.
“I am,” she whispers. She never starts crying when she thinks about it on her own, only when she’s with those she’ll leave behind. “My kidneys are failing.” She gives Liam a minute to let the information sink in.
They told her a few days ago. She sees Liam’s eyes widening as he realizes that she’s not just having another depressive episode, that the signs are actually really, really bad for her. Liam doesn’t want to become a doctor like his stepdad, but he knows that a human needs at least one working kidney to live.
“No,” he shakes his head while he whispers, “no, no, no, no, no.”
“Yes,” Tara nods. She hates the tears that are streaming down his cheeks. She hates the reason for them. “My kidneys are failing and there is no donor in sight and by the time there is one, it might very well be too late.”
“What about Theo?” Liam asks with a sob. Tara understands. Theo has always been the first thought. His sister’s savior over and over again, but not this time.
“No, Liam,” she says quietly, wiping a tear away from his cheek. “Not anymore. Theo is eighteen now, and he’s decided he won’t do this any longer.”
“What?” Liam asks in surprise. “No! Why? He loves you. He doesn’t want you to die!”
“You are right,” Tara replies. Explaining this is so much harder than she expected, and she expected it to be awful. “Theo’s body belongs to him, Liam,” she continues. “Do you know what life with one kidney would be like? He would spend his whole life making doctor’s appointments every few months. He’d never get to play lacrosse again, or get drunk on a party. He could never travel the world or go backpacking in South America. He would always have to take care of himself, stay at home, be careful not to get a cold in the winter. That’s not a life, Liam.”
“Dying now is also not a life, Tara,” Liam protests, his eyes full of tears and anger.
“No, but I’ve always been the one to die young. Theo has suffered enough.” Thinking about her brother only makes the whole conversation worse. Tara is suddenly picturing baby Theo being held down on an operating table, crying and struggling and deadly afraid of needles.
“You’re telling me he doesn’t want to save your life? You’re lying!” Although his voice is on the verge of breaking, Liam is now almost shouting.
“Listen, Liam,” Tara says, reaching out for his wet cheek. “I need to tell you something about Theo.”
Liam doesn’t reply, he simply cries and nods.
“When Theo was born I was already sick,” she begins explaining, searching Liam’s eyes for understanding. “I got diagnosed with acute promyelocytic leukemia when I was less than two years old. One year later, I got a brother. What I didn’t know back then was that my parents hadn’t given me a little brother, they had provided me with a spare parts depot.”
“W-what?” Liam asks. “I don’t understand.”
“Theo was brought into this world as my savior, Liam,” Tara said. “They created him in a lab so that he’d be a compatible donor for me. He was a few months old when they took bone marrow from him for the first time. Do you know anything about that procedure?”
She can see in his eyes that he does, that he’s picturing the same giant needle pressing through the skin of an innocent little baby boy that she is. “Exactly,” she whispers. “Theo wouldn’t even be alive if it wasn’t for my cancer and that thought has been making me so sick, Liam.” She’s full on sobbing at this point. “I’m so sick of taking things from him. Blood, bone marrow, tissue, when will it ever stop? At a kidney? Or a few organs later?”
“I- I didn’t know that,” Liam whispers, the shock visible in his eyes.
“No, you didn’t,” Tara replisd softly. “You got to know Theo as the kind and loving and brave person that he is and you thought he must love his sister so much that he would do anything to save her. And you were not wrong, Liam. Nobody ever asked Theo before they went and took what they needed from him, but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t have given it anyway if they had. But this is too much, and I might still die after it, and Theo is now eighteen and has the right to decide for himself. And he has made his decision.”
“Why is he not here?” Liam wants to know.
Tara sighs, another wave of tears escaping her eyes. “He was earlier. And then our parents came barging in. They made a horrible scene.” Liam wraps his arms around her as he can see her breaking apart. “Mom basically blamed him for letting me die. It was so awful, Liam. I’ve never seen him so… helpless. He was so broken. And then he ran away, of course. I totally get it, but I don’t know where he is and if he’s okay right now and I just.. I just need to know, okay?”
“Yes,” Liam whispers, his hand trembling but warm on her shoulder. “I’ll find him, okay? Don’t worry.” This time it’s Liam who wipes away Tara’s tears before he gets up and presses a quick kiss on top of her head. “Stay close to your phone,” he says as he leaves her room, the large, purposeful steps making her feel slightly less miserable. She might be leaving Theo soon, but he will not be alone.