Chapter Text
Klaus’s lashes fluttered, his eyes darting beneath his closed eyelids while he dreamt. He was resting, his head gently tipped back against the headrest, his shoulders jostling over each bump or bend that led them down the back country road.
Although he was sleeping, his mother couldn’t help but notice how irregular his breathing was; each of his breaths were coming out in labored gasps, and her heart clenched seeing the way his features were anything but content. Grace’s own features twisted with worry as she kept a watchful eye on her son, her delicate fingers adjusting the rear view mirror to have a better look.
She couldn’t believe how pale he had become since they left the hospital, observing the way his sweat glimmered in the fading light of the day. She hated seeing him like this; so fragile, so uncomfortable, so sickly, but while she wished there was something more that she could do for her boy, in her heart she knew that this was only the beginning of the very long and tough road ahead for him.
The pair were currently making the agonizing five hour drive from UCONN hospital in Farmington, Connecticut, where Klaus had just undergone his second cycle of chemotherapy to return to their home in Rochester, New York. This was only their second trip, and already Grace could tell this was all becoming too much for him.
“God, please,” she begged, rubbing her thumb over her silver cross, seeking its comfort and strength. It was something familiar to her, an action she’d picked up at the very beginning of his illness, and the cross had become a permanent fixture above her heart ever since. She had never been religious, but when Klaus first became sick, she needed to believe in something—anything that could help her little boy. “Please, let this work. Please don’t make him suffer.”
Grace’s heart ached when she heard the sounds of his muffled cries coming from the back seat.
God, she hated that this was happening to her child, he didn’t deserve this.
Not again…
Growing up, Klaus had always been her little spitfire. When he was small, he was always sure to keep her on her toes, constantly hiding and jumping out from within cupboards, giving her a fright. He was a pent up ball of energy, but more than that, she was proud to say that he had always been a wonderfully loving little boy. Maybe she was biased, but in her eyes he’d always been perfect; having the most adorable dimples to accompany his infectious smile. She loved his perfectly precious mop of curls on his head, and wow, she never thought she’d get over his eyes - they were the biggest eyes she’d ever seen and the most beautiful shade of green. His laughter never failed to flood warmth into her heart. He’d been a vibrant and strong child since before he was even born, and she still remembered the way his little kicks from within her belly nearly took her breath away.
He’d always been healthy, never even coming down with a single cold or the common flu.
But one day that all started to change...
She still remembered the first time he’d ever come down with a fever. He was eleven years old at the time and to everyone it seemed like your average run of the mill sickness with the classic symptoms: Fever, chills, fatigue. The doctor seemed to agree, so they treated him accordingly only to see no improvement by the end of the course of his treatments. In fact, they quickly realized that not only had there been no improvement, but he had only gotten worse, and it frightened Grace when she noticed that he’d even started dropping weight. It wasn’t until Grace brought him back to the doctor to try and figure out what was really going on with him that they found it.
A swollen lymph node…
“How long has he had this?” The doctor asked, prodding the area along the side of Klaus’s neck, just beneath his jawline where he’d found the lump.
Grace was at a loss for words. “I...I don’t know. Why, is it something bad?”
When he didn’t have a definitive answer she just knew in the pit of her stomach what it meant.
After a slew of diagnostic testing, Grace’s heart shattered when they finally had an answer to what was wrong with her little boy.
Stage I Hodgkin's Lymphoma.
Cancer.
Her little boy had cancer.
Needless to say, in that moment she had never been more terrified. As a mother, she never could have imagined this would happen to her child. How could she? Not Klaus. Not her perfect little boy. Seeing him there, his tiny body lying in that hospital bed and knowing that he was sick, but more than that, that there was a very real possibility of him dying? It was killing her.
The only thing keeping her from absolutely falling apart was knowing that her son needed her to keep it together. He needed her to be strong, to be brave—just like he was.
Thankfully, after meeting with Klaus’s oncologist, Grace started to feel a little better. He informed her that Hodgkin's Lymphoma, especially in the earlier stages, was the easiest cancer to treat. He told her they’d caught it early, and that in time, he was confident Klaus would be okay. So, with a new flicker of hope, they decided to start him on chemotherapy right away.
And she was so unbelievably relieved when they learned that it had worked.
By the time his twelfth Birthday rolled around he was told the wonderful news—that he was in remission.
Months of gruelling treatment had left him frail and weak, and the doctors warned that it may have stunted his growth, but none of that mattered. All that did matter was the knowledge that he was cancer free. Needless to say, that was the best birthday gift he’d ever been given.
The gift of life.
They were told that if he made it past the milestone of living cancer-free for five years that he would be officially considered ‘cured’.
He did make it to that milestone, hell, he made it well beyond it. When seven years had already passed by and Klaus was nearing the end of his teens, they thought for sure that meant he was in the clear.
Unfortunately for him, they were wrong…
Grace could still remember the day when everything changed, as if it were only yesterday…
Klaus had the day off of work and had promised his little brother Fievel (Or Five, as he preferred to be called) that he would bring him over to their aunt Wendy’s house to play games with their cousins. Fortunately for them, they didn’t live very far, only about a fifteen minute walk, but by the time they’d rounded the corner and entered their aunt’s block, Klaus started to become all too aware that he was not feeling very well at all.
At first, he tried not to think anything of it. After all, he had been much busier than usual the past several weeks. His only coworker at the bowling alley had quit unexpectedly, and unfortunately for Klaus, that meant that he was the only one available to pick up all of their shifts. They’d finally brought in a new hire, but even still, that day had been his first day off in nearly two months, so he knew that it was perfectly reasonable for him to be feeling more run down than usual.
But even he had to admit that something about how he was feeling at that moment seemed...off.
The closer they got to the house, however, Klaus couldn’t help but notice how much weaker he continued to become. His limbs were heavy; each of his steps growing more sluggish and uncoordinated the further he went. It wasn’t until they were merely four houses away from their aunt’s when his vision began to blur, and his energy started dwindling rapidly. When he tried to keep moving, pushing through this sudden feeling, he noticed that he’d started to tremble. It was at that moment when he realized just how weak he’d become. He was alarmed when he found he didn’t have the strength to make it even one step further, and he could tell that he desperately needed to sit down. So he did. Right there—right in the middle of the pavement. Once he was prone, lying with his belly facing up towards the sky, he could feel the way his entire body was shaking with his sudden fatigue. With his chest heaving, and his heart racing, Klaus couldn’t deny it any longer—he just knew that something was wrong.
Sure, he had been feeling more tired as of late, but nothing compared to how he was feeling right then.
Not since…
“Five,” Klaus weakly murmured between his shallow breaths. “Go get aunt Wendy…quick.”
Everything after that flashed by in a blur. Next thing Klaus remembered was waking up in the hospital surrounded by his family when he learned the terrible news.
Sadly, after beating the odds given to him and living cancer-free for seven years…his cancer had returned.
But what was worse, was that it had already advanced to Stage III.
That was nearly two months ago already, and Klaus had been traveling long distances to receive the best care possible while he battled this disease. After being diagnosed with cancer for a second time, his doctors thought it would be a good idea to be vigilant—trying a combination of treatments, and recommended they introduce radiation therapy into his treatment plan. They just needed to wait for the clearance to begin. They’d already started him on chemo when he was told the wonderful news.
Today, after his second round of chemotherapy, they’d been informed that Klaus’s request to receive Cobalt Radiation treatments alongside his chemo had finally been approved.
He was scheduled to begin the following week.
They were both just so hopeful that these treatments would be successful in saving his life.
Klaus was unceremoniously pulled from his slumber when he started to cough. To be honest, he knew that he’d undoubtedly woken up in worse situations before; coming-to covered in his own vomit had definitely won the gold medal there, but even still, he wouldn’t exactly consider this a pleasant ‘morning’. He cleared his throat, swallowing down the arrid feeling on his tongue—he really needed to work on closing his mouth while he slept. But, then again, sleeping in a car with your head tipped back wasn’t exactly optimal sleeping conditions to begin with.
Gazing out the window, Klaus worked on focusing his blurred vision, squinting while he tried to count the faded white stripes on the pavement as they passed them by. He remembered doing this as a child, trying to keep track of them. Back then, he’d never been successful in doing so, the car always speeding by far too fast to make an accurate count. Needless to say, not much had changed.
“Please, be kind to him. He doesn’t deserve this.” Klaus weakly tipped his head forward, squinting his eyes while he tuned in to his mother’s pleading whispers. “Please, just let him get better—”
“Wow, mom.” His breath hitched as he spoke and he coughed, wincing at the discomfort it caused him. Fuck, he missed the days when doing simple tasks like talking didn’t make him feel so pathetic. Blowing out a steadying breath, he licked his lips before he continued. “You’re not seriously bargaining with ‘God’ again, are you?”
Glancing in the rearview mirror, Grace couldn’t help but smile. “I was not bargaining,” she corrected. “I was just…”
“...you were just?”
She rolled her eyes affectionately, “I was just asking him for his help, that’s all.”
Klaus exhaled a quick laugh, shaking his head. “Well, you know you could always…” he inhaled sharply. “Offer to sacrifice your first born. You know, in exchange for—oh, wait,” he snapped his fingers, smiling brightly. “That’s me,” he snorted out a laugh. “Nevermind.”
Klaus met his mother’s gaze in the mirror and was unsurprised to find that she was clearly unimpressed by his joke. He sighed, holding up his palms in defeat before relaxing them over his belly. Sinking deeper into his seat, he tipped his head back, reclining it against his headrest, redirecting his attention out the window. She never did much appreciate his dark humor—especially when it came to his own mortality.
“Well, why do you presume that ‘God’ is a man, anyways?” he asked, quirking his brow. “Maybe the creator of the universe is a woman, or...a little girl? Maybe they’re not ‘human’ at all, but a dog? No, wait,” he sucked his teeth, furrowing his brows. “That can’t be right, there’s no way they’re a dog—dogs are nice. Now a cat, on the other hand, that I could see. After all, to them my life is a glass vase and they’re just waiting to,” he mimed a little paw, swatting the glass. “Knock me down and watch me break.”
“Don’t say that—”
“What, I mean it’s true?” he laughed. “Besides, whatever they are, you’re the one that’s threatening them - that’s never a good idea…” Klaus’s banter trailed off when his stomach began to curdle, his blood draining from his gaunt features.
“I was not threatening them,” she replied, unaware of the sudden decline in Klaus’s condition. He was breathing heavily, his trembling hand slowly reaching down to press against his ailing belly as he forced his eyes to close. “I was simply reminding them how precious you are to me—”
“M’gonna be sick…” Klaus murmured, swallowing thickly.
“Ha-ha, very funny,” she said, thinking he was joking. He was notorious for always teasing her for her affection, but that oblivion faded quickly.
Suddenly, Klaus gagged, his shoulders hunching forward. “No, m’serious, m’really gonna be sick—” he heaved again, a whimper tearing through his throat as a tear slipped over his cheek. “Pull over, please—” he begged, trying desperately not to allow himself to get sick.
But in the end he knew that he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t his fault that this was happening—that he had cancer. Nor was it his fault that chemo always reacted poorly within his system. He knew it was inevitable before this would happen. He just hoped it would have waited until he was in the comfort of his own home, and not trapped in the backseat of his mother’s car with several hours still to go. He cried out in discomfort when he couldn’t fight it any longer, his vomit spilling into his cupped hands.
Grace gasped, alarmed by how quickly his nausea had come on. Typically, it took much longer than this before his chemo would begin to affect him. It scared her to realize this was a sign of his symptoms getting worse. Wasting no time, she immediately pulled the car off to the side of the road, just thankful there were no other vehicles around—she knew how much Klaus hated an audience whenever he would get physically ill.
Chest heaving from his discomfort, Klaus weakly fumbled with his door, his trembling hands just barely managing to push it open in time for him to expel the remaining contents of his stomach. His mother watched him with a heavy heart, slotting herself through the gap in the seats between them as she rubbed his back, trying everything in her power to soothe her (in her eyes) still little boy while he vomited. Watching him so unwell never got any easier. When he was cleared of his cancer, she was so thankful that he wouldn’t have to go through this again.
Why couldn’t God have left him alone? What did they have against her son? Every gag, or whimper, or cry he emitted only proved to break her heart even further. She hated this so much. He didn't deserve this pain.
Closing her eyes, Grace firmly clasped her fingers around her cross, squeezing it tightly. “Please,” she prayed silently. “Just let him be okay.”
The following morning, Grace hummed a gentle tune while she focused her energy on preparing breakfast for her family. If she were being honest with herself, she was exhausted. Physically, yes, but more than that, mentally. It had taken them much longer than anticipated to make it home that night, and despite how tired she’d been she couldn’t coerce herself to fall asleep. After tossing and turning for hours, simply unable to shut her racing thoughts off, she decided to make herself useful and get up.
It was still early, only just before eight in the morning, but she’d already been at it for nearly an hour when Reginald entered the kitchen. He couldn’t help but notice how the sweet aroma of freshly made fruit salad combined with the rich scent of cinnamon french toast greeted him immediately.
At the sound of footsteps approaching her, Grace turned to greet her husband with a weak smile. “Good morning, honey.”
“I didn’t hear when you returned last night.” he said simply.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, returning her attention to the french toast in the pan, flipping it over before it could burn. Reginald frowned, immediately noticing how tired she sounded. “We got back later than expected.”
“How late?”
Hands stilling before her, Grace lowered her tone. “Around 3AM.”
Reginald’s brows furrowed. “I know the hospital is not close, but how in god’s name did it take nine hours?”
With more force than was needed, Grace tossed the metal spatula down in the skillet. She kept her voice stern while she addressed her husband. “Do I really need to relay how many times our son needed to rest?” She seethed. “He’s sick, Reggie. Traveling that distance in a car is hell on him. When he sits too long his muscles cramp so we kept needing to stop and let him stretch. And god, you know how nauseous the chemo always makes him. It’s a lot on him, okay?”
“Alright,” he said, gently cupping her wrists. “You’re right, my apologies.”
Grace softened, knowing that her husband meant no harm. She knew she shouldn’t have snapped at him, but with everything that’s been happening within their lives as of late, she just had so many emotions she’d been keeping bottled up. She knew it would only be a matter of time before they would bubble over. “I’m sorry, Reggie—”
“Please, no, it’s quite alright,” he assured her. With a tender touch, Reginald kissed her shoulder. “I am the one that should be sorry.” With a sigh, she nodded, accepting his mutual apology.
They shared a chaste kiss before Grace redirected her focus to finishing up breakfast when Reginald finally asked, “Apart from being cleared to begin radiation,” he began. “How did his appointment go?”
“Honestly?” Grace asked. “I think it went rather well, aside from the nausea. I don’t know, Reggie...it came on much more quickly this time.” She bit her lip, fidgeting with her cross. “The poor thing, he’s so exhausted…”
“You look exhausted yourself,” Reginald noted, cupping her cheek. “Why don’t you go upstairs and rest,” he gestured his hand towards the meal. “I can finish this up—”
“I’ve got it, really,” Grace assured, brushing him off. “The kids should be down any minute to help, and honestly…” she sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t think I could rest right now if I tried,” she admitted with a faint smile.
Reginald returned her grin, kissing her forehead. “I don’t like this, Grace. All of these trips to the hospital, they’re not only difficult for Klaus, they’re hard on you as well. I’m terrified that one of these days you’ll be so tired you’ll fall asleep at the wheel.”
“I know,” she admitted, pouring herself a mug of coffee. Grasping it between her palms, she blew across the surface, watching the way the wisps of steam dispersed. She sighed, appreciating the way the porcelain warmed her skin. “I wish that we could just move there—”
“You know that we can’t do that.”
“I know,” she said, turning away from him. Setting her mug down, she pressed her palms to the counter, leaning heavily against them. She hated that she could feel the now all too familiar sting of tears pricking her eyes.
“I’ve already invested far too much of our expenses into my business,” he began. “And now, with your sister’s accident—” he quickly stopped speaking when he noticed her visibly stiffen.
As if finding out that her son had been re-diagnosed with cancer wasn’t enough of a major blow to their family, not even two weeks later Grace’s sister Wendy had been involved in a major car accident.
She didn't make it.
“I’m sorry,” He apologized, keeping his tone gentle. He realized this was a tender subject, but it bore importance within his reasoning. Cautiously he continued. “But, now we’ve taken in her children. Grace, we have four more mouths to feed, we’re practically running a zoo. We didn’t plan for—”
“Nobody plans to lose the people they love!” she all but shouted. Lip wobbling, she used every bit of strength she had to lower her tone, she didn’t want their arguing to wake up Klaus. He was sick and needed his rest. Listening to his parents bickering over expenses, or worse, loss was the last thing he needed to worry about.
“You know that is not what I meant,” Reginald corrected, keeping his features stern.
“I know, alright?” Running her fingers beneath her eyes, she wiped away her escaping tears. “I’m sorry, it’s just...first my sister, and now Klaus?” Her voice broke just thinking about the possibility of ever needing to say goodbye to her child too. “It’s just been so difficult seeing him like this again. He’s so sick, Reggie…so sick…” Sniffling, she heard the muted sound of footsteps coming from upstairs. Glancing at the analog clock on the wall, she realized the children must be awake and would be down any minute. “I’ll finish this up,” she said, changing the subject. Her heart was racing from the conversation, she couldn’t bear to keep thinking about it. She needed to focus on the task at hand—providing for her family. “Go on,” she ushered Reggie out of the kitchen. “But, if he’s still asleep…please don’t wake him yet. He had an awful night last night, he needs his rest. He can join us whenever breakfast is ready.”
Reginald nodded in agreement, knowing Klaus needed to regain his strength. Of course he hated knowing that his child was sick, it was terrifying not knowing what may become of him. It was difficult for all of them, but he hated how deeply it affected his mother especially.
Sometimes he felt as though Grace placed all of the blame on herself, and he couldn’t help but notice how she’d made it her life mission to be there for him, taking on the full responsibility for everything involving his care. But it wasn’t her fault, and she was only one person—she shouldn’t be the only one taking action in ensuring their son, or their family lived their lives to the best of their abilities.
This was all so much, everything seemingly hitting them all at once, but he knew in his heart that he needed to do something to provide solace for his family.
No matter the cost.
Coming up beside her, he took her hand into his own, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Okay,” he said simply.
Grace glanced up at him, confused by his statement. “Okay?”
“We will find a rental home near the hospital.”
Unable to hide her surprise, Grace gasped, and Reginald couldn’t help but smile at the joy that he brought her, watching the way it flooded his wife’s beautiful features. “Really Reggie? You really mean it?” He nodded, cupping her cheek before her smile faltered. “But...how? You said so yourself, your whole business is here, you can’t just leave, and how will we afford it—”
“I can come down to visit whenever I am able,” he reasoned, raising his brows as he spoke. “Perhaps we could refinance? Or, take out a loan—”
Grace could tell that this wasn't something her husband wanted to do. Not that she could say that she blamed him, she understood his apprehension. After all, just like he’d mentioned, they certainly weren’t swimming in money.
Klaus’s cancer treatments weren’t exactly cheap; the chemo and anti nausea meds were one thing, but now they knew that they could expect the added cost of his cobalt radiation treatments as well. And that’s not even mentioning what affects taking in their nieces and nephews would have.
But right now—none of that mattered. She was just so unbelievably grateful for the sacrifices her husband was willing to make to ensure that their son would be okay.
With a warmth filling her chest, Grace took Reggie’s face into her palms, peering deeply into his eyes before she promised, “We’re going to make it through this,” she said reassuringly, kissing his lips. “All of us…together.”