Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

No.

That was my first thought when I heard it.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

They say denial is the first step, I guess they weren’t lying.

I shook my head side to side, as if it would make me unhear what I just heard. As if it would scramble my brain enough to make me forget. Like, if i just keep saying no, it wouldn’t be true. It didn’t work.

She was sick, again.

Suddenly, this wasn’t just another argument. Not just another debate or miscommunication, this was hell. It seemed like all the anger, the rage, the ache that accompanied my parents as they fought this afternoon, had all been zapped at this..announcement.

I stood at the doorway, my backpack still on, my car still in the driveway. From the ajar front door I could hear everything, whether I wanted too or not. Just 5 minutes prior I had planned on walking in, grabbing a snack, talking to mom about my school day, then heading to my room. I had no intention on eavesdropping on what might’ve been the most important argument, moment, of our lives.

Fuck.

“…Suz-“ My dad, Adam, had said, but my mom was already crying. There’s nothing more fucked up in the world than hearing your mom cry. “Suz, what are you talking about?”

“Its back.” My mom had retorted. “It’s..it’s here, the cancer it’s…” Her voice shook and from behind the door I could imagine her watery eyes. Hell, I could feel them myself. I hated this, she was too kind, too soft, too special to be sick again. No. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. My hands shook and my chest felt weird. My mind raced and I felt dizzy, I leaned against the doorway and tried to breathe.

It’s quiet for a beat, “..Suz-“

“Get out.”

“Suzannah.”

“Get out! Get out Adam! Leave!” Mom was yelling now. “What are you gonna do?! Cheat on me again?! Lie to my kids while i’m barely breathing?!” and soon Dad was too. Cheat? Again? Dad had cheated?

The shouts continued as I processed it all. It was the kind of yelling that made me happy that Jeremiah stuck around for Drama Club after school. It was the kind of yelling that I would always shield Jerme from when he was younger, I would cover his ears even though it mean compromising my own. How sick it was, I thought, that when I was the one hearing something like this, I thought of helping others before myself.

“Get out Adam, Get Out!” Mom shouted.

I left, quickly. Running to my car and getting in, slamming the door and backing out as fast as I could. I didn’t know why I was rushing, what I was running from. Maybe I didn’t wanna get caught, maybe I didn’t want Mom to know that I knew. Maybe I was trying to avoid all of it. I just couldn’t stay there, I had to leave.

I turned the radio up all the way, rolled the windows down. I gripped the wheel until my knuckles turned white. My jaw was clenched and my heart was pounding. I was barely stopping at red lights, barely acknowledging where I was going, I just needed to go .

I don’t remember driving all the way to Hartford.

I don’t remember blocking all my moms and brothers concerned calls.

I just remember pulling to the side of the road. Feeling panic, anger, sadness, grief, all at the same time. I remember taking off my seatbelt, feeling like my heart might burst though my chest and rip it if I didn’t. I ran a hand through my hair, then again. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking, I put them on the wheel as I panted and my vision swam.

I huffed, and shook, and eventually broke down crying. I couldn’t remember the last time I had cried so hard, so much. It hurt, it hurt so bad.

Then,

I screamed.

——-

The ride back was a lot more memorable. Maybe because I had almost passed out after my stupid mental breakdown, and forced myself into alertness. Maybe because I felt like all the water in my body had been poured out as tears. I dunno. It was quiet. I think it was Doja Cat playing on the radio, it reminded me of Jer, and of Belly. I stopped myself there, not letting myself think of her, not now.

I opened the front door timidly and stepped inside, looking down then up.

Speak of the devil,

“Conrad, what the fuck?!” Jeremiah had said. “When I call you, you pick up your fucking phone, you hear me?!” He was all in my face now, like an asshole. I could tell his anger was laced with worry, but it didn’t make my ears ring any less. Funny, sometimes my brother sounded just like dad, but he looked and had the heart of Mom.

Mom.

I miss my mom,

already.

Jeremiah snapped his fingers in my face, “Hey! Are you listening to me?!”

“Yes, uh, yeah sorry, I hear you.” I said quietly, looking at mom behind Jeremiah. She walked up to me, placing her soft (frail) hands on my face. In that moment, I looked into her eyes. I’d seen them so many times. Lit up with excitement, droopy with exhaustion, stern with disappointment, watery with hurt, in Jeremiah, everyday. I looked at her face; her pale skin, her fine hair, her pinkish lips. I was analyzing, memorizing. I took note of  her pointed nose and her rosy cheeks and imprinted it into my mind.

It was like I was seeing her for the first time,

or the last.

“Don’t do that again, Connie. You had us worried, I thought i’d have to call Officer Peters to go fetch you.” Mom said, with a light smile. She had found this situation a little more comical than Jeremiah had, it made me wonder if she know what I knew. I tried to smile back at her, but i’m not sure what my face ended up doing.

Cancer, the word looped around my mind like a car on a track, like a crappy vinyl that only played the bad songs right. I fucking hate that word. The memories of the argument earlier played in my mind, and I felt like I was gonna puke.

I was drowning, but like always, Mom was there to bring me back to shore. She tapped my cheek lightly, and she came back into focus. “You okay?” She asked,  quietly.

I wanted to say no. I wanted to tell her that I knew. I wanted to ask her a million questions, I wanted her to tell me I misheard, that she was healthy, that dad didn’t cheat and that she was fine, everything was fine. I wanted her to hold me in her arms and run her hands through my hair, hear her heart beat strongly and listen to the song she always had on her lips when Jeremaih or I would cry.

*You are my sunshine, my only sunshine*

And everything would be fine.

But it wasn’t.

I wasn’t.

“I’m fine, mom.” I had lied, “Just…needed some space.” I smiled sheepishly, she smiled back, Jeremiah eyed me suspiciously but didn’t say anything. I apologized for leaving, we ate dinner, then I went to bed. I couldn’t have been laying in bed for more than 5 seconds before a sob racked my chest. It was ugly and painful and it made me feel hot and sick. I shook as I buried my sobs into the pillow.

That was the first time I cried myself to sleep

Chapter Text

Conrad

The next morning, I woke with a groan. My head throbbing and my eyes burned. It felt like I had been crying for hours, it was then I remembered I probably was. Lying there, I thought back to the previous day, I went through the events and desperately searched for any sort of warning, something that couldn’t hinted what was to come. But, my searches came up blank.

It was a normal day when I found out. A good one, even. As. I woke up that morning with my usual amount of energy. Days hadn’t been so bad lately. Sure, I was still trying to manage my anxiety, which had just recently been diagnosed. And yeah, my brother was stealing my clothes again, but I was fine. It was almost summer, just the thought of that could put anyone in good spirits.

My mom didn’t seem sick, or tired, or anxious. She had kissed me on my cheek, and handed me a lunch she packed like she did every morning. She didn’t shoot any glances to Jeremiah, or suddenly sit down, feeling off balanced, everything was normal.

The day was normal.

What I saw outside the house when I got home, wasn’t normal. Dads car. In the driveway. What a peculiar sight.

Dad has barley been home these past few weeks, out on business trips or whatever the fuck. I wasn’t complaining, I didn’t particularly miss his passive-agreesive comments or pushes to play golf with him. I got out of the car, and jogged up to the ajar front door, having no idea what was to come.

I glanced to my alarm clock and realized I had slept in. I wasn’t crying anymore, I don’t think I had anymore water to spare. I think maybe I was in some sort of shock? I felt…weird. Somber, would be a good word

I supposed. If I thought about the fact that my mom would soon be gone, then sure i’d cry. But, for now, it just kinda sat in the back of my head. It made me want to be nicer to her, not take any moment with her for granted, but it also made me want to avoid her, not get too attached to something that will soon be ripped away.

I felt confused, sad, it was a mix of emotions I hadn’t really felt. It felt like every memory I had with my mom was tainted, blurred with the fact that once again she’d be fighting, and nobody knew if she’d win.

And nobody else knew, she was sick. 

And I decided then, as the bird chirped and the world kept spinning, that I would try my best to keep it that way.

—

Jeremiah

I don’t know what the fucks wrong with Conrad. Last night, and now today he’s just been acting…strange. Usually an early riser, he slept in today. He lumbered into the kitchen at 10:30am, and sat down at the island in silence as I ate my cereal. Typically, i’d get a ‘morning’ or a hand ruffling my hair as he walked past, today he was silent. It was unusual.

Looking at him now, he looked like hell. His eyes were puffy and he looked as though he hadn’t slept. He would blink, then sometiems keep his eyes closed for a second, as if centering himself.

“What’s up with you?” I asked, scooping some cereal into my mouth.

“..Nothing.” Conrad said, with a shrug. He seemed a bit more frenetic than usual as he eyes searched the room. “Where’s mom?”

“..The Woman’s Shelter?” I said. “You know, the place she’s gone every saturday for the past year?”

“Oh, yeah,” Conrad says quietly. A tense silence falls over us as Conrad looks everywhere but at me. He got like this sometimes, and I was still learning how to deal with it.

Conrad was diagnosed with anxiety 3 months ago, it wasn’t a big surprise to anyone I don’t think. He worried a lot, all the time. It just took a bad panic attack at school for mom and dad to wake up and get him tested. i’m not sure if he has meds for it, but I figured he’d have something to take occasionally when his anxiety got bad. I always found the whole situation kinda dramatic, and annoying, but mom always insists i’m patient with him, and try to put myself in his shoes.

And if I was upset, i’d want someone to ask what’s wrong.

So, I sigh and ask, “Something on your mind?”

Conrad looks to me, then away, fiddling with a ring in his finger. “Have you talked to Dad lately?” He asks tentatively. The question surprised me.

“Uh…no, why?” I ask, I scoop more cereal into my mouth. “Is he trying to make you go golfing again?”

Conrad laughs weakly but doesn’t say much else. He then heads back up to his room, and I don’t see him for the rest of the day.

Conrad’s never been the most open or social guy, but he doesn’t usually shut me out so heavily either. So, when this behavior continues the whole week, it’s a little concerning. He stays in his room as soon as he gets home from school, he skips breakfast and doesn’t lean into affection from Mom. He doesn’t seem excited for the upcoming trip to Cousins, and he damn near rolls his eyes when Mom mentions Dad coming over

for the 4th.

Watching him slowly but surely withdraw from everyone had been so confusing. I couldn’t imagine what crazy thing he could be going through to make him completely duck out like this. Our usual conversation had run dry, his typical smirks and gleams of mischief in his eye and now become blank expressions and flashes of worry. He had taken up smoking weed, just on the occasion. He had never really done it in front of me but I smelt it on him when he came back from a walk.

I missed the Conrad who would crack jokes at dinner that made me choke on my pepsi. I misssd the Conrad who would slam his Uno wild card on the table and beam with pride when he eventually beat me. I missed the Conrad who would listen to me ramble and gossip on the walk to school, gasping and laughing at just the right moments, egging me on even though we both knew I was probably in the wrong. I missed my older brother, and had just one question floating in my mind as I watched him space out again during dinner,

what’s is causing him so much pain?

Chapter Text

Conrad

I don’t remember the exact day, the exact moment, that I became mean. 

I wasn’t always mean, I wasn’t mean before. Sure, i’ve been described as brooding or closed off, shy or reserved, but i’ve never been mean. I was still able to crack good jokes and find positives. At least, before all this happened. 

It came out of no where, the random anger that would bubble up in me. The molten lava of rage that would burst and burn the ones I love, then sit and harden on my heart. Little things, it was little things that would set me off. Tiny little annoyances that would make me storm out of a room or shout. 

One of the first times this happened, was about a week after what I refer to as “The Announcement”.To cope, I shut everybody out. I was spending most of my days in bed, rotting. I would doomscroll on my phone until my braid felt muddled and the dopamine hits my were weaker. But, even then i’d keep going, keep scrolling. When I wasn’t doing that, I sat by myself and smoked weed, and when I wasn’t doing that, I slept.

 I grumbled to myself when my phone, that i’d been on all morning, finally died. I looked to my right to plug it into my charger, but it wasn’t there. Fuck. 

This normally wouldn’t bug me so much but right now, with my only way of escaping reality dead, it pissed me off. I threw my blankets off of me and got up and went to Jere’s room. I burst through the door and just stormed in, “Did you take my charger?” I asked. 

Jeremiah, who had been painting flinched but didn’t pay me much mind, “Knock much?” he mumbled, turning up his music a bit. Seeing him paint, his expression relaxed and paint brush steady, made him look so much like my mom. The sight of it and the reminder of her fate just fueled my frustration more.

“Do. You. Have. My charger.” I repeated, frustration in my tone. Jermeiah looked up at me, confused and possibly a little concerned. 

“…Top drawer.” he said. His eyes trailed me as I yanked it from the drawer. “Are you okay? You’ve been in your room all day. Maybe you should come out for a bit?”

I walked past him and slammed the door in his face. I waited for a moment, to see if he’d yell or come to the door or maybe even come check on me, but nothing. He did nothing. He ignored me,

and I deserved it.

I closed my door then plugged up my phone, waiting anxiously for the apple logo to show up. Now, i felt antsy, hyper, overstimulated, I needed to get out.

Jeremiah

The first time I caught my brother smoking weed, it was right after he had stormed into my room like a lunatic. He had been flipping about because I borrowed his charger thst he apparently needed right that second. I noticed how frantic he was, anxious to charge his phone as if it was his lifeline at the moment. He had been spending a lot of time in his room, laying on his bed on his phone, and this was how he reacted with out it. Jeez. I suggested that maybe he should get out of his room for a little, and in response he slammed a door in my face. I sat there, stunned, even more so when I heard his footsteps pause in front of my door, I scoffed. What did he want me to do? Comfort him? Ask him what was wrong until he eventually broke down? Fuck that.

I heard him slam his door, and he stayed in there for a moment before he stepped out of it and headed down the hall, moms room, to steal from her old weed stash no doubt. Ugh. It was all just so messy. Mom at work, Dad out of town, Conrad throwing tantrums at home, holy shit. And it’s not like I haven’t tried to be patient and understanding of whatever Conrad’s going through, but my God, this was just too much. Every time I tried to speak to him it ended in argument. 

I wanted to yell at him, to ask him what the fuck his problem was. I wanted to call Steven, tell him the situation and have him take my side. I wanted to call Belly, and roll my eyes but listen to her give possible explanation of what Conrad was going through and how to help him. Had he even talked to them? We were leaving for Cousins in what, two months? And he acts like this? Him and his attitude were gonna ruin the summer, and I wasn’t gonna let that happen. 

With new found determination, I stepped out of my room and tried to figure out where Connie went. I walked around the garage, the alley way, but a cloud of smoke led me to the backyard. We had a big backyard, we used to joke that it was a forest. It’s a bunch of grass land and some trees that lead to who knows where. When we were kids, it was off limits, but Conrad always snuck us in there somehow.

I find him now sitting in front of a tree. His head is lulled back and his eyes are bloodshot and puffy. He sees me approach and giggles, “Jeremiah.” He says. “Come to join the smoke sesh?” 

“Ha. Ha.” I say dryly. The sight of Conrad high was a novelty to me, I’d smelt smoke on him before, sure, but this was the first time I saw him in the act. It kinda scared me, it reminded me of Dad when he would drink. “Didn’t you used to say that smoking was for losers?” 

“…Maybe?” Conrad says laughing, i’m not amused. “Come on Jere, loosen up, smoke some pot.” 

“No. I’m too young to smoke weed and so are you, so come on, we’re going inside, now.” I stated, my voice taken an authoritarian tone that I hadn’t had to use before, but Conrad did plenty. 

Conrad takes a drag from him joint, and blows it out slowly. “Did anyone ever tell you how much you look like mom?” He says lazily. 

I sigh, “Yep. I get that a lot. Which you would remember, if you weren’t high.” 

“In fact,” Conrad continues. “You look so much like her, you remind me so much of her, that I can’t stand you sometimes.” 

I blink at him, “…what?” 

“You frustrate me to no end. But, I think I couldn’t stand you more when we were little, and mom was sick.” Conrad takes a drag, “You were just an itty bitty Jeremiah then, you probably don’t even remember the appointments and waiting rooms, or dad cheating.”

I open my mouth to say something, then pause. I try again, but nothing comes out. Eventually, I sputter, “What are you talking about?” 

Conrad just takes a lazy drag, then lets it out slowly, he raises an eyebrow, “Oh? You don’t know?”

Chapter Text

Conrad 

“What…what are you talking about?” Jeremiah had stammered, “Dad didn’t cheat, when would he ever….” 

With the amount of weed in my system then, I couldn’t help but laugh. Put down the joint and cover my face, cutting up completely while Jeremiah stared at me in disbelief. He really had no idea, he’d freak out if he found out about the cancer, oh man. 

Jeremiah looks at me then, and scoffs and shakes his head. “Okay Con, I think you’ve had enough smoke for today.” He mumbles, assuming i’m too high to mean anything im saying, little did he know. I let him lift me up under my arms and get me standing as I giggled. The comedy of the situation was wearing off now, now I just felt like I was floating. 

“Jeremiaaaaaah.” I called softly as he stomped out the joint. 

“Whaaaaat?” My little brother said back.

”…..Do you wanna know a secret?” I said then, my voice suddenly taking on a dark and serious tone. Cancer, there that word was again, floating in my subconscious. Jeremiah had turned to me, his blue eyes squinted in confusion. 

“A secret?” He scoffs. “What? Are you gay too?” 

I tried to laugh, but it sounded forced and tired. I felt anxious now, depressed and weak. I didn’t even notice how I had slowly sunken to the ground, sitting in the grass, tears on my face. My mom is dying, *my mom, is dying*,

and there’s nothing I can do about it. The pain, anxiety, grief, it all wracked me at once. Hot tears streamed down my face and I didn’t know how to stop it. The high had ran out, my phone was dead, my escape was gone. 

It was just me, me and my little brother….

who looks so

much 

like her.

Jeremiah hadn’t noticed I was crying until he turned around and saw me on the floor, picking at the grass. His eyes widened, and he seemed confused but helped me up anyway. He wiped some of my tears, and tried to get me to speak, but his attempts were futile. I was a mess, and now he knew it too. He led me to the couch and made me some a sober smoothie, he didn’t ask why I was crying, but his soft eyes carried the question. He sat with me on the couch, and dabbed my eyes with his jacket sleeve. Once there was some food in me, and I was composed enough, Jeremiah tapped my shoulder. “Hey, you alright man?” he asked, his voice was soft, delicate. “Is there….something you wanna talk about?” 

There was, and I almost did tell him then but I couldn’t. I couldn’t hurt him like that. So, I shook my head mutely. Jere sighed and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me close to him. He smelt like sea salt and carmel, I told him that and it made him laugh, a sweet sound. The love of a sibling was a high of its own. I don’t remember falling asleep, but I do remember the hushed voice of my brother and my mom in the kitchen. I tried to listen but eventually gave up, and let rest finally take over me.

Chapter Text

Jeremiah -

I leaned over the back of the couch as Conrad slept, his chest going up and down. He’d always been a light sleepier, as if a robber could break in at any moment and he needed to protect me. I brushed a lock of hair out of his face as I continued my rant to mom, “And he’s just been so moody lately, it’s annoying and confusing.” I said.  

My mom sips her tea, looking at me over the rim of the cup. She then puts it down, “Yeah, it’s unusual for sure but, I mean, he’s a senior Jere. He’s doing finals, worried about college and possibly going out of state-“ 

My eyes widened, I hadn’t thought about that. “He’s going out of state?” I asked. 

“Well, he might.” Mom replied. “There’s med schools all around the world. Why would he stay here?”

For me. I thought, selfishly. By now, Conrad was starting to stir and mumble in his sleep. I thought about letting him sleep more, but isn’t that all he’s been doing? Sleeping? And crying, apparently. And smoking. I slap him lightly on his back. “Conrad, time to wake up.” I mutter. 

He groans, “Leave me alone.” 

“I’ll make you crepes.” 

“I don’t want your fucking crepes.” He mumbles. “And its crépes, bozo. Didn’t you take French?” I almost scoff. 

Mom comes by, hands on her hips. “Conrad.” her voice is soft, but stern. He opens one eye, “Can we talk?” 

At that, he softens. Conrad sits up, and I swear I can hear every vertebrae of his spine cracking. It’s kinda funny, but I don’t make a joke, not now. He rubs his eyes as mom and I sit on the couches by him. “What is this an intervention? You guys find a crack stash I don’t know about?” 

“Conrad, what’s going on?” Mom asks.

”…What are you talking about?” Conrad plays dumb, cracking his knuckles. 

“You’ve been acting super weird. Like, for weeks. Over-sleeping, under-eating, smoking pot,” Mom glances at me, shocked, I shut up. “Uh, is everything, like, okay?”

He sighs. “I’m…fine.”

“You’re not though.” Mom says.

”I am.”

“You look sick.” I add.

”Fucking hell Jeremiah.” He stands up. “Why do you guys even ask me my thoughts if you’re gonna reject them if it’s not the answer you want?” 

“Because you’re acting crazy.” Mom stands up then, I do too. “Are you depressed? Are you suicidal? Do you need to go to the hospital??”

His cheeks are red now, with i’m assuming is anger? Or maybe he is suicidal, and embarrassed. He refuses to yell mom, but I know he’d be shouting at me. 

The two continues to go back and forth. I sit back down. I hate arguing, I hate bickering, I hate seeing my family upset. It reminds me of the last few nights before Dad left. All the tension. Home feeling like Hell. Like, all and any love between my mom and my dad had been sucked into a black hole, and our family was broken.

Eventually, they both run out of steam. Conrad and mom sit back down on the couch, frustrated with eachother. Usually, I can ease the tension, with a joke or a smile or, something. And I feel myself just about to, it’s instinct at this point, muscle memory, but I stopped myself. Why should I have to be the one to fix things when I feel broken. 

Our family is broken.

”…..I miss dad.” 

The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them. I inhale sharply, why did I say that? Moms looking at me with a strange expression, maybe pity? Sympathy? And Conrad continues to sit with his arms crossed, staring at the ground. It’s silent for a bit, then he mumbles,

”I…me too.”

Chapter Text

Conrad - 

After that, we all dispersed, and Mom took a nap. She claimed all the arguing had worn her out, and I made a mental note to apologize to her later. Jermeiah and I were put in charge for dinner. We didn’t talk much, he just pulled out a pack of ground beef and some burger buns. One thing about me; I fucking hate ground beef. Everybody knows that. The sight of it raw, the texture, bleh.

There’s an old rumor that gets passed around the beach house every year. As it goes; when Mom was pregnant with Jeremiah, she was making burgers with me, and gagged. Not because of the beef, just maternal nausea I suppose. Anyway, apparently I freaked out, and ever since, I get nauseous at the sight of raw beef. 

I might as well be vegan.

As Jeremiah and I are making the patties, I tried not to puke. I started hiccuping every now and then, but I tried not to let him see. He kept glancing over at me,

“I’m fine.” I mumbled. He looked away, so I added, “I’m sorry I got so pissed at you, and mom.” Another hiccup.

“Oh,” he says quietly. “I…it’s okay, really. Um, are you feeling better after..,” He trails off.

“Yeah,” I say quickly, motified that he saw me so weak. “I’m alright.” I hiccup again, he pats my back.

We don’t talk about the argument, or what I said. None of it. We’re toeing the line between pretending it never happened and being far too aware of it. So, it’s quiet, but I know he’s holding back words. He flattens another burger and it makes a disgusting squish and I damn near die inside. “I can take over the burgers.” Jeremiah offers.

“No,” I choked out. “We’re almost done just stop grabbing the meat like that.” 

I saw Jeremiah fold his lips before looking at me, because of course his mind went there.

I looked back at the patty and laughed lightly. ”…You’re fucking disgusting.” I said. 

He let himself laugh then, throwing his head back, it’s a loud, ridiculous display, but it’s his. I remember when he was younger he’d laugh at anything, any pun would have him giggling. I’m not sure when he became so dirty minded, but I don’t doubt Steven influenced it. We finished up the patties, thank God. I quickly washed my hands as Jeremiah laid them out on parchment. 

“I feel like..” He started, then he stopped. 

“What?” I muttered, snatching some paper towels. 

“…I just….feel like this is the most i’ve seen you…in a while.” He said cautiously. 

“I see you everyday.”

”Well, sure,” he says washing his hands. “But this is the most i’ve seen you…like the real you, and outside your room, it’s nice.” He shakes his hands dry. “Would be nicer if we weren’t handling raw meat.” 

“..yeah.” I just said. I began to feel tired again, my head heavy and yearning for my bed. It’s funny, no matter how much I lay in it, I still feel tired. “Hey, Jere?” I say.

He turns to me immediately, eyes intent, as if he was ready hang on to every word I said. “Yes?” 

I paused, feeling like I was disappointing him. “…Are you fine with grilling the burgers, I want to lay down for a bit before dinner..”

He blinks, then says, “Uh, yeah, that’s okay.” He turns back to the stove, turning it on. I felt bad, I knew he was expecting me to open up but I just couldn’t, not now. I hated seeing him worried. I hated making mom upset, I hated being so much of a problem all the time. I hated it, all of it.

All of me-

Suddenly I hear a pan clatter, “Wait.” Jeremiah said.

I turn around and face him, surprised and a little confused at his sudden shift in demeanor. He’s gone from calm and quiet to panicked and serious. 

I wait for him to say something, but he didnt. “Yes?” 

He steps towards him, now we’re inches away. “I’m gonna say some things, and you might not agree with them, but you need to listen to them, okay?”

I hesitate, scanning his eyes for any bit of humor, none. “…okay.” 

He sighs, then starts. “I don’t know what’s going on with you. Like, at all. I don’t know why you lay in bed all day. I don’t know if you’re sick or sad or, hell, if you even want to be on this planet!” My eyes widened a bit, though I had never said it verbally, it felt like I had been exposed. He didn’t notice. “But I do know that I love you, and mom loves you, and dad..loves you, and all we want is for you to be happy again. It’s your senior year! You should be going out, making connections, memories, asking girls out for prom! Instead, you’re just here, laying in bed all day, not eating, not sleeping, not living-“

His voice broke a bit and I realized he was getting choked up. He had always been the emotional one, but still. Seeing him this choked up over my well-being shook me to my core. “Jere…” 

“No,” he spat. “I’m not the one who needs comfort right now…” but his eyes are watering and his trembling a bit.

”Jeremiah.” I say, my heart softening. 

“Goddamnit Conrad! I’m worried, okay?!” He shouts suddenly, leaving me stunned. “I can’t fucking lose you, do you understand that?!” 

“You’re not losing me!” I say back. “I’m not going anywhere, i’m right here!”

“But you’re not! You’re not here!” He shouts. “You’re-you’re thin, and pale, and tired all the time and im terrified for you but you…you don’t even seem like you care!” 

I pause then, sighing. It was true, I didn’t care. I didn’t care that I was sick. That I was sad, that I was…how I was… “Jere..” I said, I reached for him but he pushed me away, storming off.

….

I fried the patties, two for Jere, one for mom, one for me, though my appetite was far from existent. I sat at the table for a bit, waiting to see if Jeremiah would come back, but he didn’t. So, I left. As I walked back down the hallway  I grabbed my phone off the counter, which illuminated with a notification. I unlocked it before swiping up and,

there it was. A beacon of hope in the darkness, a message. 

Belly: hey