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The weeks ticked slowly past following Wayne’s diagnosis. Eddie took his uncle to a lot of his appointments, sometimes accompanied by Steve. Eddie knew how much Steve hated the hospital, noticed how he shrunk into himself slightly whenever the sterile smell greeted them as they entered, but still he went.
Eddie loved him for it.
Because truth was, he was struggling.
Wayne was sick. Sick enough that, halfway through his second round of chemo, Eddie had insisted he come to stay with him and Steve. Wayne had begrudgingly given in, taking up residence in their spare bedroom. While Eddie and Steve worked, Benny would pop in to visit and check up on him, the two friends since childhood.
On bad days, when the nausea and extreme fatigue from his treatment plagued him, he spent most of his time in bed.
But some days, like today, he was able to get up and about. He even looked like his old self for brief moments, if skinnier and with even less hair.
Eddie was sitting in the rocking chair on the porch, trying to relax enough to enjoy the midday sun on his face and watching his boyfriend and uncle in the garden. They were bent over a planter box, Steve with dirt-encrusted hands and smiling as Wayne handed him a seedling to place in the soil. Steve was nodding, listening intently as Wayne gave him advice, pointing at something in the box with a shaky hand. The sun was catching the lighter tones in Steve’s hair, his eyes twinkling in the light, and god Eddie loved him.
Loved them both.
He hadn’t wanted Wayne to spend so much time outdoors today, had argued that he needed to be in bed, but Wayne had grown more and frustrated being cooped up indoors. As soon as Steve had suggested gardening and Wayne’s face had lit up, it had been a losing battle for Eddie.
His uncle looked happy to be outside and working with his hands again, but Eddie knew it would take a serious toll on his limited energy levels soon.
And so, when a hacking cough ripped through the otherwise peaceful atmosphere, Eddie wasn’t surprised.
He leapt to his feet, already making his way over to his uncle who had a hand braced on Steve’s shoulder, the boy frozen in place and looking worriedly to Eddie.
“Ok, time to go inside,” Eddie urged, placing a steadying hand on Wayne’s back.
Wayne waved him off, or tried to, but his hand was weak and Eddie ignored it. But he didn’t move; planted his feet until he could get a little bit of breath back.
“I’m fine, Eds,” he croaked after a moment, turning back to his seedlings.
“You’re not,” Eddie insisted, “And you should have long sleeves on, you burn easier after chemo, the doctors told you that over and over -”
“Ack, give it a rest, Eds,” Wayne grumbled, “It’s nearly 70 out here, I ain’t puttin’ more clothes on.”
“Well, I think you should come inside anyway, you’ve been out here for a while now and you’re gonna be exhausted,” Eddie tried to guide Wayne towards the door, but his hand was slapped away.
“We’re working on somethin’, me and Steve,” Wayne argued, “And I’d like to get it finished. Don’t need you to be motherin’ me so much, Eds.”
Steve spoke up, quietly and calmly. “Eddie, we can just finish off this row of seedlings maybe, and then -”
“No,” Eddie snapped, regretting it immediately as Steve’s eyes turned downcast. But Eddie had been the one awake nearly the entire past two nights, helping Wayne back and forth to the bathroom, cleaning up sick and bringing him food and water he couldn’t keep down. Steve had helped where he could, but Wayne was still embarrassed to have even Eddie looking after him in such a way, let alone Steve, and so his involvement was still fairly minimal. He felt bad, knew that Wayne enjoyed his time outdoors, but he could also see the heavy bags under his eyes, could see the red tinge in his paper-thin skin. “No,” he said again, with less force, “Time to go inside.”
Wayne clenched his jaw. Looked from Steve, still holding his seedling, and back to his nephew’s stubborn face. With a weary sigh, he conceded, tossing his trowel onto the grass and huffing past Eddie towards the back door.
“Eds…” Steve started.
“Don’t,” Eddie murmured, pinching the brow of his nose, “Please, just don’t.”
“He was enjoying himself,” Steve continued quietly, reaching for Eddie’s hand, “I know you’re worried, but he was looking better today than he has in a while, and I think that’s because of this,” Steve gestured around him, to the sun-drenched backyard, the orange tree heavy with fruit behind them.
Eddie’s shoulders slumped a little, his hand limp in Steve’s. “He’ll be exhausted now,” Eddie forced out, voice barely above a whisper, “He hides it from you, sometimes. But…I know when something’s too much for him, ok? So I need you to stop encouraging him out here so much.”
“I just thought -”
“I know,” Eddie interrupted, trying to ignore the way Steve’s face fell. “You’re trying to help, I know, but this…this isn’t helping. Just please trust me when I say he needs to rest, ok?”
Steve nodded, slipping his hand from Eddie’s and absently brushing his thumb over the dirt on his fingers. Eddie headed inside, leaving his boyfriend to finish planting his row of seedlings alone.
Wayne was waiting for him in the lounge, perched on the edge of the couch, stick-thin arms draped over his lap.
Eddie swallowed, went to shuffle past him, but Wayne stopped him with a single word.
“Son.”
“Hmm?”
“Come here. Sit.”
Despite being about as strong a newborn kitten right now, Wayne’s voice left no room for argument, and Eddie did as he was told.
Wayne avoided his eyes, looked somewhere just past Eddie as he spoke. “You know I…I’m real grateful that you’ve been helpin’ me so much. But I need you to quit worryin’ so damn much, you hear?”
Eddie bristled. “You’re not meant to be outside for too long, the doctor said -”
“Damn the doctors,” Wayne cursed, “They don’t know everythin’. All’s I know is that I felt far better out there, in the fresh air and helping your boy than I have in a long time. And I need ya to trust me, stop treatin’ me like I’m gonna break.”
Eddie looked hard at his uncle. At the sickly pallor to his skin, his sunken cheeks, the tremor in his once-steady hands. Wayne was wasting away in front of his eyes, the chemo ravaging him from the inside, and Eddie was so angry about the entire thing he felt he could scream.
But he didn’t. Instead, he blinked back tears as he spoke. “You are breaking, Wayne,” he choked out, “You’re sick. You’re really fucking sick, and I’m so scared that…that something’s going to happen, and I won’t be able to help, and I just wish you’d rest more because…I don’t want to lose you.”
Wayne’s face softened, and he shuffled forward to reach across the coffee table for Eddie’s hand. Eddie wouldn’t look at him, turning his head away as tears started to run down his cheeks.
“Eds,” Wayne said, patting his hand to try and get his attention. “You ain’t gonna lose me, son. Not just yet. I’m tougher than all that, you know that.”
Eddie shook his head. “You’re not getting better,” he said, voice strangled, “The treatment’s meant to help and I know it takes time but you’re just getting sicker and sicker and it’s not fucking fair.” His voice rose as he spoke, getting louder and louder.
“Eddie…”
“I’m trying to help, I’m trying to do everything the doctor told us, but you keep pushing yourself and I just want you to listen, if not to me then to yourself because you’re obviously not well enough to be mucking around outside in the sun -”
“Mucking around?” Wayne cut in, tightening his grip on Eddie’s hand. “You know how much I love bein’ outside, getting my hands in the dirt, I was helping Steve get everything looking good out there. Last I checked, the doctor didn’t say nothin’ about having avoid the outdoors altogether, did he?”
Eddie heard the back door swing open, heard Steve quietly toe his shoes off and pad over to the sink. The tap creaked, water rushing over Steve’s dirty hands. Eddie pictured the thick blackness of the water swirling around before gurgling down the drain, pictured Steve trying to gather any remaining dirt in the bottom of the sink and scoop it out before it could dry and harden there.
“I just wish you’d listen to me every now and then, rather than Steve,” Eddie said, regretting the words even as they came out of his mouth.
He could see Steve from here, saw his shoulders tense up, watched as he dried his hands a little shakily before quietly heading for their bedroom, hand wiping across his nose in that tell-tale way of his as he avoided Eddie’s eyes.
Wayne noticed, too. His gaze flicked from Steve’s disappearing back and then to Eddie again. “Eddie,” he said quietly, “I know you’re upset. I know this is…hard, and you know it certainly ain’t easy for me neither. And if you wanna yell at me, well you yell at me. But don’t you take this out on your boy, he’s doin’ his best too.”
And fuck, if that didn’t make Eddie cry harder. He sagged on the couch, a small noise escaping his throat as the tears started to run freely again. He hadn’t meant to upset Steve, hadn’t meant to upset his uncle either, he was just so fucking tired and worried for Wayne.
Wayne sighed, squeezing his hand. “Go talk to him,” he tipped his head in the direction of Steve and Eddie’s room.
Eddie dragged a hand across his wet cheeks. “What about you?” he asked hoarsely.
“Well, if it’ll make you happy, I’ll get myself to bed, how’s that?” Wayne suggested with a faint smile.
And it would make Eddie happy, but he forced himself to remember he wasn’t the only person in this equation. “You don’t have to,” he answered weakly.
“No, but you know me well, son, and I am tired as hell.”
Eddie made his way to Steve. Knocked softly on the bedroom door, opened it despite not getting an answer.
Steve was lying on the bed, facing the wall, arms wrapped around his middle.
“Sorry,” he murmured when Eddie approached, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…to overstep, I know he’s not well, I just thought being outside would make him happy, I won’t ask him again.”
“Oh, Stevie.” Eddie’s tears started afresh, and he sunk down next to Steve, hand brushing up his back. “It did make him happy. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m just fucking worried about him.”
“I know,” Steve replied, his voice small.
He hadn’t turned to face Eddie, so Eddie wrapped his arms around him from behind instead, nosing into Steve’s neck. His gaze drifted across Steve’s cheeks, seeing a mirror of his own tear-tracks there.
“I’m sorry, Steve,” he repeated in a whisper.
“S’ok.”
“He loves you so much,” Eddie continued, “He told me he felt better out there today than he had in a long time.”
“That’s good.”
“Yeah.” It was. “Maybe…maybe we can come up with something, talk to Wayne about some easy things he could do outside. Or he could go out in the early morning or in the evening, when the sun’s not so bad, since he’s so damn stubborn about wearing sunblock.”
Steve smiled a little. “That’d be nice.”
“Maybe you can even teach me a thing or two in the garden, and Wayne can just watch and yell instructions from his rocking chair,” Eddie laughed softly into Steve’s neck.
Steve rolled over, pressing his lips briefly to Eddie’s. He tasted of salt.
“He’d like that, I think,” Steve agreed. He reached for Eddie’s hand, pressed it against his and brought it up into the light, studying it.
“What’cha doing?” Eddie murmured, teasing smile pulling at his lips.
Steve frowned, studying his hand, then broke into a small smirk. “Hmmm….nope, no green thumb there. Not even a trace of one, me and Wayne are gonna have our work cut out for us.”
Eddie mock gasped, then laughed, kissing Steve again.
A loud cough came from the direction of the lounge and Eddie froze in Steve’s arms, then started to extract himself, tension flooding his system again.
“Hey,” Steve said, gently tugging him back down, “Listen. He’s ok.”
Eddie searched Steve’s face, looked for any sign of doubt as he listened intently. Wayne had gone quiet again, the coughing fit passing without event.
“See?” Steve whispered, brushing hair back from Eddie’s face. “He’s ok. We’ve got him.”
Eddie nodded, Steve’s t shirt clutched tightly between his fingers.
“We’ve got him,” he parroted back, the words sinking into the sun-soaked walls, into the seedlings planted with shaky hands in the shade of the orange tree.