"Sister, we're two of a kind."

[foreverfabulous]

Who: Paris and Gen Hart
What: Family
Where: Mount Sinai
When: Saturday

Normally, Paris would go straight home after his treatment, usually to bed. Today wasn't a normal situation, though. Far from it. He had been kept in the loop with what was going on, but as much as he normally would have rushed tot he hospital to help out if he could, he wasn't well enough to hit the ground running. It would only make things messier if he was getting in the way in the middle of the night when shit was hitting the fan and he could well end up wiped out way worse for days. He had to be at the hospital at six am anyway, today being one of his early morning starts. Instead of getting Mikey to take him straight home, he went up to the ICU where he knew Gen would be. Mikey went out to hit the shops to get a get well present for Justin. Uncle prerogative, especially when you felt helpless in any other way.

Getting there, he immediately spotted a maintenance crew working on fixing the smashed window, the area cordoned off with hazard tape. He enquired what room Justin was in now, only to be gestured to the room directly in front of the large circular nurses' station in the middle of the unit. Made sense. Gen was sitting with Justin and he already knew Mark was at a doctor's appointment of his own. That was one of the biggest swinging factors for Paris to make sure he got there that morning, so Gen didn't have to do it alone. "Hey, fancy seeing you here. I was just in the neighbourhood, thought I'd stop by," he said, taking the seat beside her and leaning over to kiss her cheek. "I'd offer to get you coffee, but if I don't sit, I'm going to puke. How you holding up, sis? Any news?"

Comments

[asskickingblahniks]

"Hey... what are you doing here? How are you feeling? You look like you should be in bed," Gen murmured, taking his hand once he was sitting. She knew now, in depth, how chemo made Paris feel. She had ditched the ostrich suit and its accompanying bucket of sand to bury her head in, and made sure she had her finger to the pulse with all her family. That meant facing a lot of tough reality but she felt more confident where she was now. It felt right, and not like everything was crashing and burning around her. Only, things had their way of crashing and burning anyway, and now she was here for it, and not somewhere else. Here was fucking painful. But so was life. It was one of those harsh reminders that she did have a son, and he was sick. When shit happened, it could inevitably happen more to him. She ached for him. She ached for Sasha. She ached for Mark see Justin like this again. She ached for Amarlie seeing it really for the first time. She ached for herself, because she could never believe things happened for a reason when shit like this was hurting her family.

There was an unopened bottle of water by Justin's bed that had been there prior to all this latest mess in case he woke up thirsty. She gave it to Paris and put her arm around him, softly, because she knew chemo gave him universal pain through his body. Instead of relaying the latest, she just opened the soundfile she now had on her phone, turned the volume down low and played it for Paris to hear.