Merlin Timothy Blake (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
magicmoments) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dreamlikenewyork2019-08-24 12:21 am
magicmoments) wrote in dreamlikenewyork2019-08-24 12:21 am
"Where has my light gone? Where has my fight gone? What keeps us burning when the fire's long gone?"
Who: Merlin and Brandon Blake vs. The Universe
What: Where has my light gone?
Where: Mount Sinai, NYC
When: Couple of days after this
Things with Brandon had taken a bad turn. Overnight, his condition deteriorated but his test results showed the conditioning irradiation with chemo and radiation therapy was successful in killing the cancer cells in his body… but it also, as expected, annihilated his immune system so he was now in a full isolation room with restricted visitation. Not that visitation mattered because he was barely waking now. Tara was keeping him on top level morphine dosage, which knocked him out, on top of an extensive cocktail of other meds to try and make this as easy as possible for him. There just wasn’t anything ‘easy’ about it.
But the day had finally come for Merlin’s procedure to harvest his healthy bone marrow from his hip bones for transplanting into Brandon, so that was adding to his anxiety. The worse Brandon got, the more hope Merlin lost that he could survive this. He didn’t know exactly when the procedure was but they told him he could wait with Brandon until they had to take him to the OR. He had lost track of time because he hadn’t slept in over two days. He knew Brandon really would have wanted to be awake and here for Merlin going into the procedure but he wasn’t well enough. All Merlin could do was sit and hold his hand. He tried to nap but he couldn’t alleviate the anxiety and fear of what could come next. He would go for his procedure in the morning where they harvested his bone marrow
At least the isolation room was a decent size with a large window that had views over Central Park but it was still claustrophobic. Especially considering Merlin now had to wear infection control gowns, gloves, caps, and masks. Until the bone marrow infusion was given and Brandon’s immune system started to recover, this was going to be the norm. The room was sterile, clinical, and lonely. It was so strange to feel this heavy loneliness when Brandon was still right there. Merlin was just struggling to shake the feeling he was slipping away.
Beside him on the bed, his phone sat untouched. He had tried to keep texting with his family and friends, giving them updates, hoping their replies would hold him up when he most needed it heading into his procedure. But it got too hard. Eventually, all he did was send a bulk text to his closest loved ones that just said: Sorry I can’t keep talking rn. Txt Damo or Jess for updates, they can get them from Tara, Lachlan or Beau. ilu all but it’s too hard. Everyone understood and his phone stopped dinging with notifications. He knew they would be there waiting for him after the procedure, just like they promised.
He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, and effort to brace himself to just keep going. He didn’t even realise he had fallen asleep until he was suddenly woken by a screeching shill of sirens or warning bells, followed by a swarm of medical staff rushing into Brandon’s room, some still trying to tie the barrier gowns on. Beau was the first in, leading everything, issuing firm orders to the other staff as a nurse pulled Merlin away from the bed and another was lowering Brandon’s bed down flat.
“W-What-- what’s happening! What’s wrong?!” he begged, not wanting to be dragged away but that’s exactly what the nurse was trying to do to him and he did his best to reflexively fight it. The machines wouldn’t stop screaming and he could see something was gravely wrong with Brandon.
This was it. Brandon was dying.
“BP’s dropping. He’s crashing. Kelsie, call a code! Take Merlin to wait outside. I need to intubate. Have the paddles ready.” Beau ordered the nurse who had a hold of Merlin, trying to pull him out of the room. As soon as the nurse folded Brandon’s blankets down so they could access his chest, they could see what the problem was. The bottom half of Brandon’s gown was soaked in blood and it was pooling beneath him, the white sheets covered. “Fuck, he’s hemorrhaging!”
The nurse who was trying to pull Merlin out of the room pushed a code blue button on the way out of the room but it wasn’t quick enough for Merlin not to see all that blood. It was so bad that as soon as Beau leaned over Brandon to tend to him, the front of his scrubs were smeared in blood. Then Brandon started to vomit blood as well and any direct view of him was blocked by scrubbed bodies swarming the bed. Tara rushed in then and as soon as she saw the blood, she halted Nurse Kelsie at the door. “Page Lachlan. Keep Merlin close. We’ll need his orders.”
What the fuck did that mean? It was the last Merlin got before he was inevitably pulled away from Brandon, covered in blood and clearly suddenly fighting for his life… or was he already dead? The next hour or so was the worst of his life. If it was even an hour. It felt like a year. It felt like a lifetime before anyone came to offer updates or information and even when they did, all the nurse told him was that they had to rush Brandon for emergency exploratory surgery to find the source of the bleeding and stop it. Merlin had little left to do but stand there and sob because not being able to see what they were doing to Brandon made it so much worse.
When someone finally could come with more information, he was glad it was Lachlan’s familiar face, even if it caused him to break down all over again with a sob that shook his whole body. “Please don’t tell me he’s dead! I’m not ready. I’m not ready!”
“He’s hangin’ on.” Lachlan put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and gently guided him up the hall to a private family room. Once there, he got Merlin a cup of water from the cooler and coaxed him to sit on the sofa with him. “I’m goin’ to apologise in advance, buddy, but we need to have a really difficult chat.”
Merlin was shaking his head. “No. No, you can’t pull the plug. You can’t! You can fix the bleeding! You’ve done it before! I-I can’t do--”
Lachlan stopped Merlin with a hand on his forearm. “That’s nay it. Nay yet. Let me explain to you what’s happened, aye? Take some deep breaths and have a wee sip of water. You have every right to be terrified and upset but the difficult reality is he has legally requested you be his medical proxy, which means in the event he cannae make his own medical decisions, you have to step in.” He offered Merlin the box of tissues to wipe his eyes and nose.
“You’re gonna tell me you can’t do the transplant, aren’t you?” Merlin murmured so softly, it was almost a whisper. But he sipped the water and accepted some tissues. “Did he lose too much blood? Is the cancer in his organs?”
Lachlan shook his head. “His cancer cells have been killed off with the irradiation. He’s had a really severe internal hemorrhage that’s come from his gut. Because of the amount of blood he lost, he went into something we call hypovolemic shock, which cause respiratory and cardiac arrest. The bleeding was cauterized in the OR and we’re giving him units of blood to replenish what he lost. But he’s in a bad way, buddy. He isnae conscious and he isnae breathing on his own at the moment so we’ve had to initiating mechanical ventilation, which is a life support system. At this point, for allogeneic transplant where the donor marrow is now from the patient’s own body, many patients would choose to halt the transplant process and commence palliative because the chances of the body being strong enough to survive the transplant are significantly less where the system is struggling.” He saw Merlin was shivering all over, so he took the cup of water from him.
Merlin’s hands were shaking so badly, he nearly dropped the water. He was grateful when Lachlan took the cup. He put his hands up to his face with a sob. “Fuck, please don’t say it. Please don’t say it…”
“I’m so sorry, buddy, but we need you to decide if you want us to proceed with the transplant or we keep him comfortable and let him pass without further medical intervention. If you decide to go ahead, I want to get you to theatre for the marrow harvest ASAP and we will proceed with his bone marrow infusion within twenty-hour hours to give his body the best fighting chance of engraftment before he deteriorates further.” Lachlan paused, giving Merlin some time to process what he was saying. He watched him closely, wishing it hadn’t had to come to this. “I also need to advise you with full disclosure that if you choose not to proceed, he may only last a week or two, at best. With a totally suppressed immune system, he willane bounce back.”
Tears were spilling over and Merlin couldn’t stop it. He was in shock because it was hard to think. There was a ringing in his ears and he wondered if this was what an out-of-body experience felt like. As much as he knew it was Brandon’s wish for Merlin to make these choices if it came to it, suddenly, Merlin didn’t want to think about any of it. “Does he have any chance of surviving the transplant? Or would it just be for the sake of it?” he asked and his voice was gravelly and choked.
“He has a chance. I wouldnae just pay you lip service with this. Not only is that nay how I operate as a doctor in this field but I made him a promise that if there came a time we knew the transplant would absolutely not be successful, I would say. He has a chance but it’s slim. Still a chance, though. It’ll be like a lottery, and just dependent on how much more he can take.” Lachlan couldn’t think of any other appropriate metaphor to help Merlin understand the enormity of what he was facing.
“How long can I have to decide?” Merlin swallowed and wiped his eyes but he was feeling sick and very much like he wanted to run away. “Am I allowed to see him?”
Lachlan checked his watch and considered that Merlin would need to be taken to theatre for the harvest procedure as soon as they could get him there if he gave the green light. “I dinnae want to rush you, buddy. At all. But if you can make the choice by late this afternoon, it would give us the window of opportunity to start as soon as possible. Aye, of course you are. They’ll have him back from Recovery in a wee while. But I’d really strongly suggest talking to your family so you arenae alone right now. Maybe get a wee bit of fresh air and think it all over very closely. I’m here and Tara’s here if you have any questions. For the moment, he’s comfortable. He willnae be in any pain. If you give me the directions to keep him on the ventilator for now, it will give you the time you need. But his legal directives specifically say you need to make the call to continue with any sort of life support.”
Merlin didn’t know how the fuck he was supposed to do all this, even if all of this is what he promised Brandon he would do if things took a turn for the worst. He just hadn’t let himself face the real possibility it would, and even if he did, he expected it to be post-transplant, not before it. He was about to say something but he choked up, not able to speak through how much he was in shock. But he had to try. He had to keep the promises he made to Brandon. Not just to him, but also in his wedding vows, and his agreement with Brandon’s Five Wishes directives that he would be the one to make medical (or otherwise) decisions for him if he couldn’t. “I-I need a pen,” he got out but it was like he had lost his voice.
Lachlan gave Merlin his pen from the pocket of his lab coat and got up to get him some paper from the drawer of the desk by the wall. “Merlin, I want you to understand I’ve been in you shoes and I know exactly what you’re goin’ through. It’s nay due to cancer but we nearly lost Tara when she was pregnant with our first bairn. It was the hardest decision of my life to keep her on life support but I couldnae face turnin’ it off. Nay one is supposed to be able to do this. It’s one of the worst situations in the world anyone could ever face. You need to do what you feel is right. He chose you to make these decisions because he loves you and he doesnae want anyone else makin’ those choices for you. He’s your husband.”
Merlin closed his eyes and listened to what Lachlan was saying. He needed to hear it all. Because he knew how much they had survived as a couple and were now alive and well to be the ones fighting to save Brandon’s life, his last possible chance. Even Lachlan had survived a near-fatal shooting and he knew Tara nearly lost him multiple times while he was in the ICU. It gave Merlin the tiniest glimmer of hope to just try to hold on and not completely lose it. But he could barely even hold the pen, his hand was shaking so badly. He had to hold it with his other hand to even manage to get legible words on the paper.
Eventually, he managed to write, I, Merlin Blake, direct Brandon Blake’s care team to continue any necessary life support treatment until a decision regarding progressing with the planned stem cell transplantation treatment is made. He signed his married name, even if it was barely readable, and Lachlan took the pen to sign as witness.
“Do you want me to call someone to come be with you, buddy? Jess is on shift, we can bring him off the ward, nay problem,” Lachlan offered.
Merlin shook his head and hunched over, burying his face in the crook of his arm. “I just wanna be alone. Please let me know when I can see him.”
“Stay here as long as you need. If you need help, the staff are here. I’m only a page away. If you want to talk to someone, we can have a counsellor brought down.” Lachlan rubbed Merlin’s back but didn’t labour the point with him. Merlin knew what was on his shoulders and he knew people who loved him and Brandon very much were nearby. He needed to be alone and that wasn’t an unusual response for loved ones facing awful situations like this. As hard as it was because Merlin was a friend, he left him alone as he requested.
#
Merlin struggled to stay in the claustrophobic family room alone. He completely broke down once Lachlan left him alone and worked himself up into a full panic attack, bolting from the room just to escape the feeling the walls were about to crush in on him. And even if he didn’t want anyone there to talk him through this, because no words could be enough, he called Wesley in tears and begged him to come to the hospital to help him.
When Wesley arrived at the hospital and found where Merlin was, he just knew Merlin didn’t need him to talk. He didn’t know exactly what was going on but he could tell something seriously bad had happened to Brandon. And Wes had seen Merlin in all sorts of emotional states over the years but he had never seen him this broken. Ever. The first thing he thought was they had told him Brandon was terminal and there was no point proceeding with the transplant treatment but he didn’t want to ask. All he did was pull Merlin into a hug and hold him while he sobbed. He would hold him and not say a word for as long as he needed.
And it was a long time but Merlin’s emotions were so volatile right now that fear began to infuse with anger and he pulled away. They had the ‘luxury’ of a vacated waiting area in the Oncology Unit where Tara invited him to wait while they tried to stabilise Brandon in Recovery. Even if he had tried to run, he didn’t get far before he stopped himself, not wanting to be too far away for anyone to find him if the worst news about Brandon had to come. He paced, knotting his fingers through his hair when he was no closer to knowing what the fuck the best decision was to make.
Wesley sat down on the end of one of the sofas, biting his lip and wringing his hands in front of him as he watched Merlin’s distressed pacing. Even through the waves of tears that kept resurging every time he neared being able to stop them, he could see Merlin hadn’t slept in days, at least. He knew he had been sick and stressed because Brandon’s condition had been deteriorating. Very little information or updates had come and the latest before Merlin called him hysterical was that Brandon had been in and out of consciousness from pain and exhaustion. Everyone would be lying if they didn’t admit to themselves they were bracing for news Brandon had lost the fight. Wesley couldn’t even imagine what Merlin was feeling.
His phone vibrated in his pocket with a text notification. He had turned the volume down because Merlin didn’t need random unimportant phone calls hitting Wesley’s phone intercepting. He took it out to check who it was, not surprised when he saw it was from Damien.
[ DAMIEN ] How is he, Wes?
Wesley checked on Merlin again but he was sure Merlin barely knew he was there. Or he knew and appreciated his silent presence. He shot a reply back. He’s inconsolable and freaking out. I gotta go, Damo. He needs me. He put his phone back in his pocket, back to chewing his lip. “Merl, is he…?” Fuck, he couldn’t even say it himself, no wonder Merlin couldn’t.
“Something went wrong. A-And… he’s on life support.” Merlin stopped pacing to putting his hands up to his face. “Now, because I’m his medical proxy, I have to decide whether to go ahead with the transplant when… w-when it’s only got a tiny chance of him even surviving it now. Or to j-just… let him go.” In a fresh flood of tears, he went over to the large window and rested his forehead against it, hugging himself.
Standing still only made him feel woozy but moving did nothing to alleviate the urge to run away. He started to pace again, when it was some limbo between the two and some fruitless attempt to help his mind to work the way it should to make this decision. “I’ve only got ‘til this afternoon. How the fuck am I supposed to know what to do? I know he’s my husband and this is what he wanted. He wanted me to be the one to make the decisions but this wasn’t ‘sposed to be happening like this! It was only ‘sposed to be if there were complications after the transplant! I was ‘sposed to have more fucking time! I was ‘sposed to be able to say goodbye! Fuck!” he screamed at both everything and nothing all at once, and before he even knew what he was really doing, the anger and distress over what he was facing all rushed forward and he punched the wall by the window.
This was such an out-of-character thing for Merlin to do that Wesley nearly fell off his seat in fright. The crack he heard when Merlin’s fist connected with the wall didn’t help and considered it didn’t even make a dent in the wall, likely made of something like steel or cement, it had to have been Merlin’s wrist or hand that made the crack. “Merlin, fuck!” he cried, jumping up and running over to him. He automatically went to take Merlin’s hand to check for damage but as soon as he saw it, his wrist, the back of his hand, and knuckles were already a dark mottled purple. Merlin was nursing it against his chest at an awkward angle and he looked like he was in shock at what he just did. Before Wesley knew what he should do, Merlin’s phone started to ring in his pocket and with the ringtone, Bad Case of Loving You (Doctor, Doctor) ringtone, in any other situation, it could’ve been laughable.
The ring jolted Merlin back to reality when he was losing his shit. It had been Brandon’s idea to set that song as a ringtone for Lachlan when they were waiting on news of a donor match, before they discovered Merlin was the one. They had just never thought to change it back. “It’s Lachlan,” choked out, trying to catch his breath. He was suddenly in raging physical pain on top of all the emotional agony inside but he was barely noticing it.
Wesley’s heart leapt up into his throat and he looked down at Merlin’s ringing pocket. Shit, was Lachlan calling to tell Merlin Brandon was gone? Could that happen on life support? “I… do you want me to answer?”
Merlin shook his head. “No, just… get my phone.” He waited while Wes fumbled in his pocket for him to get the phone out then hit the answer button on the screen. “Yeah?” he answered, still struggling to catch his breath through the adrenaline rush of hitting the wall and his eyes were still damp with tears.
“Merlin? It’s Lachlan. Brandon’s just been brought back to Critical Care. You can come see him in the ICU when you’re ready. I just need to prepare you that he’s got some bruising from the resuscitation but he’s stabilised,” Lachlan told him gently.
“O-Okay. I’m coming.” Merlin nodded and Wesley ended the call. “He’s back from Recovery. I gotta go be with him.” He took his phone off Wes and turned to leave the waiting area.
“Wait, Merl! Your arm,” Wesley tried to stop him because from the look of Merlin’s hand now, something was definitely broken. He didn’t know what he could do to help, whether he should follow or let Merlin go with a possibly broken arm to try to face the horrible decision he had with Brandon’s life.
Merlin just shook his head and kept walking, still nursing his hand to his chest. “It doesn’t matter.”
Wesley’s stomach was hurting from sheer helplessness watching Merlin suffer like this. There was no way he could even put himself in Merlin’s shoes to empathise with what he was going through. Few people could. He just swallowed back the lump in his throat. “Call me if you need me, buddy. I’ll be around somewhere.” And all he could do was watch Merlin go.
#
For a long time, Merlin could just stand in the doorway of Brandon’s ICU isolation room, hand up to his mouth, albeit over the top of a face mask. He was wearing an infection control gown, gloves, a medical cap over his hair. It was the only way they could let him touch Brandon. Despite Lachlan’s warning that the Code Blue resuscitation left Brandon bruised, the dark black/blue smears over his arms, neck, and face were confronting and a cruel, chilling reality check. The tube in his mouth was breathing for him, slow wheezy compressions accompanying the beeps of the monitors. It took a lot for Merlin to remember how his feet worked to stiffly shuffle over to the bed.
He put his hand carefully over Brandon’s resting unmoving at his side. His skin was still warm, a pitiful reassurance he wished he didn’t have to think about. Brandon was so much closer to death than he had been this morning and Merlin’s heart hadn’t caught up with the turn for the worst yet. His wrist and hand were hurting so much it had pushed over to that numb burning throb encasing his arm up to his elbow, nursed against his torso. When he got to the ward, Lachlan spotted his hand but Merlin didn’t want the help. All he wanted was to see Brandon and somehow figure the fuck out what he should do. There was a massive part of him that felt the best thing to do was just let Brandon go so he didn’t suffer anymore. It was simply too terrifying to consider… he didn’t have a choice but to, though.
With his uninjured arm, Merlin brought Brandon’s hand up to his cheek, holding the backs of his fingers there so he had a little skin-to-skin contact through the medical barrier gear. “Fuck, darlin’... what do I do? Please, just wake up. I know you can’t right now, but fuck…”
When he started to cry again, he took his glasses off and dropped them on the bed by Brandon’s hip, resting his head down on Brandon’s hand and just letting the tears come. But he didn’t let himself get stuck there. With a heavy bracing exhalation, he lifted his head, blinking to try to clear his fuzzy vision through the tears. He looked up at the lines on the heart monitor… even, rhythmic, consistent. Every beat of Brandon’s heart was recorded, like the visual was needed to remember he was still alive because he certainly didn’t look it. How could he have been awake just a few hours before? He was ill and in pain but he had been communicating, responding, alive. When Merlin held his hand then, he squeezed it back. Now it was just still and lifeless.
He didn’t even still have his wedding ring on. Merlin had put it on his own finger, nestled against his own wedding ring. Brandon had lost so much weight, none of his rings fit. They slipped off and he hadn’t wanted anyone to accidentally lost his wedding or engagement rings. “Fuck. Fuck, okay.” He closed his eyes again and tried to take some deep breaths to coax himself into a place he could make a decision. Whether he wanted to or not, he had to make the call. Whatever that was, he knew he would have to live with it for the rest of his life. He so fucking wished he was one of those beautiful, selfless people of the world who could do something like make the call to shut off the life support of someone they loved to stop their suffering and let them go peacefully… but he didn’t think he could do it.
“Fucking hell! Why!” He roughly pushed back out of the chair, the feet scraping on the lino and he was back to pacing; stalking back and forth at the end of Brandon’s bed, shaking his head not to himself but to everything. All the fucking shit the world had dumped on Brandon, like he deserved to be suffering like this. Why couldn’t it be a fucking murderer or pedophile in this bed? People said no one life was worthy more than the next but that was fucking bullshit. How was it fair that someone like Brandon had to give his life up at twenty-three fucking years old and cunts were out there harming kids, taking innocent lives, existing perfectly healthy?
His mind and heart weren’t done rapidly spiralling him through every step of the grief cycle yet. “Please, why can’t it be anyone else but him? We came so close. He had a chance! Please, please just let this happen to anyone else but him…” But no one was listening. He was in this alone and he didn’t think he had ever felt this alone in his entire life, not even through his self-imposed exile to London to try to accept that he was adopted.
Defeated, he sunk heavily back into the chair at Brandon’s side and took his phone out. He brought up the lockscreen, now his favourite picture of him and Brandon at their wedding. Jaxson caught a quiet moment between them outside beneath a tree with fairy lights strung above them. They were laughing, foreheads tucked together in a content embrace. It almost felt like someone else’s memories right now. How could they go from that to this? All the sounds of the life support felt like they were drilling into his brain, like they were taunting him to fuck this up and make the wrong decision. He couldn’t think, so he took his EarPods out of his pocket and shoved them into his ears so he could play some music to try to drown the cacophony of noises Brandon’s sliver of life was reduced to. He hit play on one of Brandon’s playlists shared to his Apple Music and Don't Fight It by The Panics started playing.
He drew in a deep breath and opened Instagram, hitting the [ + ] at the bottom of the screen for a new post. Bringing his phone screen up to his forehead, he bit his lip, squeezing his fingers around the rim of the phone. “Fuck…” he whispered yet again, more tears breaking free and spilling over. Quickly, before losing his nerve, he added two photos and stood up, kissing Brandon’s forehead. His lips lingered, feeling a chill to his skin like he was already losing his fight for life. The new units of blood transfusing into him weren’t even enough to breathe life back into him.
“I love you so fucking much. Please try to keep fighting. Just a bit longer, darlin’. I’m so sorry…” he murmured and then stepped away from the bed, typing in a caption for the Instagram post, hurrying out of the room to where Lachlan was sitting at the main ICU desk. “We’re doing it. Now, before I lose my nerve,” he choked out and as soon as Lachlan nodded, jumping up from the desk ready to hit the ground running on the procedure to harvest Merlin’s bone marrow, Merlin hit post on his Instagram post ‘accidentally’ outing Brandon Blake as his gay husband to the entire world, just like he promised...
LOG, COMPLETE
What: Where has my light gone?
Where: Mount Sinai, NYC
When: Couple of days after this
Things with Brandon had taken a bad turn. Overnight, his condition deteriorated but his test results showed the conditioning irradiation with chemo and radiation therapy was successful in killing the cancer cells in his body… but it also, as expected, annihilated his immune system so he was now in a full isolation room with restricted visitation. Not that visitation mattered because he was barely waking now. Tara was keeping him on top level morphine dosage, which knocked him out, on top of an extensive cocktail of other meds to try and make this as easy as possible for him. There just wasn’t anything ‘easy’ about it.
But the day had finally come for Merlin’s procedure to harvest his healthy bone marrow from his hip bones for transplanting into Brandon, so that was adding to his anxiety. The worse Brandon got, the more hope Merlin lost that he could survive this. He didn’t know exactly when the procedure was but they told him he could wait with Brandon until they had to take him to the OR. He had lost track of time because he hadn’t slept in over two days. He knew Brandon really would have wanted to be awake and here for Merlin going into the procedure but he wasn’t well enough. All Merlin could do was sit and hold his hand. He tried to nap but he couldn’t alleviate the anxiety and fear of what could come next. He would go for his procedure in the morning where they harvested his bone marrow
At least the isolation room was a decent size with a large window that had views over Central Park but it was still claustrophobic. Especially considering Merlin now had to wear infection control gowns, gloves, caps, and masks. Until the bone marrow infusion was given and Brandon’s immune system started to recover, this was going to be the norm. The room was sterile, clinical, and lonely. It was so strange to feel this heavy loneliness when Brandon was still right there. Merlin was just struggling to shake the feeling he was slipping away.
Beside him on the bed, his phone sat untouched. He had tried to keep texting with his family and friends, giving them updates, hoping their replies would hold him up when he most needed it heading into his procedure. But it got too hard. Eventually, all he did was send a bulk text to his closest loved ones that just said: Sorry I can’t keep talking rn. Txt Damo or Jess for updates, they can get them from Tara, Lachlan or Beau. ilu all but it’s too hard. Everyone understood and his phone stopped dinging with notifications. He knew they would be there waiting for him after the procedure, just like they promised.
He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, and effort to brace himself to just keep going. He didn’t even realise he had fallen asleep until he was suddenly woken by a screeching shill of sirens or warning bells, followed by a swarm of medical staff rushing into Brandon’s room, some still trying to tie the barrier gowns on. Beau was the first in, leading everything, issuing firm orders to the other staff as a nurse pulled Merlin away from the bed and another was lowering Brandon’s bed down flat.
“W-What-- what’s happening! What’s wrong?!” he begged, not wanting to be dragged away but that’s exactly what the nurse was trying to do to him and he did his best to reflexively fight it. The machines wouldn’t stop screaming and he could see something was gravely wrong with Brandon.
This was it. Brandon was dying.
“BP’s dropping. He’s crashing. Kelsie, call a code! Take Merlin to wait outside. I need to intubate. Have the paddles ready.” Beau ordered the nurse who had a hold of Merlin, trying to pull him out of the room. As soon as the nurse folded Brandon’s blankets down so they could access his chest, they could see what the problem was. The bottom half of Brandon’s gown was soaked in blood and it was pooling beneath him, the white sheets covered. “Fuck, he’s hemorrhaging!”
The nurse who was trying to pull Merlin out of the room pushed a code blue button on the way out of the room but it wasn’t quick enough for Merlin not to see all that blood. It was so bad that as soon as Beau leaned over Brandon to tend to him, the front of his scrubs were smeared in blood. Then Brandon started to vomit blood as well and any direct view of him was blocked by scrubbed bodies swarming the bed. Tara rushed in then and as soon as she saw the blood, she halted Nurse Kelsie at the door. “Page Lachlan. Keep Merlin close. We’ll need his orders.”
What the fuck did that mean? It was the last Merlin got before he was inevitably pulled away from Brandon, covered in blood and clearly suddenly fighting for his life… or was he already dead? The next hour or so was the worst of his life. If it was even an hour. It felt like a year. It felt like a lifetime before anyone came to offer updates or information and even when they did, all the nurse told him was that they had to rush Brandon for emergency exploratory surgery to find the source of the bleeding and stop it. Merlin had little left to do but stand there and sob because not being able to see what they were doing to Brandon made it so much worse.
When someone finally could come with more information, he was glad it was Lachlan’s familiar face, even if it caused him to break down all over again with a sob that shook his whole body. “Please don’t tell me he’s dead! I’m not ready. I’m not ready!”
“He’s hangin’ on.” Lachlan put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder and gently guided him up the hall to a private family room. Once there, he got Merlin a cup of water from the cooler and coaxed him to sit on the sofa with him. “I’m goin’ to apologise in advance, buddy, but we need to have a really difficult chat.”
Merlin was shaking his head. “No. No, you can’t pull the plug. You can’t! You can fix the bleeding! You’ve done it before! I-I can’t do--”
Lachlan stopped Merlin with a hand on his forearm. “That’s nay it. Nay yet. Let me explain to you what’s happened, aye? Take some deep breaths and have a wee sip of water. You have every right to be terrified and upset but the difficult reality is he has legally requested you be his medical proxy, which means in the event he cannae make his own medical decisions, you have to step in.” He offered Merlin the box of tissues to wipe his eyes and nose.
“You’re gonna tell me you can’t do the transplant, aren’t you?” Merlin murmured so softly, it was almost a whisper. But he sipped the water and accepted some tissues. “Did he lose too much blood? Is the cancer in his organs?”
Lachlan shook his head. “His cancer cells have been killed off with the irradiation. He’s had a really severe internal hemorrhage that’s come from his gut. Because of the amount of blood he lost, he went into something we call hypovolemic shock, which cause respiratory and cardiac arrest. The bleeding was cauterized in the OR and we’re giving him units of blood to replenish what he lost. But he’s in a bad way, buddy. He isnae conscious and he isnae breathing on his own at the moment so we’ve had to initiating mechanical ventilation, which is a life support system. At this point, for allogeneic transplant where the donor marrow is now from the patient’s own body, many patients would choose to halt the transplant process and commence palliative because the chances of the body being strong enough to survive the transplant are significantly less where the system is struggling.” He saw Merlin was shivering all over, so he took the cup of water from him.
Merlin’s hands were shaking so badly, he nearly dropped the water. He was grateful when Lachlan took the cup. He put his hands up to his face with a sob. “Fuck, please don’t say it. Please don’t say it…”
“I’m so sorry, buddy, but we need you to decide if you want us to proceed with the transplant or we keep him comfortable and let him pass without further medical intervention. If you decide to go ahead, I want to get you to theatre for the marrow harvest ASAP and we will proceed with his bone marrow infusion within twenty-hour hours to give his body the best fighting chance of engraftment before he deteriorates further.” Lachlan paused, giving Merlin some time to process what he was saying. He watched him closely, wishing it hadn’t had to come to this. “I also need to advise you with full disclosure that if you choose not to proceed, he may only last a week or two, at best. With a totally suppressed immune system, he willane bounce back.”
Tears were spilling over and Merlin couldn’t stop it. He was in shock because it was hard to think. There was a ringing in his ears and he wondered if this was what an out-of-body experience felt like. As much as he knew it was Brandon’s wish for Merlin to make these choices if it came to it, suddenly, Merlin didn’t want to think about any of it. “Does he have any chance of surviving the transplant? Or would it just be for the sake of it?” he asked and his voice was gravelly and choked.
“He has a chance. I wouldnae just pay you lip service with this. Not only is that nay how I operate as a doctor in this field but I made him a promise that if there came a time we knew the transplant would absolutely not be successful, I would say. He has a chance but it’s slim. Still a chance, though. It’ll be like a lottery, and just dependent on how much more he can take.” Lachlan couldn’t think of any other appropriate metaphor to help Merlin understand the enormity of what he was facing.
“How long can I have to decide?” Merlin swallowed and wiped his eyes but he was feeling sick and very much like he wanted to run away. “Am I allowed to see him?”
Lachlan checked his watch and considered that Merlin would need to be taken to theatre for the harvest procedure as soon as they could get him there if he gave the green light. “I dinnae want to rush you, buddy. At all. But if you can make the choice by late this afternoon, it would give us the window of opportunity to start as soon as possible. Aye, of course you are. They’ll have him back from Recovery in a wee while. But I’d really strongly suggest talking to your family so you arenae alone right now. Maybe get a wee bit of fresh air and think it all over very closely. I’m here and Tara’s here if you have any questions. For the moment, he’s comfortable. He willnae be in any pain. If you give me the directions to keep him on the ventilator for now, it will give you the time you need. But his legal directives specifically say you need to make the call to continue with any sort of life support.”
Merlin didn’t know how the fuck he was supposed to do all this, even if all of this is what he promised Brandon he would do if things took a turn for the worst. He just hadn’t let himself face the real possibility it would, and even if he did, he expected it to be post-transplant, not before it. He was about to say something but he choked up, not able to speak through how much he was in shock. But he had to try. He had to keep the promises he made to Brandon. Not just to him, but also in his wedding vows, and his agreement with Brandon’s Five Wishes directives that he would be the one to make medical (or otherwise) decisions for him if he couldn’t. “I-I need a pen,” he got out but it was like he had lost his voice.
Lachlan gave Merlin his pen from the pocket of his lab coat and got up to get him some paper from the drawer of the desk by the wall. “Merlin, I want you to understand I’ve been in you shoes and I know exactly what you’re goin’ through. It’s nay due to cancer but we nearly lost Tara when she was pregnant with our first bairn. It was the hardest decision of my life to keep her on life support but I couldnae face turnin’ it off. Nay one is supposed to be able to do this. It’s one of the worst situations in the world anyone could ever face. You need to do what you feel is right. He chose you to make these decisions because he loves you and he doesnae want anyone else makin’ those choices for you. He’s your husband.”
Merlin closed his eyes and listened to what Lachlan was saying. He needed to hear it all. Because he knew how much they had survived as a couple and were now alive and well to be the ones fighting to save Brandon’s life, his last possible chance. Even Lachlan had survived a near-fatal shooting and he knew Tara nearly lost him multiple times while he was in the ICU. It gave Merlin the tiniest glimmer of hope to just try to hold on and not completely lose it. But he could barely even hold the pen, his hand was shaking so badly. He had to hold it with his other hand to even manage to get legible words on the paper.
Eventually, he managed to write, I, Merlin Blake, direct Brandon Blake’s care team to continue any necessary life support treatment until a decision regarding progressing with the planned stem cell transplantation treatment is made. He signed his married name, even if it was barely readable, and Lachlan took the pen to sign as witness.
“Do you want me to call someone to come be with you, buddy? Jess is on shift, we can bring him off the ward, nay problem,” Lachlan offered.
Merlin shook his head and hunched over, burying his face in the crook of his arm. “I just wanna be alone. Please let me know when I can see him.”
“Stay here as long as you need. If you need help, the staff are here. I’m only a page away. If you want to talk to someone, we can have a counsellor brought down.” Lachlan rubbed Merlin’s back but didn’t labour the point with him. Merlin knew what was on his shoulders and he knew people who loved him and Brandon very much were nearby. He needed to be alone and that wasn’t an unusual response for loved ones facing awful situations like this. As hard as it was because Merlin was a friend, he left him alone as he requested.
Merlin struggled to stay in the claustrophobic family room alone. He completely broke down once Lachlan left him alone and worked himself up into a full panic attack, bolting from the room just to escape the feeling the walls were about to crush in on him. And even if he didn’t want anyone there to talk him through this, because no words could be enough, he called Wesley in tears and begged him to come to the hospital to help him.
When Wesley arrived at the hospital and found where Merlin was, he just knew Merlin didn’t need him to talk. He didn’t know exactly what was going on but he could tell something seriously bad had happened to Brandon. And Wes had seen Merlin in all sorts of emotional states over the years but he had never seen him this broken. Ever. The first thing he thought was they had told him Brandon was terminal and there was no point proceeding with the transplant treatment but he didn’t want to ask. All he did was pull Merlin into a hug and hold him while he sobbed. He would hold him and not say a word for as long as he needed.
And it was a long time but Merlin’s emotions were so volatile right now that fear began to infuse with anger and he pulled away. They had the ‘luxury’ of a vacated waiting area in the Oncology Unit where Tara invited him to wait while they tried to stabilise Brandon in Recovery. Even if he had tried to run, he didn’t get far before he stopped himself, not wanting to be too far away for anyone to find him if the worst news about Brandon had to come. He paced, knotting his fingers through his hair when he was no closer to knowing what the fuck the best decision was to make.
Wesley sat down on the end of one of the sofas, biting his lip and wringing his hands in front of him as he watched Merlin’s distressed pacing. Even through the waves of tears that kept resurging every time he neared being able to stop them, he could see Merlin hadn’t slept in days, at least. He knew he had been sick and stressed because Brandon’s condition had been deteriorating. Very little information or updates had come and the latest before Merlin called him hysterical was that Brandon had been in and out of consciousness from pain and exhaustion. Everyone would be lying if they didn’t admit to themselves they were bracing for news Brandon had lost the fight. Wesley couldn’t even imagine what Merlin was feeling.
His phone vibrated in his pocket with a text notification. He had turned the volume down because Merlin didn’t need random unimportant phone calls hitting Wesley’s phone intercepting. He took it out to check who it was, not surprised when he saw it was from Damien.
[ DAMIEN ] How is he, Wes?
Wesley checked on Merlin again but he was sure Merlin barely knew he was there. Or he knew and appreciated his silent presence. He shot a reply back. He’s inconsolable and freaking out. I gotta go, Damo. He needs me. He put his phone back in his pocket, back to chewing his lip. “Merl, is he…?” Fuck, he couldn’t even say it himself, no wonder Merlin couldn’t.
“Something went wrong. A-And… he’s on life support.” Merlin stopped pacing to putting his hands up to his face. “Now, because I’m his medical proxy, I have to decide whether to go ahead with the transplant when… w-when it’s only got a tiny chance of him even surviving it now. Or to j-just… let him go.” In a fresh flood of tears, he went over to the large window and rested his forehead against it, hugging himself.
Standing still only made him feel woozy but moving did nothing to alleviate the urge to run away. He started to pace again, when it was some limbo between the two and some fruitless attempt to help his mind to work the way it should to make this decision. “I’ve only got ‘til this afternoon. How the fuck am I supposed to know what to do? I know he’s my husband and this is what he wanted. He wanted me to be the one to make the decisions but this wasn’t ‘sposed to be happening like this! It was only ‘sposed to be if there were complications after the transplant! I was ‘sposed to have more fucking time! I was ‘sposed to be able to say goodbye! Fuck!” he screamed at both everything and nothing all at once, and before he even knew what he was really doing, the anger and distress over what he was facing all rushed forward and he punched the wall by the window.
This was such an out-of-character thing for Merlin to do that Wesley nearly fell off his seat in fright. The crack he heard when Merlin’s fist connected with the wall didn’t help and considered it didn’t even make a dent in the wall, likely made of something like steel or cement, it had to have been Merlin’s wrist or hand that made the crack. “Merlin, fuck!” he cried, jumping up and running over to him. He automatically went to take Merlin’s hand to check for damage but as soon as he saw it, his wrist, the back of his hand, and knuckles were already a dark mottled purple. Merlin was nursing it against his chest at an awkward angle and he looked like he was in shock at what he just did. Before Wesley knew what he should do, Merlin’s phone started to ring in his pocket and with the ringtone, Bad Case of Loving You (Doctor, Doctor) ringtone, in any other situation, it could’ve been laughable.
The ring jolted Merlin back to reality when he was losing his shit. It had been Brandon’s idea to set that song as a ringtone for Lachlan when they were waiting on news of a donor match, before they discovered Merlin was the one. They had just never thought to change it back. “It’s Lachlan,” choked out, trying to catch his breath. He was suddenly in raging physical pain on top of all the emotional agony inside but he was barely noticing it.
Wesley’s heart leapt up into his throat and he looked down at Merlin’s ringing pocket. Shit, was Lachlan calling to tell Merlin Brandon was gone? Could that happen on life support? “I… do you want me to answer?”
Merlin shook his head. “No, just… get my phone.” He waited while Wes fumbled in his pocket for him to get the phone out then hit the answer button on the screen. “Yeah?” he answered, still struggling to catch his breath through the adrenaline rush of hitting the wall and his eyes were still damp with tears.
“Merlin? It’s Lachlan. Brandon’s just been brought back to Critical Care. You can come see him in the ICU when you’re ready. I just need to prepare you that he’s got some bruising from the resuscitation but he’s stabilised,” Lachlan told him gently.
“O-Okay. I’m coming.” Merlin nodded and Wesley ended the call. “He’s back from Recovery. I gotta go be with him.” He took his phone off Wes and turned to leave the waiting area.
“Wait, Merl! Your arm,” Wesley tried to stop him because from the look of Merlin’s hand now, something was definitely broken. He didn’t know what he could do to help, whether he should follow or let Merlin go with a possibly broken arm to try to face the horrible decision he had with Brandon’s life.
Merlin just shook his head and kept walking, still nursing his hand to his chest. “It doesn’t matter.”
Wesley’s stomach was hurting from sheer helplessness watching Merlin suffer like this. There was no way he could even put himself in Merlin’s shoes to empathise with what he was going through. Few people could. He just swallowed back the lump in his throat. “Call me if you need me, buddy. I’ll be around somewhere.” And all he could do was watch Merlin go.
For a long time, Merlin could just stand in the doorway of Brandon’s ICU isolation room, hand up to his mouth, albeit over the top of a face mask. He was wearing an infection control gown, gloves, a medical cap over his hair. It was the only way they could let him touch Brandon. Despite Lachlan’s warning that the Code Blue resuscitation left Brandon bruised, the dark black/blue smears over his arms, neck, and face were confronting and a cruel, chilling reality check. The tube in his mouth was breathing for him, slow wheezy compressions accompanying the beeps of the monitors. It took a lot for Merlin to remember how his feet worked to stiffly shuffle over to the bed.
He put his hand carefully over Brandon’s resting unmoving at his side. His skin was still warm, a pitiful reassurance he wished he didn’t have to think about. Brandon was so much closer to death than he had been this morning and Merlin’s heart hadn’t caught up with the turn for the worst yet. His wrist and hand were hurting so much it had pushed over to that numb burning throb encasing his arm up to his elbow, nursed against his torso. When he got to the ward, Lachlan spotted his hand but Merlin didn’t want the help. All he wanted was to see Brandon and somehow figure the fuck out what he should do. There was a massive part of him that felt the best thing to do was just let Brandon go so he didn’t suffer anymore. It was simply too terrifying to consider… he didn’t have a choice but to, though.
With his uninjured arm, Merlin brought Brandon’s hand up to his cheek, holding the backs of his fingers there so he had a little skin-to-skin contact through the medical barrier gear. “Fuck, darlin’... what do I do? Please, just wake up. I know you can’t right now, but fuck…”
When he started to cry again, he took his glasses off and dropped them on the bed by Brandon’s hip, resting his head down on Brandon’s hand and just letting the tears come. But he didn’t let himself get stuck there. With a heavy bracing exhalation, he lifted his head, blinking to try to clear his fuzzy vision through the tears. He looked up at the lines on the heart monitor… even, rhythmic, consistent. Every beat of Brandon’s heart was recorded, like the visual was needed to remember he was still alive because he certainly didn’t look it. How could he have been awake just a few hours before? He was ill and in pain but he had been communicating, responding, alive. When Merlin held his hand then, he squeezed it back. Now it was just still and lifeless.
He didn’t even still have his wedding ring on. Merlin had put it on his own finger, nestled against his own wedding ring. Brandon had lost so much weight, none of his rings fit. They slipped off and he hadn’t wanted anyone to accidentally lost his wedding or engagement rings. “Fuck. Fuck, okay.” He closed his eyes again and tried to take some deep breaths to coax himself into a place he could make a decision. Whether he wanted to or not, he had to make the call. Whatever that was, he knew he would have to live with it for the rest of his life. He so fucking wished he was one of those beautiful, selfless people of the world who could do something like make the call to shut off the life support of someone they loved to stop their suffering and let them go peacefully… but he didn’t think he could do it.
“Fucking hell! Why!” He roughly pushed back out of the chair, the feet scraping on the lino and he was back to pacing; stalking back and forth at the end of Brandon’s bed, shaking his head not to himself but to everything. All the fucking shit the world had dumped on Brandon, like he deserved to be suffering like this. Why couldn’t it be a fucking murderer or pedophile in this bed? People said no one life was worthy more than the next but that was fucking bullshit. How was it fair that someone like Brandon had to give his life up at twenty-three fucking years old and cunts were out there harming kids, taking innocent lives, existing perfectly healthy?
His mind and heart weren’t done rapidly spiralling him through every step of the grief cycle yet. “Please, why can’t it be anyone else but him? We came so close. He had a chance! Please, please just let this happen to anyone else but him…” But no one was listening. He was in this alone and he didn’t think he had ever felt this alone in his entire life, not even through his self-imposed exile to London to try to accept that he was adopted.
Defeated, he sunk heavily back into the chair at Brandon’s side and took his phone out. He brought up the lockscreen, now his favourite picture of him and Brandon at their wedding. Jaxson caught a quiet moment between them outside beneath a tree with fairy lights strung above them. They were laughing, foreheads tucked together in a content embrace. It almost felt like someone else’s memories right now. How could they go from that to this? All the sounds of the life support felt like they were drilling into his brain, like they were taunting him to fuck this up and make the wrong decision. He couldn’t think, so he took his EarPods out of his pocket and shoved them into his ears so he could play some music to try to drown the cacophony of noises Brandon’s sliver of life was reduced to. He hit play on one of Brandon’s playlists shared to his Apple Music and Don't Fight It by The Panics started playing.
He drew in a deep breath and opened Instagram, hitting the [ + ] at the bottom of the screen for a new post. Bringing his phone screen up to his forehead, he bit his lip, squeezing his fingers around the rim of the phone. “Fuck…” he whispered yet again, more tears breaking free and spilling over. Quickly, before losing his nerve, he added two photos and stood up, kissing Brandon’s forehead. His lips lingered, feeling a chill to his skin like he was already losing his fight for life. The new units of blood transfusing into him weren’t even enough to breathe life back into him.
“I love you so fucking much. Please try to keep fighting. Just a bit longer, darlin’. I’m so sorry…” he murmured and then stepped away from the bed, typing in a caption for the Instagram post, hurrying out of the room to where Lachlan was sitting at the main ICU desk. “We’re doing it. Now, before I lose my nerve,” he choked out and as soon as Lachlan nodded, jumping up from the desk ready to hit the ground running on the procedure to harvest Merlin’s bone marrow, Merlin hit post on his Instagram post ‘accidentally’ outing Brandon Blake as his gay husband to the entire world, just like he promised...
LOG, COMPLETE