Blue Boy

Genesis

*scrape*
*scrape*
*scr-*

"Dammit! Mmph.." Clammy fingers reach up to touch the freshly shaved head. Pulling them down before his eyes reveals crimson dripping down the calloused digits. "Ah, huh." He examines the blood, twisting and turning his hand, watching the red lines race eachother down to his palm. He'd have to be more careful next time. A spot of toilet paper makes the bright river stop, and a warm rag wipes away it's traces. The man rinses his hands under the tap, drying them with a towel as he looks back up in the mirror.

Bald. And slightly stained pink, with missed patches of hair here and there. You never know what a bumpy head you have till you have to shave it. But it was better than the pain of his hair falling out on its own.

He rinses his razor and puts it away, throwing the bloodied rag in the sink and the torn bits of red toilet paper in the trash.

"Walt? Everything okay?" a singsong voice hollers up from downstairs. The man looks in the mirror once again, grimacing at his appearance before shouting back. "Yeah, I'm fine. Coming."

Footsteps thud down the stairs, and the smell of sweet and salty breakfast meets Walter's nose. Pancakes, eggs, and bacon, plus the much needed cup of coffee. Same every morning. Much of Walt's life was the same every day. Even down to the clothes he wore. And just like every other morning, he was greeted by his teenage son, Walt Jr., and his lovely wife Sky (as well as her baby bump). Walt smiles at them both, giving Skylar a kiss on the cheek before sitting next to their son.

"Hey dad, you got something," Walt Jr. starts, pointing a finger at his own head where Walt's had a patch of red spotted tp. His father gives a small smile and a short laugh, running a hand over his scalp.

"Had some trouble shaving," he murmurs, wincing slightly as Skylar presses a finger against the wound.

"Oh honey, I said I'd be happy to help if you needed it," his wife murmurs, her blue eyes examining her husband's new appearance.

They had gotten the diagnosis two months ago, but the changes from treatment still felt so sudden. The hair loss was a given, everyone knows chemo makes you lose hair. But the weakness, the shakiness, having to bleach the toilet and everything. Walt didn't mind the side effects, he knew treatment wasn't going to be easy, but why were they paying so much money for it to be so horrid?

"Thank you, but I'm fine. Still working out the kinks of it." Walt was always reassuring them, but he had to do it more with the whole cancer thing. He wasn't some frail brittle old man. He didn't need to be babied. Hell, besides the shaving and almost radioactive bowel movements and nausea, he was fine.

Skylar and Jr. stare at him for a moment before going back to their tasks. Jr. was eating a breakfast sandwich concoction, while his mom drank her decaf coffee. Walter looks down at his plate of eggs and bacon, letting out a short breath before taking a measley bite.

"Marie and I are going to that new store downtown. She said they had some maternity clothes that won't make me look like a blimp," Skylar says, running a pale hand over her bump.

They weren't exactly planning on having a second child, but they were thrilled nonetheless. They were, before the cancer diagnosis. Right now Walt felt like there couldn't be a worst time to add a family to the household. What if he's still sick when the baby comes? Even without cancer, the man was 50 for Christ's sake. He was happy, but it was bittersweet. And the financial situation. They were barely staying afloat right now. How would they afford another child?

"Dad? Dad, are you okay?" Walter Jr. waves a piece of bacon in front of his dad's face, pulling the man from his thoughts. Walter looks him in the eye, then slowly glanced towards his wife. A concerned look was on her glowing face.