All the chapter titles are constellations if ya'll haven't noticed. They were all picked specifically for each chapter ^-^
_____
Oliver couldn't stand it.
It was only five minutes of his life, but it felt like five hours. He could see Baby in there, lying on the cold metal table, biting his cheek to keep from shivering. The machine around him made him look tinier than ever, and Oliver wanted nothing more than to scoop him up and take him home. They'd been at the hospital all day. Oliver was tired, and he couldn't imagine how Baby must feel. And now he was going through radiation on top of it.
"Can I talk to him again?" Oliver asked Dr. Williams.
The man shook his head. "Darley needs to be talking to him right now. He's going to be okay, Oliver."
Oliver took a deep breath, and wrung his hands together. All he could do was wait. At least he wasn't in the waiting room. He imagined getting into the ambulance and then having to wait outside the cancer wing for a whole night and then the whole following day, without seeing Baby or knowing anything that was going on. This was better, he reminded himself. This was was as good as it was going to get.
After the excruciating five minutes, it was over. Dr. Darley went in to help Baby up, and Baby stumbled with her towards the door. Oliver was waiting with a wheelchair ready. Baby looked at him gratefully, but didn't sink right into it as Oliver expected. Instead, he leaned forward to give Oliver a hug.
"Hey, you alright?" Oliver asked.
Baby nodded. "Not as bad as chemo," he mumbled into Oliver's chest.
Oliver grinned. "Good. Thank god."
"Thank god," Baby echoed.
Oliver kissed the top of his head, and Baby slipped from his arms into the wheelchair. He slumped down, exhausted, and Oliver sighed. It was nearly eight pm. They probably were going to get back to the apartment and go straight to bed.
"How are you feeling?" Dr. Williams asked Baby in a gentle voice.
Baby gave a wicked cough before answering. The motion made his entire body contract, and Oliver winced at how painful it looked.
"Tired," Baby said. "Can I get the cannula back?"
Dr. Williams sighed. "I'd really prefer you not going on oxygen until absolutely necessary. Carrying around the tank will be an extra exhauster, and insurance will be a nightmare. You can still breathe fairly easily without it and I'd like to keep it that way for as long as possible."
"But he's in pain," Oliver interjected. "Isn't there something we can do?"
"There are several breathing exercises you can try, and menthol often helps, if you have any."
"Breathing exercises," Oliver repeated incredulously. "He has cancer."
"And sometimes they can be extremely beneficial," Williams said.
"How can--"
"Oliver," Baby interrupted him quietly. "It's alright. I'm fine. I just want to go sleep."
Oliver felt the frustration building in his throat but he swallowed it down.
"Fine, okay. Can we keep the wheelchair?"
Dr. Williams must have felt awful, because he sighed and nodded his head. "Bring it back tomorrow."
So Oliver rolled baby back out to the car, finally. Baby was already dozing where he sat, feet tucked up under him. Getting him into the car took minimal effort because Baby was so damn light. He was as easy to move around as a rag doll.
The radio rolled quietly as they drove home, no words shared between them. It was comfortable, though, and Oliver held Baby's hand over the gear shift.
"You think you can walk in?"
"Yeah," Baby said sleepily. "Just let me lean on you?"
"Always."
So they made their way into the apartment, one step at a time. They beelined straight for the bedroom, not even stopping to take their clothes off. The bed felt like a cloud, and Oliver sighed with relief. Fuck, it was better than a plastic hospital chair.
Baby gave a great yawn, and Oliver joined him.
"How you feeling?" Oliver asked him, reaching out to brush a hand across Baby's back.
Baby rolled over so he was facing Oliver, a tired little smile on his face.
"Better, I think," he said. "But that's probably just the sleep talking."
"No matter what's talking, I'm glad for it."
"Me too."
They scooted closer together, so Oliver could hold him tighter. It felt good, it felt right. Finally. Oliver sighed, snuggling further into Baby and pressing his lips to his head once again. The skin was soft there. Oliver thought it felt just as nice as when Baby had hair.
"I have a violin performance soon," Baby said.
"Oh?"
"It's my final eval for Comp."
"Comp?" Oliver asked. "Like composition? Does that mean you wrote it?"
"Yeah, I did," Baby said. "It's a short little piece, about eight minutes. But I've been working all semester on it."
"Holy shit," Oliver said. "That's huge Baby."
Baby nodded. "It is. And I'm scared."
"Well that makes sense, it's a big deal. But I know you'll do great, you're the best violin player in this school."
"It's not that," Baby whispered.
Oliver frowned. "Then what?"
"What if I won't be able to play?"
Oliver's heart sank in his chest. He recalled the last time he'd seen Baby play the violin. He'd been moving with the instrument as much as the music had been moving; he'd been sweating buckets by the end of the performance. Baby had just gotten out of the hospital in a wheelchair. He could barely stand more than five minutes without needing a break. Not to mention he'd been so sick with chemo he'd been missing a fair amount of class and not practicing at all. Oliver was loathe to admit it, but there was a very real possibility Baby wouldn't be able to play.
He couldn't say this though, not in this soft moment after Baby had just gone through so much.
"You'll be able to play Baby," Oliver said. "We can ask Dr. Williams to take a few days off chemo and radiation before, so you have a while to recover."
"We can do that?"
Oliver made a little noise in the back of his throat. "Of course we can do that Baby. You don't have to do anything the doctors say, you know."
"I don't?"
Oliver pulled Baby away from him a little bit, so he could look the other in the eyes. Baby's face swam with worry and apprehension. Oliver couldn't believe it. But then again, maybe he could. What if Baby didn't know how to say no to people?
"Sweetheart, you're still in charge of your own body," Oliver told him sincerely. "You may be fighting cancer, and doctors do know best, but you're the only one that knows you. It may feel like you're not in control of anything right now, but you still are. And if you don't want to do something, you do not have to do it."
Baby started crying then, soft little tears that spilled out of his eyes as if without a thought. Oliver felt his heart pang, and he pulled Baby back into his embrace. Baby cried into his chest for a while, until the quiet hiccups dissipated. Oliver thought he had fallen asleep, until he heard a mumbled "thank you".
"You're always welcome," Oliver said.
A couple beats of silence followed, and Oliver bit his lip. It still felt like something was wrong. Maybe it was just the general atmosphere, but Oliver didn't like the idea of going to sleep on such a depressing note. The whole day had been exhausting and awful and it felt like if he didn't do something about it then tomorrow would be the same way.
"You know," Oliver began in a soft voice. "I didn't get a haiku this morning."
He thought Baby hadn't heard him for a moment, but then the other responded. "Do you want one right now?"
"I'd like that very much."
So Baby kept quiet, thinking. Oliver pictured him crafting the words in his head. He thought about that often, how Baby's mind worked. He wondered what it was like living in it. He bet Baby's thoughts sounded like music.
"Okay I've got it."
"I'm ready."
"Wrapped around my thumb / you, like a snake, cling deep and / whisper me asleep."
Oliver counted syllables in his head, and eventually came to the conclusion that yes, it was a haiku.
"How do you do that?" Oliver asked. "How do you just come up with stuff like that?"
He felt Baby shrug. "I don't know. I've just got all these words swimming around in my head that need to come out, I guess. It's just a matter of letting them."
Oliver shook his head incredulously. "You're the coolest person I know."
"I better be, idiot."
And so they fell asleep together, tangled fast in each others arms.