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 Posted: Thu Aug 18, 2011 10:13 pm
Paris didn't fight as Chris helped him into the living room, though he didn't remove his hands from his face either, and he didn't find breathing to be all that simple even with Chris encouraging him to do so. His shoulders shook and his chest heaved and he just wanted to sink down somewhere and not move, so he was a bit relieved to feel the soft cushion of the couch beneath him, and curled in on himself, forming a wretched looking, distraught ball.
Chris's use of the pet name almost had him crying harder, as it reminded him of his mother and her insistence one speaking to him in such a way. He always found it annoying when she did it now, though he'd loved it as a child, but somehow, for no reason that he could positively explain aside from the fact that Chris was not his mother and he actually liked him, it sounded better coming from him. Sympathetic, caring, somewhat nurturing, but not in his mother's overbearing way.
"I'm not going... back to school," he repeated, unsure what else he wanted to say now that he was actually trying to speak.
Truthfully, the idea of never going back to Hillworth didn't bother him. It was merely the circumstances behind his withdrawal that made the idea of leaving school difficult to swallow. He'd have liked to leave in retaliation of something, make a statement as he strutted out the doors, not because of his ailing father.
"My dad's sick," he forced out. He paused then to take a few quick breaths, clamped his mouth shut again in an attempt to regain control over himself, but let the breath out in another sob. Uselessly he wiped at his face with his hands, but the tears he swept away were soon replaced by more. "He collapsed at work on... on Monday," he eventually continued. "And I... I just... I have to take care of him."
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Posted: Thu Aug 18, 2011 10:41 pm
Chris leaned over her as she cried, unable to think of anything else to do but just... keep her company in a time like this. He reached out to brush at her hair and try and get her to lift her head so he could at least put a pillow under it if she insisted on curling up into a ball like that. What else could he do, anyway?
"Shhh," he tried to encourage her again, wanting her to stop crying, but he also wanted her to know he was there for her. He felt as though his heart had been clenched tightly within his chest for a brief moment when Paris finally told him about her father. Well, s**t... What was going to happen, now? It wasn't like her mother lived in Destiny City any more. She couldn't come and help out, could she?
Reaching down, Chris carefully wedged his hand between her shoulder and the couch, pulling her up not just to sit again, but so he could hug her against his chest. "I'm here to help you, baby," he told her, trying to shush her gently as he spoke, rubbing his hand down her back to try and get her to concentrate on something other than all the horrible stuff going on in her life at the moment. "Let me help you... you're not alone, okay...?"
He didn't understand why he said that, but he'd always thought Paris was a lonely person, despite her usual enthusiasm and cheerfulness. It must have been difficult, being an only child in a divorce that sent one parent far away, and then to be stuck at home with one she didn't really get alone with. He felt guilty knowing that the biggest problems his family has had is not knowing the next time he'd see his father, or if he would even survive through rough times at sea. Hurricanes and tsunamis were the worst of their problems in friendly waters. Then there were the threat of air raids and enemy subs and all that.
But that was nothing to Paris's father actually being sick and needing to be taken care of. "Where is he now...?" he asked, not thinking Paris would leave him alone unless it was cleared by a doctor, but still. Chris wondered vaguely why he wasn't told sooner. Maybe Paris didn't think he would help her, or maybe she just didn't want to talk about painful things...? He would have had to find out eventually, anyway...
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Posted: Fri Aug 19, 2011 10:30 am
Part of him didn't even think he should be this upset. It wasn't as if his father had lived a very healthy life. It almost could have been expected that something like this would happen eventually, all things considered. Yet he'd never entertained the thought before, and now he thought he should have. Maybe he could have prevented it, or put it off for a while longer. It wouldn't have been hard. His dad might not have liked it, but... it wouldn't have been hard.
Again, Paris didn't fight as Chris moved him, simply allowed himself to be maneuvered and curled up against Chris's chest instead, finally lowering his hands from his face to grasp at Chris's shirt.
"He's... he's at home," he said in a shaky voice. His throat was starting to hurt from how tight it was, and his chest continued to heave with his erratic breathing. "He came home yesterday. They couldn't release him sooner because he was running a fever. I... I couldn't stay there tonight. I don't know what to do!"
There was nothing to do at home, except watch his father waste away on the couch. He would have to face it eventually -- and he intended to -- but he needed... well, he didn't know what he needed. Time, maybe. Comfort...
"But I decided not to go back to school because I wanted... to help run his store," he continued. He wasn't calming down completely, but it became easier to talk the more he did it. "Anyone else could do it, but... but it has to be me. And my mom doesn't get it. She doesn't understand at all. She keeps saying I should come to New York with her, and I don't want to. She left and everything's all her fault!"
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Posted: Fri Aug 19, 2011 8:53 pm
Paris's father was at home by himself? Was that okay...? Er, well he supposed it must be, otherwise they wouldn't have sent him home from the hospital. Chris just had to wonder if there was anything more that could be done to help out.
He brushed at Paris's hair as she rested against his chest, his other arm wrapped around her to hold her in place. "Shh, I know. Just take a deep breath," he tried convincing her again, trying to figure out what he could possibly say. He couldn't make false promises of 'it'll be okay' when they don't know if things will be. He knew he would do his best to make sure she was safe and cared for, but it was a little different when she was worrying about her father. "Was it... a heart attack?" he ventured, wary that anything he said might result in more waterworks from her. "Did they say what was wrong with him?"
Chris wasn't really sure if her dropping out of school was the best idea, but if that was her decision then there wasn't much he could do about it. For now, he hugged her close and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "Okay... okay, alright... calm down, please," he said softly, still wanting her to be able to breathe. "Just let me know what I can do to help and I'll do it, okay? You don't have to do this alone. If you don't know what to do, I can help you through it, okay...? I might not understand everything right now, but I want to... and I'm not going anywhere," he promised. After all... he couldn't. Not when he had school and people he cared about.
"If you need a place to stay the night, you're welcome here. If you need help with the shop, I can pick up a few shifts if you'd like. I'm sure my parents would like to help out, too. They might know a doctor who can help your father... and don't worry about money," he insisted, knowing that she might not like using his money if her pride kicks in.
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Posted: Sun Aug 21, 2011 4:34 pm
Paris's throat closed up on him as Chris continued to ask question after question in quite possibly the most concerned and sympathetic voice Paris had heard in... forever, probably. He was suddenly finding that his recent ease in talking didn't last long, and he was reduced to shaking and nodding his head in answer without really knowing if he was giving the right ones. He'd never felt so miserable before, and he didn't know what to do about it except keep crying.
There was one thing, however, that he was sure of, and that was that he didn't want to become a charity case to the Gallos, no matter how willing and able to help they might be.
"I don't want your money," he said. He recognized this as the first time he'd ever seriously tried to stop Chris from paying for him, but the circumstances were a bit different, and the cost involved was a bit higher than dinner or a movie or an ice-cream cone at the park. "It's too much, Chris. My dad won't accept it and neither will I."
He let go of Chris's shirt and wiped at his eyes some more, swallowing hard to force his throat back open, and pulling back to grab a tissue from the box Chris had placed next to him so that he could wipe his nose. He was sure he looked pretty unattractive at the moment, but he found that he didn't care much.
"Thank you, though," he added. He didn't want Chris to think he was unappreciative. "It's his heart and his liver. He's never taken very good care of himself, so in some ways it's not that surprising, and you already know he drinks. If he ends up needing a transplant on his liver, I can't do it because I'm not a match," he continued, and then looked at Chris with a frown before his boyfriend could speak again, "and don't you offer because I can't let you do that."
Maybe if he hadn't been lying to him, things would have been different. Instead, he didn't think he had the right to be accepting such generous gifts. And he knew Chris would have offered; he was too good not to.
"I'm just so tired..."
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Posted: Mon Aug 22, 2011 11:09 am
"Okay... okay," he said quickly, not wanting Paris to start getting upset about his offer. He really didn't mind offering to pay for expenses, but he knew that if she said she wasn't going to take his money, then that was that. "I was just offering..." he added, before leaning in to press a kiss against her forehead.
There was only so much either of them could do at this point. He could only hope that her father would want to fight this. If it was both his heart and his liver, well... It might be tough.
It was also probably good that she nixed the whole liver transplant thing, because he probably would have offered. He didn't know a lot about transferring organs, but he knew he was a universal donor for blood.
"I know..." he told her, brushing at her hair and letting her rest against him. "Let's go to bed, okay...?" he offered, figuring her appetite was ruined at this point. He'd be fine not eating anything. It wasn't like he'd starve, after all. And it was safer to wait until Paris felt like cooking to actually, well, cook anything. He certainly didn't want to turn everything he touched to charcoal.
Chris carefully pulled himself away from Paris, holding out his hands to help her up from the couch. "Your stuff is already upstairs... I'll clean up down here if you want to get changed." It was a fair trade off, right? Maybe the food was cooked enough to save for tomorrow. He would just stick the whole thing into a container to be refrigerated.
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Posted: Mon Aug 22, 2011 11:17 am
He felt horrible for not cooking dinner when he'd been the one to suggest the idea in the first place, but he consoled himself with the knowledge that if Chris were truly hungry, he'd eat anyway. It wasn't as if there wasn't any other food in the apartment. Neither of them would starve if they didn't want to.
He nodded at the prospect of sleep, but mumbled a quiet apology all the same. "I'm sorry..."
Paris didn't linger long by the couch, and left Chris to clean up as he slowly climbed the stairs up into the loft, digging into his bag for the nightgown, face wash, and toothbrush he'd packed with him. Then, he closed himself off in the bathroom, and took a bit longer getting ready for bed than he usually would have, washing his face first, before listlessly removing his clothes.
He didn't look at himself in the mirror. He knew he looked bad. Skinny, pale, tear stained. Not his preferred look at all. He could do without seeing the misery in his own eyes.
Once he was done washing up, he exited back out onto the loft and shoved his things back into his bag, then crawled onto Chris's bed to curl up and bury his face into one of the pillows.
Minutes later, he was fast asleep.
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