Harmless Things (Jean Hobbs AU)

Part twenty-seven

Daniel P.O.V.

My family and I were miserable, dark grey clouds compared Jack who had a sunshine personality. He could light up a whole room just by merely being in it and his laughter spread like a virus that made the people nearest to him giggle and the ends of other people's lips tug upwards.

I didn't trust him at first, but the look in his eyes when he looked at Dean had me warm to him slowly to the point where I knew I didn't have to worry at all and I asked how he was whenever I saw him. He visited the hospital almost daily, but I don't really know how he coped with the pressure to entertain us somehow. Nothing appeared to bother him though and he never seemed to run out of jokes or funny stories or witty comments and his carefree attitude was a breath of fresh of air after our own months of constant worry. 

I never really knew what to think when I looked at my sister apart from 'we're going to lose her'. Dean had told me it was terminal last week while we were watching TV, but I knew that when he asked if I wanted to watch something together he had something to tell me because that was usually how he broke things to me. I couldn't really concentrate on what was on screen when I was waiting for him to tell me what it was and in anticipation I got fidgety and anxious. 

"It's terminal," he said quietly, not looking at me. 

"What?" 

"Scarlett's cancer. It's terminal," he was still staring the TV but I was certain that he had no idea what was going on and that his thoughts were really miles away. 

"What does that mean?" 

"It means that..." He took a deep breath. "Eventually she's going to die. It's slowly killing her and nothing they do will be able to stop it," we turned our heads to look at each other at the same time and I could see his eyes beginning to water. 

"Oh. How long?"

"A month, two at most."

We hugged for a long time after that. Half an hour, maybe more, I wouldn't really know. For the first time in a while, we were actually brothers instead of a carer and a child. We were both feeling the same pain and feeling scared about what we were going to lose. In a weird kind of way I liked how we put everything else aside and could understand each other, but the way in which we could relate wasn't in the slightest a good thing. 

I felt Dean crying before I heard it. The shake of his shoulders broke down the wall he had put up again after he first told me about the bullying and his heartbreak but I didn't say anything, nothing could be said. His tears soaked my shirt and the hold he had on me hurt my ribs, but the only thing that really mattered here was that he was that his trust in me was building. 

His quick rushed sobs were enough to attract the attention of our mother who came into the lounge with a tea towel in one hand looking concerned, but she didn't say anything either and instead sat down at the edge of the sofa next to Dean and rubbed his back soothingly until the ringing of the landline some minutes later saved her from doing that protective thing she hated. 

Dean pulled away from me after she had left and smiled at me weakly after wiping his eyes. 

"Your shirt's wet," he pointed out, his head nodding at the rather large patch like I hadn't noticed. "You should probably throw that in the wash." 

"I was going for a shower anyway," I shrugged. "It doesn't matter." 

"You do that and I'll ring Jack, I think he said he needed help with something."