Harmless Things (Jean Hobbs AU)

Part thirty-five

Dean P.O.V.

Two weeks later


"Dean? Dean? Sweet, you need to let go of me, I need to go to school." 

"No." I replied bluntly, keeping my eyes shut as I tried to get back to sleep. 

"Dean-" 

"Stay. I don't want you to go to school, you'll get hurt there." 

"I'll be fine, I promise, it's not been too bad recently. I'll be back tomorrow." 

"Tomorrow?" I whined tightening my grip on him. 

"Yeah, I think I should spend tonight at home since I have a lot of homework to catch up on but once it's done you can have me whenever you like for the rest of the week." He pulled himself away from me despite my efforts to keep him there and he tucked me back in, kissing me on the cheek. 

"Bring me tea," I mumbled. "You know how this works."

"Are you getting up now?"

"No, but the opportunity's there." I heard Jack release something that was a mix in between a laugh, a sigh and a groan and I smirked when I heard him leave the room and the switch of the kettle some moments later.

I was thankful that our sofa was squishy enough to sleep on when I snuggled back into it but missing how I could move in closer to Jack when he was with me. We slept on the sofa together whenever he stayed over so Dan could stay in our room and wouldn't feel uncomfortable.

Over the past couple of weeks, Jack's parents had tolerated his sexuality enough to let him in the house but they avoided him at all costs and he had to make his own dinner. But for the majority he stayed over at mine and he was always welcomed like a member of the family.

"It's not really any different, it's not like I ever saw them anyway. It just gives me an excuse to eat really unhealthy things for dinner that only take like 5 minutes in the microwave," Jack shrugged when I brought it up last. "I think they've forgotten that they tried to ban me from seeing you, but even if they haven't it's not like they could stop me." 

"It bothers you though, doesn't it?" 

"Kind of. But I'll live." 

He always said that, brushed off the whole thing like he didn't have a care in the world but I could tell that it upset him more than he let on. I did as much as I could to give him all the chances in the world to talk about it if he wanted to, but he just ignored subject as if it were something unimportant like a conversation about frogs and in the end I just let him be as open as he wanted, knowing he would come to me if needed to like before. 

I didn't quite understand how a feeling could keep people together. The type of love I felt for my family was different to being in love for Jack, but whatever kind of love I felt for whoever, it kept the bond and I'd do what I needed to for them unconditionally.

So I suppose that was why I took care of Scarlett as much as I could, sometimes staying up until the early hours of the morning listening to her speak her mind about anything and everything when she felt up to it and wiping away her tears when she cried. I was watching her fade away and it was painful and I didn't want to see it anymore, but I couldn't lock her away and try to forget that she existed, because she was my sister and I loved her and the relationship we had made the promise that I would stick by her through whatever and give her my endless support. 

That promise was made months ago - years, even - before the cancer, before she joined school, before the violence and abuse started, way back when I was eight years old and saw her as a new born for the first time. 

But I had failed one simple thing as a brother and that was to protect her - to help make her way through this life unscathed. I would have to admit that I did my best throughout the years: I would catch her before she fell and patch her up when she tripped. I hid her away from our violent father in the evenings every day for three years straight and searched the ends of the internet to look up any kind of cancer treatment that would save her life. 

Sometimes there are no resolutions for problems. Sometimes things are so broken you have to accept you can't fix it no matter what kind of glue you use. 

Scarlett's health was broken. The surgery, chemotherapy and drugs were glue. They didn't fix her. They couldn't put her back together again. And even though it was hardest thing I had to do, I accepted it. I accepted that she was dying and what could've been done was done. 

I hadn't really said my goodbyes to her yet, but I was ready to now. But how do you say your final goodbyes? To your sister? To anyone? What do you say? Where do you begin? Maybe the words just come themselves and you don't have to do any thinking, or at least, that was what I was hoping for, anyway. 

I feel like I had so much to say and yet nothing at all, because everything I could think of seemed irrelevant. Goodbyes were important. They left you with an impression as much a 'hello's did. Final goodbyes were crucial since you wouldn't be seeing them again, so they had to perfect. No room for regrets. 

I felt more stressed the more I thought about it all and my mind was spinning, so I sat up and stayed awake even though I had intentions to fall back asleep before and the cup of tea that Jack made me was the beginning of my morning routine rather than a luxury I had tried to sneak in.

Before he left I hugged him tightly so I could secure that last bit of affection and then tilted my head up, catching my lips with his. 

"We're not a real couple if I don't kiss you goodbye before you leave." I remarked when we pulled away. 

"Obviously not," he laughed. He stopped suddenly though when he observed me and I felt everything being written all over my face. My uncertainty, my fear, my stress. I needed him here, but he had his own things to deal with and it's not like he was going away forever. "What's the matter?" He asked and I shook my head. 

"Just tired." 

"Do you want me to stay that much? I can if you want me to." 

"No, go do what have to do and stuff. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you." 

"I'll text you later. I love you too." He kissed my forehead and then he left. 

* * * 

"Can you watch a movie with Scarlett? I need a shower." Daniel asked when I was making myself tea in the kitchen. 

"Sure, of course," he smiled weakly but stayed lingering in the kitchen, nibbling on his bottom lip. "What's up?" 

"I've just said my goodbye to her." 

"Really?" He nodded quickly but stared down at the floor, as if he was ashamed that they had finally found their closure. "I'm so proud of you, I know how hard it must've been." I hugged him for reassurance, squeezing my eyes shut to stop myself from beginning to cry. 

Even though I hadn't said my goodbye to her, she started talking about the more serious important things just a couple of days before. I was tucking her into bed for the night and I had a feeling she wanted to talk so I knelt down by the side of the bed and we just looked at each other, unsure of who should talk first.

"Dean?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Can I ask you s-something?" 

"What is it?" 

"Will you be angry if I g-give up? I'm too tired, I don't want to fight it a-anymore." 

"No, of course I won't be. I just want what's best for you." 

She was quiet for a minute but I knew she was thinking. After all this time, this must've just been the first time she was able to pluck up the courage to ask what was on her mind. 

"How will I get to heaven?" 

"I don't really know, but I think you'll go to sleep and wake up there."

"Where will y-you be?" 

"I'll just be here, on Earth." 

She thought again for a couple of moments, getting comfy in bed and staring at nothing in particular. 

"Will I s-still be s-sick when I'm in heaven?" 

"No, you'll be all better like you never had it. You won't get those headaches anymore." 

"Oh, that's good, they h-hurt a lot," she caught her breath before speaking again. "I'm s-scared." 

"You shouldn't worry, I've heard it's very nice up there. Remember Gran? She'll be waiting for you." 

"Will you be o-okay though?" 

"We'll be sad because we'll miss you, but yes, we will be fine."

"And, will w-we be together again?" 

"One day we will be, but in the meantime just remember that I love you. We all do." 

"Why won't you hate me?" 

"Why would I?" 

"Because I've g-given up and I'm going to leave and you'll be l-left behind." 

"But when you leave I know you'll be safe and you won't be in pain anymore. You'll be okay, and that's all that matters to me." 

She fiddled with the tiny teddy that she had been attached to since she took it into the first MRI scan she ever had and let everything I said process through into her damaged brain. 

"I'm sorry." She mumbled, slipping on the 's'.

"You don't need to be. There's nothing to be sorry for."

"So, it's okay for me t-to... die?"

"Yes, you can let go now." 

The conversation was weird and uncomfortable and unsettling but at the same time it was an eye opener because now I knew what she spent her time thinking about and it was inspiring and beautiful and I felt honoured that she shared all that with me.

Dan went upstairs and I finished making my hot drink and went in the lounge. Scarlett was curled up at one end of the sofa and I felt myself beginning to feel angry by what the cancer had done to her. 

She was half the weight she used to be a mere few months ago, her dwindling appetite and difficulty swallowing not allowing her to eat. Her hands and feet were bluish colour and her skin was cool to touch. Exhaustion showed through dark circles under eyes but no matter how much sleep she got, it was never enough. 

But even still, it was a good day for her - the disease wasn't attacking her too much and she looked peaceful, almost content. So much so that her chapped lips smiled when she saw me and she asked to look at the family photo album that was on the bookshelf. I got it down and put her on my lap then positioned the photo album in front of us. 

Before my mother came down with her own mental illness, she had a passion for photography. She was always taking photos, mainly on disposable cameras, and when they were developed she put the best ones in a huge photo album. When I was younger, I didn't really get why she took so many pictures. Why would you need reminding of something that only happened recently? But now I could understand the significance of the past and how photos captured a moment of those special days. 

The first couple of pages were of me when I was just born and soon enough my tuft of hair grew into a short layer as the timeline of photos showed the first two years of my life. Then came the photos of Daniel as a first born and photos of us growing up together for six years. 

Eventually the photos showed our sister being the next addition to the family and photos of me holding her when she was little. Pictures of birthday parties, relatives and friends and you could see the gradual changes in all of us as we grew older.

We were there for quite a while just reminiscing memories, after all, that's all Scarlett really had. I felt guilty because I had a future with Jack and so many more things to experience, but she had nothing to look to forward to and instead just had things to remember.

We got onto the stream of photos from our short holiday to the south coast town of Brighton. We went there two years ago when our mother was at the worst because, as she said, there was "nothing better than breathing in the sea air". It was mainly pictures of us and the stony beach as our background and we had been lucky with the weather that year so the sun hovered in the corner. 

"Do you remember this?" I asked Scarlett. "You loved that ride, you went on it about five times." I laughed and she nodded. 

"That was a good day." 

A few more pages, a lot more memories after she said the words "I'm tired", so I put the photo album aside and she curled up against me. Because we stopped talking we could hear her loud, laboured breaths.

"Do you want the blanket?" I asked when she shivered and draped it around her shoulders so ends met in the middle and covered her front after she nodded. 

"I'm going soon. I can feel it." 

I felt myself freeze and my heart drop, but I should've been expecting this. 

"We love you so much. It's all going to be okay."

"I know. Will you al-always have Jack?"

"Oh yeah, he can't get rid of me that easily." 

"That's good," after a few breaths she said: "don't f-forget about me." 

"That would be the last thing I'd ever do. I'll always remember you and all the times we've played together forever."

"What's g-going to h-happen to me?" 

"I don't know, I'm sorry. But what I do know is that you won't hurt anymore and you'll be safe." 

"I hope so," there was silence for a couple of moments. "I'm sorry about th-that one time I hit you with my doll." 

"It's fine, I forgive you," I chuckled. "You're going to be a beautiful angel." 

"Like the one in my r-room?" 

"Yeah, but you'll be even prettier. You'll even have your own wings! I'll be jealous." My vision blurred and I quickly wiped away the tears so Scarlett couldn't see me cry. She needed me to be strong, so I had to keep myself together. 

"Oh. That'll be cool." She fidgeted and moved into me more, sighing restlessly. 

"Are you in pain?" 

"Just a h-headache," she gasped, her fingers locking into her hair, pulling at the roots and her eyes squeezed shut. 

I hummed a tune I didn't know, rubbing her back and hoping it provided some comfort. Eventually, her white knuckles turned back to their normal colour as she loosened the grip and her cheeks flushed a shade of pink. 

"Better?" She nodded and her eyes closed. The weak rises and falls of her chest told me she was still alive though and I savoured every breath. "We'll miss you, but we love you so much. I'll be with you the whole time, I'm not going anywhere." 

She nodded in response but her fists clenched and she tensed. 

"I can't go. I'm not ready. I can't leave you behind." Scarlett said between sobs. 

"Shh, hey, breathe. I'm going to be okay, you'll be in a better place and I'll be happy about that. Think about yourself first, what do you want?" 

"I'm so tired."

"Remember what I said the other day? Don't keep holding on if it's time to let go." 

"Can you- can you s-sing to me?" 

"Of course I can," she got comfortable in my embrace again as I scanned my brain for a song. 

I felt drowsy and wanted to fall asleep with her, but she had given me her last request and so I stayed awake listening to her breaths slowing down and becoming less frequent, hearing her life slipping away, knowing the last page of her final chapter was being written. I sang to her and my voice layered on top of her noisy breathing so we didn’t notice it as much. The sound of her favourite song made her dry chapped lips taint a smile, but by the time it was over, only one of our hearts were beating.