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Seventeen

Scott's P.O.V
Mitch's coughing didn't get any better, and he didn't seem about to walk, so I walked over to his side of the bed and picked him up, holding his small body to my chest.

I was tired, and wanted nothing more than to sleep, but Mitch needed me more than I needed Sleep.

I didn't bother to change him out of his Pajamas and took him out to the car. I set him down in the back seat, letting him lay out. His coughing had stopped, but I wasn't going to risk it.

"I'm fine." He wheezed from the back.

"And you're also a liar." I shot back as I pulled out of our drive way.

He remained silent the whole way to the hospital, and my worry grew.

The wait in the hospital didn't ease the bind on my heart.

He sat, curled against my side, coughing again, harder.

I held him close, watching the other men and women and children in the ER. People rushed around. Parents hugged their children, spouses held each other, and I was one of these.

"Grassi-Hoying?" A kind, young nurse said from the doorway of one of the hallways and I helped Mitch to his feet and then we walked to the nurse. I saw the look of disgust on her face as she turned to lead us away. I pulled Mitch closer to me.

Our walk was silent through the hectic hallways. Sometimes, Mitch was able to breath and walk just fine, others, he was coughing so hard I feared he would fall.

We made it to the room and I set Mitch on the bed, then pulled a chair over to the bed and took his hand in mine. I stroked his knuckled, then kissed them.

"Do you want me to call Maddie?" I asked him quietly.

"It's nothing. Don't worry her." He answered straight away. He must have expected this question.

A man came in before I could reply to Mitch and introduced himself as Dr. Wissel. He was an older man, with crow's feet and laugh line, and short, salt and pepper hair.

"What is wrong?" He inquired, a clipboard in hand.

Mitch pulled his arm out of my grip and showed the marks, baring his arm. Dr. Wissel reached a hand out, asking permission, before taking his wrist in his hand and examining it.

"He is also coughing up blood." I told Dr. Wissel as he let Mitch's hand go and I reclaimed it in mine.

He nodded then looked at Mitch, pen against the paper. "Sir, do you have HIV/AIDS? I know it's a personal question, but I need to know."

Mitch nodded slightly. "Yeah. But I take my medication." His voice was scratchy and weak, his breath had a little wheeze.

"Uh-huh." The Doctor said quietly as he scribbled on the bored. "I'm going to check your lungs, so will you sit up please?"

Mitch struggled up and I got to my feet, watching him closely, blue eyes narrowed.

Dr. Wissel pressed the stethoscope to Mitch's torso and lead him through the breathing exercises, before placing the cold metal on his back, both times having him lift his shirt.

Nodding more, Mitch was instructed to follow him. He stood up and smiled weakly at me, then went after the doctor. I went to follow, but I was told to stay where I was.

Sighing, I sat back down and laid my head on the bed, pulling the blanket into a ball. I used it as a pillow and closed my eyes.

Instantly, I had drifted off. I wasn't sure how long I was put, but Mitch was shaking me awake was felt like only moments later.

"Scottney? Wake up honey." He said softly and pressed his lips to my temple.

I blinked open my eyes, unsure of where I was for a moment. Then I remembered and sat bolt upright, rubbing my eyes before looking up at Mitch.

"Are you okay? What's wrong?" O asked him as he held his left upper arm.

"I'll tell you in the car. And they did a Biopsy and a few other tests. We'll know the results in a few days." He told me as I stood up and wrapped him in a hug. "Let's go home and get you to bed. You're exhausted."

We climbed into the car,

A few days turned into a week and a half. Maddie still had no idea about our trip to the hospital. The day the results returned, I was standing in the kitchen.

"Dad? Papa and you have some mail." Maddie called to me as she opened the front door. My favorite time of day, when she came back home from school.

"Really? Huh. I'm in the kitchen. Would you just set it on the counter? Your father may like to see it as well." I said as she walked passed the entryway.

I heard her agree quietly, then the sounds of things being placed on the table.

All day, I kept seeing that manilla envelope sitting there, mocking me as I cleaned up the house a little bit, then stood beside Maddie as she did her homework.

Mitch was out working, though the job was poor. Neither Mitch not I have told Carson or Maddie about what had happened to Mitch. That he had a lower education than both of them.

He was just barely starting his senior year. He never graduated.

That, they also didn't know. Maybe we should have told them. But those were memories that were best left buried. Both of us had wholeheartedly agreed on that.

Finally, about a quarter to 9, Mitch came home, looking so utterly exhausted and rumpled, his hair a mess. But all of that seemed to matter little to him when he saw me home.

"Scottland!" I hugged him close, as he greeted me happily. I noticed how he kept his sleeves down over his hands.

"What is it?" He asked, his voice showing just how tired he was, but that he had seen my face. He stepped away and looked up at me. "Scott Richard Grassi-Hoying, what on earth is wrong?"

"It came." Was all I had to say before his mouth dropped open.

"Where is it?" He asked quietly.

"Papa? Dad? What's going on?" Maddie asked from behind us and Mitch turned, looking at her.

"I will tell you in a minutes. Now, where is it?" Mitch looked at me again and I noiselessly pointed at the table.

He grabbed it in his hand, opening it as he went into the kitchen.

Moments later, three was the sound of shattered glass and I rushed forward to see Mitch staring at the paper, left hand held in such a way it looked as though he had been holding something. That must have been what fell.

"What is it?" I asked, but I already knew.

His voice cracked with a sob as he answered me, showing me the paper.

"It's Kaposi's Sarcoma. I have Cancer."

~°~
How would y'all like a chapter from Maddie's P.O.V? And I will tell you all now, no more Mitchie P.O.Vs. I sorry.

Oh, and stay sexy
-Scomiche❤💛💚💙💜