IN THE HEIGHTS

11

(A/N this is based on a little girl that was mentioned in the Children in Need programme this year. Her name was Vanessa and she loved to sing)
Warning, possible triggers : cancer, death.

839 days. That's how many nights she'd spent in the hospital.

"I'm restarting chemo tomorrow." Her voice was fragile.

He only nodded into her shoulder, unable to speak.

"Usnavi," she pulled away from his embrace and looked at him. "There's one more treatment. There's chemo, then there's this new thing, some programme, trial they're running... if I don't-" He squeezed his eyes shut and she hesitated before continuing. She needed to say it out loud.

"I can't- I might not- Usnavi..."

"Stop. Don't say it, you're not gonna die, you're not- you-"

"I'll lose my hair again. All these locks I grew back in the last couple years, gone. I'm getting it shaved before chemo, I hate the way it falls out." She forced the words out, shoving them out of her mouth.

"Please-"

"Usnavi, I need to say this out loud." She cut him off.

"The doctors don't think I'll make my 17th birthday."

Her birthday. Next month. That soon?

"You're strong, you can fight it, you can always fight it. You always fight."

"I can't fight something that's spreading so quickly. I can't- the treatment is brand new, I'm in the first few dozen to even try it."

"You have to fight! All these things you should have, you, us, you should be able to get a job, a house, have kids!"

"You know I've never wanted kids." She cut him off to share a chuckle with him.

"You can't- I need you."

She shook her head. "You'll have to manage without little old me." Her smile was strained.

"Nina- I need you. Abuela needs you, Benny needs you, Nessa needs you, You can't just- you have to fight!"

"And I will. But if this kills me, promise me you'll make sure they fix it. They'll make sure to make things better."

He didn't need to ask her what she meant. They'd grown up together, practically siblings, inseparable. He knew her. He knew what she'd want.

And that's how 18 year old Usnavi finds himself in a hospital, in a children's ward, with a little girl.

"What do you like to do?"

"I like singing..." She said quietly, fiddling with the hem of her hospital gown.

"Do you? What's your favourite?"

"I like to sing to On My Own and Mamma Mia." Usnavi smiled at her, reminded of his old friend.

He couldn't fix things. He couldn't fix the treatment or it's outcome. But maybe he could fix things for these kids, make things a little easier. Help to piece together the broken things in the world. Help to make things better.