A single industrial light, too bright and hot, buzzes over my head. It shimmers over the room and gleams off of shiny equipment. God, being here is like a trip back to the cold-and-flu-ridden days of childhood. The clinic, usually bustling as busy as an ant hill, is strangely subdued in this little clinic room. The cholesterol monitor stares balefully at me from its spot on the wall. Next to the monitor, a kitten hangs from a branch and begs me to "hang it there!" I've always loved those posters: motivation, for me at least, doesn't take verbose speeches.
My eyes fasten on the dirty floors, paced by so many doctors that it's turned into a Rorschach test. The grimy linoleum floors gleams in an obvious attempt to scrub the filth from it, but it only adds to the rhythmic pounding in my head. This goddamn headache has been beating in my cranium for weeks now. It's the worst right now, in the morning. Usually, breakfast makes a second appearance in the morning too, but it hadn't been as bad today. The combination of the bright lights and the floor isn't helping though. I wish someone would just come see me.
Right on cue, I can hear the clicking of podiatrist recommended shoes sounds down the hall and gets closer to me. The tacky mint industrial door is heaved open with a massive grunt, revealing a burly African American woman on the other side. A clipboard is clamped to her ample bosom and she smile toothily as soon as we make eye contact.
"Hiya babycakes! I'm Shona. Not feeling too good today, is we?" She drawls, her voice purely Alabaman in tone. Strangely enough, there aren't too many Alabamans in Minneapolis.
"Not good at all," I finally mumble to my shoes once I find my voice back. "Not good at all." She clucks her tongue sympathetically and snaps a pair of latex gloves on loudly.
"Well, baby, I'll get this stuff done as fast as I can so I can send Dr. Lawrence in, m'kay?" Vaguely, I nod as she captures my arm and snakes the Velcro around it to take my temperature. "Lawd, it's colder than a freezer in here! I always tell Dr. Lawrence that-" Shona continues to ramble, but my thoughts drift away. I really don't need all of this. Just a bottle of happy little pills and I'll be on my merry way. Just something to take the drum beat away.
"M'kay baby. I'm done with my work. Dr. Lawrence should be here in a minute," she says comfortingly, giving me another toothy smile. With that, the door slams again and I'm left with the lights, the floor, and gooseflesh that's beginning to form ridges on my skin.
It doesn't take long for the door to come swinging wide open again. "Hello there, Eleanor!"
Dr. Lawrence's voice grates against my eardrums, but I just plaster on a smile and shake his hand. "Hi, Dr. Lawrence. How are you today?"
"Just fantastic, young lady. You, on the other hand, must not be. What's going on?"
"Well, I've had a horrific headache for the past month now. It's a constant throbbing right around my temples. It's usually the worst in the morning and sometimes I have to deal with vomiting as well. It's even so bad that my vision will go hazy at some points," I conclude, pressing my forefinger to my temple. Dr. Lawrence stares at me quizzically as he runs a finger down the sheet of the clipboard.
"Interesting. A month you say?"
"Yes sir," I reply, twisting a lock of hair around my finger. "Like I said, they are worst in the morning, but they are still there by the afternoon."
"Do you have time, Ms. Weston?" Dr. Lawrence cuts in, surprising me with the formality. Confused, I cock an eyebrow and watch him grab at the phone on the wall.
"Yeah? I'm free all day. What's going on, doctor?"
"We just...need to do a CAT scan on you, Ms. Weston."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Appointments don't take this long. They don't involve lots of waiting and CAT scans. Why the hell is this going on?
"Dr. Lawrence, is this-"
"Ms. Weston, I need you to lay back please," Dr. Lawrence interrupts, pointing at the flat board at the mouth of the scan. "This will just take a few minutes."
Drugs! Just some drugs for my noggin are all I need! Why is he making me do this shit!?
The board moves back into the scanner with a hiss and a clink. Machinery flashes before my eyes and I have to close them again to fend off the stabbing headache. This is pointless.
"Okay, Ms. Weston, we are bringing you out now," Dr. Lawrence calls as the board slides back out. Better prepare my bitch face now so I can start complaining.
"Come with me," he says as soon as he's in the room. Shrugging, I follow him back to our original patient viewing room.
With a heavy sigh, Dr. Lawrence drops into his swivel chair. In the walk back, he looks like he's aged twenty years. Giving me another sigh, he folds his hands and pins me with look.
"Ms. Weston-"
"Eleanor."
"I'd prefer to call you Ms. Weston, given the circumstances now."
What. The circumstances? A thrumming to match the one in my head begins in my stomach, a ball of dread that rolls through me and coats me in fear.
"Ms. Weston, I'm not going to sugarcoat this. When you described your symptoms to me, I had a hunch. So we took you to the CAT scan to see if my hunch was correct. It, it was, but it's not a hunch I'm proud to claim. Eleanor, we found a tumour in your brain. We'll have to run a few more tests, but you have terminal brain cancer. I'm so sorry."
A dull ringing buzzes in my eardrums, drowning out the rest of Dr. Lawrence's words. Fuzzy darkness creeps in the corners of my eyes and I have to lay down to keep from passing down. The hanging cat stares at me again but this time I can't "hang in there."
"Can you call my Mom and Dad?" I whisper, the tears clogging up my throat.
---------------------------------------------
Hello!
New fanfic starting today! I know that I've already done a cancer/Benedict Cumberbatch one, but I love exploring the idea of grief defining a character. Cancer is a good way to put it, especially terminal cancer like Ella's. Sorry there's no Benedict in this chapter. There probably won't be in the next, but there will be in the third. I just have to set up characters first.
Thank you for the reads on Rebuilt! Every time I check, the total reads goes up! You all are fabulous human beings and I love you dearly.
Cast-
Michelle Dockery as Ella Weston
Benedict Cumberbatch as himself
Steven Moffat as Dr. Lawrence
Thanks for reading! I'd love it if you comment, vote, and follow! Thanks again!
-Stella
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Stand Up (Benedict Cumberbatch fanfic)
FanfictionThey diagnosed me with cancer. The big, bad disease that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. And it was terminal. I went from having my whole life open to me to a rapidly shrinking window. So I left. I ran to London. I met him there. Benedict Cumberb...
