Chapter Text
Present Day
"And this one?"
"Yellow," The boy replied, looking at the small card that Dr. Davidson was holding up in front of his face. Although he was struggling slightly, he could still see the colours. They were slightly faded but he could still tell the difference by a long shot. His hand was covering his bad eye, so he was at an advantage. It didn't bother him though as he'd done this a million times before.
"Good," Dr. Davidson replied, picking up another card. "Last one" she held the card up toward him and he didn't even hesitate.
"Green"
She smiled, placing the cards down on the desk in front of them and resuming the ticking of her clipboard, scribbling down some notes that he couldn't read. "Any struggles identifying the colours?"
He shook his head, "Same as usual. Still slightly faded but distinctive"
She nodded, "Does your left eye still hurt?"
He then nodded, "The strain to see is really bad"
She nodded again, "The same. Right, other eye"
He removed the hand from his bad eye and placed it over his good eye, letting the darkness seep in. The vision was almost completely gone, in its place was a warp of different colours that blended into one. No matter how much he looked around, he saw nothing but a blend of colours.
Dr. Davidson held up the first card. He knew it was the red one as she always used the same order but his eye was telling him something different.
"I don't know" He replied defeatedly. He got bored easily during this part of the exercise as the colours were all the same. She knew that, but she still had to do routine check ups as the tumour was growing and his eye was getting worse. It depressed him, knowing he'd probably be blind in time for his sixteenth birthday.
"As predicted" she went back to her clipboard and he sighed.
This is pointless, he thought.
"Why do I have to do this all the time? It's not like the vision is going to come back so why do you have to keep checking whether I can see or not?"
He took his hand away from his eye and blinked as Dr. Davidson turned toward him, placing the clipboard on her lap.
"Connor," she began. "You know I have to check up on you. I have to monitor what your eye is doing and how quickly the cancer is eating away at it, you know that"
Connor was rushed to the doctors on his fourteenth birthday as he couldn't see something that was right in front of him. It was a small box - a birthday present - that he completely kept missing whilst trying to pick it up. (That's what he was told, anyway) His Dad didn't think there was anything wrong as it was just an accident that Connor kept missing the box but his Mom was entirely convinced that there was something deathly "invading" his body.
At first, it was just red-green colourblindness but that soon got worse. A few scans later, they told Connor it's ocular melanoma. In shorter terms, cancer. The cancer didn't spread to any other parts of his body, and for that he was grateful. He had regular check ups and scans and his eye still stayed the same. It wasn't until Connor started blacking out slightly and losing some of his vision that they actually did something about it.
That's when he was admitted to the hospital permanently, making a temporary home there. Not really temporary as it's been a year. They wanted to keep him there so he could be monitored to see if the cancer miraculously starts to spread or if it gets bigger. The bigger the tumour the more chance that an enucleation will be on the cards. In other words, they will take out Connor's eye and he will be half blind. So far, taking out his eye is becoming more and more logical.
He shrugged, "Yeah I get that, but do we have to do it so often? If there's a change in my eye I'll tell you or my parents"
Dr. Davidson sighed, "Connor I know this can be hard for you. Dealing with slightly less vision than everyone else can be tough on people as you're restricted"
Connor shook his head, "I'm not restricted on anything" He answered. "And it's not hard for me. I'm dealing perfectly fine"
He wasn't exactly okay, and he was restricted from everything. He couldn't watch TV because he couldn't see it. He couldn't read a book as half the words were blacked out. He couldn't do anything outside of the hospital without a stick in case he started bumping into people. And to top it all off, last week they had given him an eye patch.
The eye patch just made it official. On the outside, his eye doesn't look that bad it was just a little swollen and so nobody asked about it. But now, with an eye patch, everyone will ask about it. That's exactly what Connor didn't want. He regularly wondered by they couldn't just give him sunglasses.
"Are you going home today?" Dr. Davidson asked smiling a little, "Isn't it someone's birthday?"
Connor nodded. It was his birthday. Fifteen. Fifteen and in hospital. He discharged for a while to go home and see his family and open presents whilst he was sat next to his Dad who told him what they were. Also an opportunity to get more clothes and move more of his stuff here. His parents had been forced to spend time together, boxing some of his stuff up ready for the transfer.
"Your Dad's waiting in the lobby"
Great. Just what I want right now, he thought.
He pushed himself off his bed and grabbed the eye patch off the bedside table. Standing in front of the small mirror in his room, he adjusted it over his eye, making sure that most of the minor swelling was covered. Then, he grabbed his cane and walked toward the exit.
Many teenagers, like Connor, roamed the halls of his ward as they all seemed to make friends. Connor never made friends with any of them as he didn't think he'd be staying long but he was wrong. Eventually, he got tired of being alone in the dining hall and managed to befriend a girl with Hepatitis C named Taylor and a guy with Prostate Cancer named Andy.
The two of them always seemed to sit together in the dining hall and so Connor thought they might be willing to take him into their friendship group. And he was right. All though she was ill, she was bold. And Andy was only a little bit quieter. The two of them made good friends and Connor seemed to blend well with them.
As Connor walked down the corridor toward the dining hall, he passed nurses, people in wheel chairs, screaming children and possibly every kind of germ he could. He could already see Taylor waiting in the dining hall with a box in her hand, surrounded by a bunch of other kids who Connor has seen around before.
When she finally spotted him she pushes herself out of the chair and slowly headed toward him with a weak grin on her face. Connor can't help but smile at her enthusiastic attempt to greet him and she wrapped her arms around him once they meet.
"Happy birthday!" She chimed, pulling out of the hug and holding the box out toward Connor. "It's a box of chocolate biscuits" she said as she could see Connor was struggling. The sound of them literally made Connor's mouth water.
"No way, how did you get these?" He asked, looking up at Taylor.
"My Mom bought them on visiting day," she said, smiling a little. "Andy says happy birthday but unfortunately he has a scan so he can't be here"
Connor nodded, remembering Andy mentioning a scan a few days ago. "Well, thank you. But I have to go because my Dad's waiting in the lobby"
Taylor nodded, "Right. Have fun at home"
He rolled his eyes, "You know I will"
As Connor turned away he smiled gratefully as Taylor didn't mention the eye patch. He definitely knew she saw it as she observed if as he looked at the biscuits. That was one of the reasons he really liked Taylor - she never made a big deal over anything. Like yeah, they're in a hospital and big things happen everyday but she never points them out.
The other day Taylor had warned Connor about the fact Andy had gotten crutches and that they shouldn't point it out in case he felt bad. There in that moment he had realised she was absolutely right. Connor just knew that once he walked into the lobby, every aspect of Taylor's kindness would be gone and his Dad wouldn't shut up about the eye patch all the way home.
***
His Dad helped him out the car after countless times Connor had told him he was okay. Because he was, he didn't need help getting out the car - he had a cane.
They'd gone to his Mom's house because the interior was better for a birthday celebration. Connor's Dad's wasn't exactly the neatest or warm house so Connor was glad for the decision.
He had prepared himself for the worst but his grandparents, aunt and uncle and two cousins along with his Mom were the only ones to yell "surprise!" upon his arrival.
"Happy birthday my sweet," His Mom placed a big kiss upon his forehead before taking his arm and helping him into the house.
"I'm okay, Mom" Connor said, "Thanks" he then used his cane to navigate himself to the sofa. He was then bombarded by the swarm of his family, gifts being placed on his lap and cards by his feet.
"Right," Adam walked through the people toward the sofa next to Connor and sat himself down. "Let's get opening"
Connor handed him the first card, sighing a little as he couldn't actually see where his Dad was. He heard the envelope being ripped and his Dad adjust his glasses on his nose.
"Dear Connor, Happy Birthday, may your day be filled with lots of fun, love Aunt Vicky, Uncle Sam and Selene"
Connor then smiled, aiming it toward his Aunt as he sifted through the presents.
"The one with the blue paper, Adam help him" His Aunt leaned forward on the sofa, tapping Adam on the knee.
He instantly stuck his hands in, grabbing the blue present at the same time as Connor did. "It's okay Dad I got it, Connor said, turning toward him whilst his grip tightened on the present.
"Are you sure? Because I can help-"
"Dad," Connor snapped, "I said I'm fine"
Adam gave him a pointed look but Connor couldn't see it as he turned away from him. He began ripping at the paper, throwing the excess parts onto the floor. "I can still see you know, I have one working eye"
Adam sighed, "I never said that Connor, all right?"
"No, Dad but you definitely meant it. You treat me like I'm five and I can't open a damn birthday gift. I may be blind in one eye but the other one works fine so leave me alone"
"Connor!" His Mom scalded, walking over toward where he and Adam were sat. Connor just sighed, pulling the eye patch off his face and placing it on the table in front of him. It didn't make things any better he knew that but he just felt they were all staring at it. "Come on sweetie, don't ruin your special day"
"Fine," Connor said as he continued to open the present. He vaguely saw a mush of colours, not sure on what the actual gift was. At that moment he didn't care.
"Hey that's nice," His Mom took the object off his lap.
"What is it?" Connor asked, feeling so distressed that he couldn't see what it was. No matter how many times he'd been given things that he couldn't see, he still felt the same panic and rise in his heartbeat every time.
"A backpack," She held it up in front of Connor and he squinted to see if that made it any better. He vaguely made the outline but he couldn't see the patterns. Covering his left eye he could identify it was blue and red. He then smiled, looking toward his Aunt and Uncle sat on the sofa next to him.
"Thank you," he said. "I love it"
This process went on for another fifteen minutes and Connor was gradually getting more and more angry with his parents who continually treated him like a baby. He also got tired after all the straining on his good eye so his Dad drove him back to the hospital after cake, with a fresh bag of clothes in the backseat.
Connor signed into the hospital easily, waiting for his Dad to place his hand in the right place where he wrote his name messily. Everyone knew it was him because the slanted writing took up two lines.
He didn't see Taylor or Andy upon his return but he bid his Dad goodbye at the doorway and happily walked off down the corridor to his room. He counted the doors on the way, getting all the way to room 26 and fiddling around for the door knob.
Once he opened the door, he was greeted by several doctors who had invaded his room whilst he had been gone.
"Evening Connor," the familiar voice belonged to Dr. McDonald and Connor just looked at him. He pushed through the swarm of doctors to get to his bed. He placed the cane down, sitting on his own bed and taking a deep breath. He looked over toward the usually empty bed on the other side of the room.
As doctors headed in and out the room, the bed became visible and Connor saw who was lay inside. A brunette boy with a large purple bruise on his forehead. There was a gash on his cheek which someone was cleaning.
Connor then lost sight of the boy. The coma boy.