Breathe. {Rydellington AU}

17

Ellington walked into the sterile hospital room with his mother trailing behind him.

He hoisted himself up onto the examination table, the paper that had been laying out smoothly crinkling under his weight.

Ellington swung his legs a little, a childish habit he had kept since the first doctor's appointment he could remember.

His mother watched him, and a small smile spread across her face.

"Mom, what if something's wrong with me?" He asked, voice shaking slightly.

Cheryl sighed, and stared down at her folded hands in her lap. She then looked back up to her worried son's face.

"Ellington, I'm sure there's nothing wrong. You're getting better every day."

The doctor walked into the room, cutting him off before he could respond to her.

"Dr. Banks-" Cheryl sat up in her seat, giving her full attention to the doctor.

"We have the test results back." He said, voice more monotone than usual.

Ellington held his breath.

His mother said it would be alright.

So it would be, right?

"Mr. Ratliff is positive for Cor Pulmonale."

"What's that?" He asked quietly.

"Because of your case of Cystic Fibrosis, you've developed this complication as well. Your heart has become enlarged because of your breathing problems." The doctor summarized.

His heart.

Now his heart was bad.

Because of his stupid lungs.

"There are little forms of treatment for his complication at the moment, especially with the disease he already has." The doctor continued.

"Mrs. Ratliff, may I have a word?" He asked Ellington's pale mother.

"Of course-" She nodded, and waved Ellington out the door.

He left in stony silence, then sat down in the activity room of the hospital.

A small, smiling girl approached him.

"Emily," He sighed happily at the 9-year-old.

The last she had saw her, her dark hair was cut to her shoulders.
Now she was completely bald.

"Your- your hair- it's gone-"

"The yucky medicine did that. Dr. Amy told me that." She shrugged off the subject. Emily's mother had already told him that she was battling Leukaemia, but...

She looked so frail already.

She was only nine.

"Elly-Belly are you okay?" She asked, a small frown tugging at her mouth.

"I'm scared." He told the little girl standing in front of him. Emily walked away and pulled a bright red wooden chair over to him, then sat down.

"Why are you scared Elly?" She asked.

She was so innocent. She still had those large, child-like eyes and baby face.

"I have trouble breathing," he tried to explain. "And its being a bad thing for my heart." He tried to explain it the best he could to her.

"Why is it bad for your heart?" She asked, tilting her head slightly.

"It made my heart bigger." He answered.

"Isn't that good?"

"This time, no, Emily, it's not. And I'm scared it's going to hurt me." He admitted to her.

Emily hugged him to the best of her ability with her tiny arm span. "I'm sorry, Elly. You'll get better." She promised him.

What if I don't? He thought in terror.

"Thank you, Emmy." He gave her the best smile he could manage. Emily beamed back at him and nodded.

"Emily, Doctor Amy wants to see you!" A female voice, most likely her mother, called.

"I have to go, Elly. Feel better for me, okay?"

"Okay. I will." He told her.

Looking satisfied, she nodded and skipped off. Ellington crept back over to the door of the exam room, where the doctor and his mother were still talking.

Ellington pressed his ear to the door.

"-I'm so very sorry, Mrs. Ratliff." Dr. Banks' muffled voice came through the thick wooden door just barely.

"How long does he have?" He heard her sob.

"From our estimates, three months."

His mom only cried harder.

And then it hit him.

He was going to die.

-----

*evil laughing*
*hysterical sobbing*
Please don't murder me, I'm sorry.
...
Well, not really.