#jormus

It begins with headaches.

Seamus doesn’t think much about it; after all, it’s nearly a given with his career choice – staring at a computer the entire day really isn’t healthy. Dan has to keep migraine pills in the office.

He really doesn’t think about it.

Much.

Because it’s really difficult not to pay any attention to it when it feels as if something’s trying to press his brain out through his skull. A searing pain will sometimes flare up, leaving him dizzy and with black spots covering his vision.

He doesn’t think about it.

Chalks it up to a weird sleeping schedule (it’s gotten better than when they were in the first house, and he thought nights with 7 hours a sleep was the best he’d get), lack of physical activity and too much work. It’s gotten so busy around here; between trying to take care of his own channel, The Hub-series, the hub in general and keeping up with the constant stream of new employers, he’s just so tired. He just wants to sleep.

A break.

A break would be good for him.

---

Waking up in the morning is horrible.

It’s waking up from pain, making it feel as if someone’s squashing his head underneath a large metal-block. It’s hearing Ash shuffling around, making the bed wobble slightly as well as rustle the sheets. It makes him wince from the pain occurring because of the too loud noise, it makes him dizzy, and he has to shut his eyes because he doesn’t want to see the black spots again.

Instead he sees stars because Meowgi’s just made something fall over and it hits the floor with a too loud bang; not at all masked by the carpet. Ash wakes up from the noise, gasps and sits up too quickly for Seamus to be able to follow her movement or understand what’s going on.

And then she gets out of bed, and Seamus never realized there was a harsh way you could get out of bed, but he now knows. She’s jabbering on about her new something-something that she bought at that one place and if Meowgi’s broken it, that cat’s in trouble, and Seamus just can’t follow her.

She’s up and moving out of the door, to go inspect the living room, and Seamus hoped it would bring along the quiet he longs for, but instead she just raises her voice to make sure he hears her complain and she probably wakes up Jimmy in the process.

It takes a while for him to remember that, no, Jimmy doesn’t live here anymore; he hasn’t in a long time now, but he doesn’t have the strength to worry about that as well.

Not that he worries.

There’s nothing to be worried about.

He just needs sleep and quiet, both of which he’s not getting right now.

He curls up and moves his arms up around his head as if to protect it, but it only puts a heavy pressure onto his temple, making him hiss in pain. He tries to move them again, but now it feels like his arms are made out of lead and he just can’t.

“Seamus, are you even listening to me?!”

And no, he’s not, and he’s surprised he even heard that over the now constant ringing and pounding in his head. He just wants her to shut up, shut up, shut up.

His wish must slip out of his mouth, because the next thing he hears is a sound that resembles a backpack being thrown onto something and being filled. Ash is slamming with the dresser’s doors, and Seamus can’t wrap his mind around what’s going on.

She says she’s going for a walk and then, after the front door slams hard enough to nearly make him black out, it’s blissfully silent. He tries to flip his pillow over, desperate for the colder surface to alleviate some of his pain.

He whites out before he manages to do it.

---

Ash’s ‘walk’ has lasted nearly two weeks when the vomiting begins.

Seamus feels okay that morning; better – the pounding reduced to a hammer mildly tapping against his skull instead of the pure agony he fell asleep to last night. But then it all comes back full blast and he stumbles back for a moment.

He realizes too late that the nausea isn’t just nausea and then he’s throwing up. It’s mostly bile; he couldn’t bring himself to eat anything yesterday, which could probably explain the headache he has now as well.

He needs to eat more, but the second the thought of food even crosses his mind, he’s throwing up again. And again. And again.

He whimpers and feels sorry for himself. He tries to drink some water, but it backfires and he sputters and coughs and then it’s coming back up again.

When it’s finally over, he sinks down onto the bathroom floor. He should probably get up; he hasn’t cleaned for a long while, but the tiles are cool against his head, and he doesn’t even realize he’s drifting off before he’s asleep.

---

He has as little contact to the outside world as he can get away with.

He dreads the calls from the other guys, because while he loves every single one of them, they’re all too loud for him right now, so he calls as little as he can get away with.

He wants radio-silence, but the others would show up at his front door, banging away on it to be let in, and they’ll come from a good place; them being concerned for him, but he won’t be able to hide it from them.

Except there’s nothing to hide because nothing’s wrong.

---

The break was supposed to help, but it’s nearly been a month and a half by now, and he only feels worse.

The break was supposed to help, but it doesn’t, so he calls Jordan and tells him he’ll be back the next day.

When thinking of how happy Jordan sounded about the news, it almost makes the pounding left behind is nearly worth it.

---

They received a huge packet in the P.O. box, and the entire crew is participating in the fan-mail section of The Hub.

There’s so much noise, and Seamus tries to be happy, because they’re actually getting these really awesome presents and he wants the fan to know he – as well as the rest of the boys – really appreciate them. It’s just…

The noise.

At least it’s laughter and nobody’s fighting. He’d been worried when he found out he needed to be around James and Aleks while in front of the camera, and while their ‘fights’ never mean anything, it usually ends up with a lot of noise from James yelling at Aleks, and then the others will participate and Seamus won’t be able to mask his pain.

Turns out he still can’t hide that something’s wrong, because they throw one of the smaller packages over to him for him to unwrap.

It’s not heavy. Or, it’s not supposed to be heavy, because he saw the guys throwing it around (after making sure it wasn’t fragile in any way).

But apparently, Seamus needs to go to the gym more often, because it feels like they just threw an elephant at him, and there’s no way his arms could ever hold it up.

He drops it.

It’s an accident; he wouldn’t do anything on purpose to make a fan feel bad about themselves, but it’s just too heavy for him.

He knows he needs to bend down and pick it up, but the others are laughing and joking about him missing the box, but instead of an infamously sarcastic comment from him, it only results in an increase in the noise level and therefore an increase of his headache.

Which is not good, because he is currently seriously considering if tearing his head open or scratching out his eyes would help in any possible way.

He knows he needs to bend down and pick it up, but he also knows if he bends down and picks it up, blood will flow to his head, and usually that’s what you’re supposed to do if you feel faint, but Seamus has an inkling it’ll probably result in the opposite, and then there’s no way he’s able to hide what’s going on, which is nothing.

He knows he needs to bend down and pick it up, he also knows if he does, he’ll faint, but he also knows the others won’t stop until he’s opened his package and they can finish this segment and go on to whatever the hell is next.

So, he sucks it up, and bends down to get it.

Blood rushes to his head, following it is nausea and dizziness and he is only conscious long enough to hope he won’t throw up over the carpet.

---

They get scared.

Of course they do; it sets a fright in you when you see one of your closest friends just fall to the ground without a sound.

And he tells them, “they’re just headaches”, because that’s what they are, but they don’t believe him.

“You’re not supposed to just faint like that, Seamus,” Jordan clearly wants to yell at him, but he’s thought far enough ahead to have figured out Seamus has a horrible headache as they speak, and has therefore lowered the volume a bit.

It’s not enough, but it’s something at least.

But he’s still distracted because of it, and the others notice it.

Or else they just notice the way his eyes are clouded and it seems as if he’s far away, and they worry, alright?

---

Jordan drags him to a doctor the next day.

It’s pointless of course, and Seamus makes sure everybody within a five mile radius knows of this, but it doesn’t stop Jordan from forcing him into a chair in the waiting room and then the chair in front of the doctor.

Seamus’ headache at this point has gotten so bad that he doesn’t break out in an ‘I-told-you-so’ dance or song or whatever when the doctor tells him there is nothing wrong; take a break and make sure to eat, drink and sleep loads.

Jordan suggests another break, but the last one didn’t help so why should this one?

Seamus declines, partly because of that, partly because of how he knows he won’t be able to handle being back in a now completely empty (expect for Meowgi) apartment full time again.

But Jordan seems to understand at least that reasoning (after an invasive questioning of Ash taking care of him, which turns into where Ash is) so he offers up his own space.

And Seamus hesitates, because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to hide the throwing up each morning, the blindingly painful headaches, the fainting and dizziness, the hypersensitivity towards sounds and lights, and so he declines.

But Jordan doesn’t stop, because by now he’s gathered no one’s around to take care of Seamus, and the man already looks like he’s been starving himself (therefore ensuring Jordan that he’s in no condition of taking care of himself), so he pushes.

And pushes.

And pushes.

He’s one step away from physically pushing Seamus into his home when the other accepts the offer.

---

If they were scared before, it’s nothing compared to how they are after Jordan experiences firsthand what Seamus has been dealing with for who knows how long by now.

They work as a team.

Jordan is his primary caretaker as he’s currently living with him, which probably would’ve been a great if experiences if not for the circumstances.

The throwing up doesn’t stop, but Jordan offers Seamus comfort by bringing him water and a toothbrush when he’s finished.

After that Jordan drives them to the office (they’ve all banned Seamus from driving anywhere, as they’ve all experienced the effect heavy traffic and honking vehicles have on you), and once there, everybody else steps in.

They make sure he eats, gets some fresh air, takes a break in the middle of the day.

They try not to let their worry overpower them whenever Seamus refuses to eat (never out of stubbornness, mostly out of nausea or just a lack of appetite), which is also the reason why everyone in the office is ready to bolt out and buy Seamus whatever food he wants if he even as much hints towards what he could possibly want.

Once back at Jordan’s, he’s fed once more, and he feels slightly sick at the feeling of so much food inside of him as well as from the knowledge of how he’ll end up throwing it all up in the morning.

They make sure he goes to bed at a reasonable time, until the cycle repeats.

And it goes alright, and Seamus hides it better than he expected he would be able to (not that there’s anything to hide, because they’re just headaches), but everything goes to shit one morning.

Seamus wakes up from Jordan knocking lightly on the door to the guest room, which he currently vacates.

He’s on his stomach, half of his face smushed into the pillow, the other half he should be able to see Jordan opening the door.

Except he can’t and that worries him, until he figures he just hasn’t opened his eyes yet, and maybe he’ll be able to fool Jordan into believing he’s still sleeping, so he’ll be able to tackle another day in which he’s forced to hide away the constant pain he’s feeling.

But then Jordan’s teasing him about sleeping with his eyes open, and that’s when he sits up (too quickly, mind you, but he only see black spots out of his left eye.

As an experiment, he covers his left eye.

His breathing quickens, because he knows, he fucking knows his eyes are both open now, but he can only see out of one of them.

Jordan apparently catches on quickly, and the next thing Seamus is aware of it them sitting in front of the doctor.

There are machines and tests and so many noises and Seamus feels like crying (he doesn’t realize he actually is and Jordan doesn’t know how to comfort him, because he’s freaking out himself while contemplating whether or not he should phone the others now or wait until they’ve finished the appointment)

And they’re just headaches until they’re not.

Because now it’s a fucking brain tumor, astrocytoma stage III (or anaplastic, as the doctor describes it at first) and Seamus doesn’t quite know what he’s supposed to do with that information.

And that’s all he can think of. That’s the only explanation he can give Jordan when he asks why he didn’t say something sooner, because now there’s not much time left to do anything.

They are just headaches.

---

His memory begins failing him around a month after he moved in with Jordan.

It’s quite simple first. Just the same as when he’d forgotten Jimmy had moved out the day Ash left.

He’d needed Aleks for a video, a new project he’d wanted to start, but when he opens the door to Aleks’ office, he’s met with bright yellow walls and Dex.

He just stands there for a while, trying to figure out why things are different.

Dex has to remind him.

Seamus plays along in a “Oh yeah, totally forgot about that, I’ll go see Aleks now,” way, which he can see leaves Dex doubtful and sad.

With that look, Seamus decides he’ll find Aleks on his own. Normally, he would ask Jordan for help, but he’s not blind (as of yet) – he knows the younger worries about him constantly. There’s no reason for him to worry about this as well.

So he slyly checks every office on the way (when did the office get so big? Oh yeah, the wall was removed, right) until he finds Aleks.

By the time he has found him, he’s forgotten what he needed to tell him, and he can’t concentrate on trying to remember while trying to resist the urge of scratching his eyes out to relieve some of the pain.

He leaves Aleks’ office after a bit of small-talk and returns to his own dark space.

So it begins with just forgetting small things – who is where, where did he leave his bottle of water, where does Jordan keep the linen, the plates, the TV-remote; smaller things.

Then it turns into words.

“Jordan, I need you to help me fix the… The um…”

He tries to gesture towards the thing Jordan’s sitting behind, the machine and the screen, and what’s the word again? He knows Jordan’s good at fixing whatever it is, that’s why he came to him for help.

He can see Jordan’s getting worried about this as well, but he just can’t remember the word, so he tries to just pull it off with an “Are you coming or not?”

He fools Jordan the first time (or maybe not quite, because after that Jordan asks him if it’s the computer he needs help with, and for a moment Seamus halters from the shock of the recognition of the word mixed with confusion as to why he couldn’t remember that), but then it turns into more words.

“Did you remember to, uh, you know, do the thing with the front door?”

“Lock it?”

“Yeah, that.”

Which turns into him forgetting words such as blanket, keys, plate, car, water.

Jordan catches on quicker than the rest of the guys (but then again, he does live with him, he’s constantly around him). He’s subtle about it – doesn’t really confront Seamus too much about it, which is greatly appreciated, because Seamus doesn’t quite know how he feels about it yet and he’s afraid he’ll lash out from anger if Jordan pushes too much.

Jordan makes a list for him. A list of Seamus’ most forgotten words. It’s stupid and Jordan’s drawn a cat’s face in the top right corner.

Seamus can feel his heartbeat picking up every time he looks at the list, partly because of a new feeling of endearment every time he looks at the cat, partly because of the panic he feels because the list just keeps on getting longer and longer.

It hurts when they need to put names on the list as well.

They call Eddie after the fourth time he’s forgotten Aron’s name.

He comes up, just for a visit. He doesn’t think he can stick around and watch his former best friend slowly die.

He’s quick to leave again though, because this time it’s not just the name Seamus forgets, it everything about him.

Seamus’ heart hurts but he can’t remember why.

Jordan gets him home so he doesn’t have to watch Eddie cry.

So he tries to watch the old streams and videos they have where they’re both there and interacting.

It’s the first time in years he’s been absolutely terrified, because he realizes he probably won’t remember any of the guys by the time he’s…

He bolts out of his room and searches the entire house for Jordan before he finds in the backyard.

Jordan’s startled by the loudest noise he’s heard in his house in a while, when the door is opened with enough force for it to hit the house with a loud bang.

Seamus winces from the harsh sound, but he’s mostly too busy nearly running towards Jordan.

He can see fright and worry begin to take over Jordan’s mind and it’s only intensified when Seamus cups his hands a place around Jordan’s neck and jaw, pulling him down so he can press his lips against his.

“I don’t want to forget you as well.”

---

Nobody would really think it, but they work together, they just fit. And Jordan feels like crying every single moment he spends with Seamus, because it’s not fair that they finally get this only for it to be ripped from them in too short of a time.

Neither realizes how short of a time it really is until Jordan one day finds Seamus on the floor in the shower, shaking, foaming from the mouth and blood dripping out from a cut in his head.

Jordan doesn’t know what to do, and while phoning and waiting for the ambulance he spends every second terrified they won’t know what to do either.

---

They operate when he gets to the hospital.

Jordan sits in the waiting room for hours.

He calls the rest of the guys, and one by one they turn up, each in distress, though how it’s expressed varies.

None of them want to leave, but they all notice how they’re taking up too much space (they’re quite a large group by now), and they notice the hostile looks the nurses are sending them.

It doesn’t do them any good really just sitting there, so Dan, James and Aleks stay with Jordan while the rest of them leave.

---

They’re given bad news.

And it wasn’t really like they expected a good outcome of this, not at all, but it still feels like a shock when the doctor tells them they removed as much of the tumor as possible, but Seamus will probably only be around for another couple months.

It feels wrong.

Seamus looks wrong in the hospital bed with hair missing from where they shaved it off for surgery. He looks too small. Too pale. Too still.

---

Jordan and Seamus end up stop going to the office.

After the hospital visit everything seemed to get worse; the headaches, the vomiting, the dizziness, the fainting, the memories.

Instead they stay at home. Jordan has paused his channel, Seamus has stopped his.

Jordan isn’t sure whether or not he is thankful for his romantic relationship with Seamus. It hasn’t got anything to do with pretending for Seamus’ sake, which Seamus was worried about when Jordan told him of his thoughts. Instead it has everything to do with how he’ll know what he’s missing when Seamus is gone, because he got to have it for even just a little bit.

They’ll usually lay on the couch, just to get out of bed for a little while and Seamus hasn’t got the energy to do anything more than that. Depending on the day and the pain, the TV will sometimes be on in the background, playing a movie. Jordan misses the time Seamus would’ve made fun of the lines and the characters.

Instead he kisses the blond’s temple and wishes for the pain to go away.

---

They excuse not going to the office as it being too loud and too bright; too many people running around, too much of anything really.

But that’s all it is; an excuse.

Nobody’s interested in calling it out though, because the real reason is that Seamus forgot who James was.

---

Jordan considers creating a system for Seamus so he can tell him what kind of day it is; how bad the pain is, perhaps a color-system, green for good, red for bad, yellow somewhere in between, but he throws the idea away, because at this point, Seamus is too far gone to really have any good days, and he’s too far gone to be able to differentiate between yellow and red days, and he’s too far gone to really understand as well as answer most of Jordan’s questions by now.

Besides, Jordan usually knows already from the first moment Seamus opens his eyes in the morning.

---

Everybody stop coming around when Seamus can’t seem to recall who any of them are.

Jordan spends every second terrified of when Seamus can’t remember him either.

---

And then it finally happens.

Seamus usually takes a while before he’s able to comprehend and respond to whatever Jordan’s asked – which usually is how he’s feeling today (“like shit”) – and Jordan really should’ve known he should be preparing himself for the inevitable, because Seamus eyes aren’t the usually pain-filled, lifeless eyes he has gotten used to; instead they’re fill with panic, and after about ten minutes Seamus manages to croak out a question which makes Jordan’s blood freeze.

“Who are you?”

And Jordan really doesn’t want to cry – at least not in front of Seamus. He probably won’t even understand why he’s made the other man cry, but Jordan doesn’t want to risk Seamus feeling bad about something that’s not his fault, damn it.

So he just says he’s here to bring him some food – his voice most definitely doesn’t crack and go missing by the end of the sentence – and then excuses himself, reminding Seamus he should keep on resting and that he’ll be back up in a minute.

When he reaches the kitchen, he takes a minute to just breathe.

He pulls out his phone and debates calling one of the other guys – they’ll know what he’s going through and they’ll be able to help. But he doesn’t, and ends up throwing his phone a little too hard, because the screen cracks a bit.

They would be able to help, but he feels it would be inconsiderate of him to call – he got to have Seamus for a lot longer than any of them did.

It’s selfish of him – so, so selfish, but he wishes he didn’t have to go back up there, because he really doesn’t know what to do now and he just wants to cry.

He considers wishing for a simpler time, but he knows the unfairness of the situation will bring him to his knees, so instead he focuses on what he knows how to do.

He knows he’ll need to get some food in Seamus, so he finds the yoghurt (Seamus has only been able to eat liquid-food for the past month or so), so he does that, and he gets one of the teaspoons he owns and he returns to their room.