Boring days blended together. Staring at the plain white color of his ceiling and four walls, Jiyong felt a bit like a trapped rat. Time seemed to move so painfully slow, and yet it soared by. He felt like his life had been wasted. He didn’t get the chance to enjoy his youth the way his peers did. He’d spent four years of his life being mostly too sick to function, or barely floating through events that helped him pretend he had somewhat of a life. He endured extended family members asking him banal questions like “how is school?” and “do you have a girlfriend?” and he lied so easily to spare them the sad details of his cancer-ruined life that even the lying had become boring. After all, it seemed a little difficult to explain to aunts and grandmothers that he was too sick to attend school and that he barely even knew any girls as friends let alone girlfriends, nor did he have any interest in dating any of them. Even though his entire family was well aware that he’d been battling cancer for the past four years, it seemed like most of them thought of cancer as some sort of afterthought: Jiyong, nineteen, student, ladies’ desire, oh and also cancer. It wasn’t like any of them saw him enough to think any different.

                If they saw him, they’d know how silly those questions were.

                If they saw him, they’d probably stay as far away as Dami did. Jiyong didn’t blame her. She was four years older than him, and was already old enough to be on her own when he was diagnosed. She’d been attending college, and for the first two years, she would come home during breaks and summers or sometimes on weekends. Those early days were the worst. Home had become sickbay and their parents were drained and emotional and Jiyong was frail and looked like death. Dami loved him. He didn’t ever think for a moment that she didn’t. But he could see in her eyes that being at home depressed her; seeing him in such pain depressed her. She started to come home less and less, and soon, she stopped coming home at all. She moved into an apartment near her college and got a job and a boyfriend and suddenly she wasn’t really a part of their lives anymore; well, a part of Team Cancer.

                It was the beginning of another boring day and Jiyong lay in bed attached to the loud CPAP machine that he’d nicknamed Megatron (because it sounded a bit like a Decepticon). He was allowed to take the machine off just after waking up to brush his teeth, bathe, and eat breakfast, so long as he used the portable oxygen tank instead, but he was bored and maybe a little depressed about this new change, so he decided instead to just lay there. The ceiling was entertaining enough. It was white (maybe off-white) but there were a few dark spots where his dad had smashed spiders for him, and there was a post card taped to the ceiling with an affirmation written on it; in Spanish, left over from his high school days. He’d written it when he first got sick. He was still in school, and had Spanish class. He used to write himself notes in Spanish all the time, so he’d have an excuse to use the language and maybe pass the class. He got a C, anyway. The memory made him smile a bit but it also made him a little sad. He missed school; of all the things to miss. Maybe he just missed having a real life.

                It was 9 AM, and he knew his mother would be in to check on him soon, so he propped himself up, looking at the machine in distain. He wished he could just turn it off and forget about using it, but he knew that his mother would never let him. The oxygen tank was propped neatly beside the bed in a sleek black case that he could sling over his shoulder like a backpack. He scooted to the edge of the bed, and fished the thing off of the floor, fixing his cannula so that he could just stick them in his nose when he took off his CPAP mask; no time for his lungs to decide to be s. Someone knocked on his bedroom door just as he was preparing to undo his straps to remove the mask; Jiyong rolled his eyes.

                “I’m fine, Mom,” he called to her, reaching behind his head to unstrap the Velcro that held the Darth Vader mask to his face. He didn’t like being helped when he didn’t need help. Besides, he was a grown up. He could bathe himself and brush his teeth without his mother’s help or reminder. The door opened, anyway. “Omma!”

                “Jiyongie,” he looked up, surprised to hear that voice. It wasn’t his mom, at all. It was his older sister. He’d spoken to her a while ago, just before he went into the hospital again the last time, but she had been in Los Angeles, where she lived and where she’d been going to school. He didn’t expect her to actually come home; she rarely did.

                “Noona!” he exclaimed, startled to see her in his doorway. She smiled, although he could see in her eyes that she was surprised to see him attached to this machine. “It’s not as bad as it looks, I promise.”

                “Sweetie,” she sighed, and she approached the bed cautiously, as if she wasn’t sure how to handle the situation. She never did seem to understand how to handle it when he was bed ridden. She was timid, as if she was afraid to hurt him or mess something up. It had been almost a year since she’d last seen him in person; he didn’t really expect her to be any less timid than before. He patted the bed for her to sit down, and she did. “You look better.”

                “I guess. Thanks,” he smiled behind his Vader mask. Dami smiled, too. “I’m about to take this thing off.”

                “Oh. Should I help you?” she offered, but he waved her off. “That’s right. You don’t like being helped.”

                “Well… that’s true, but I really got this,” he unstrapped the top strap, and then took off the second one, carefully taking the mask off. “If you really want to help, you can clean the mask for me,” he smiled innocently as he placed the cannula in his nose, draping the tubes over his ears. She smiled a little, but she looked sad.

                “When did they put you on oxygen?”

                “Just recently. It , I’m a prisoner,” he complained, turning off the CPAP. “When did you get here? You just kinda snuck in,” he was truly curious, but he also just wanted to change the subject. It was sad. It was depressing. He didn’t want to dwell on it.

                “This morning. I … heard you were, um…” she stopped herself, as if she didn’t want to bring up a subject that might be sensitive for Jiyong. “Anyway, I wanted to come sooner, but I just got time off work.”

               “You couldn’t get time off to see your dying brother? I was literally almost a corpse. Your only brother could’ve died. They should’ve let you off for that,” he responded playfully. He meant for it to be sarcastic but it only seemed to upset Dami. She made a face that was in between a smile and a wince, and then she looked away, her thin fingers pushing through her long black hair. “I was just kidding.”

                “I know… I know, sweetie,” she nodded, smiling softly.

                “… anyway, I’m alright. I just gotta be on this machine for a while. They think that if I stay on this thing and they can successfully shrink my tumors, I won’t even have to get surgery,” he told her cheerily. He wasn’t really that confident in the treatment, but he didn’t want to scare Dami any more than she had already been.

                “Really?... That’s good. So, what happens then? Are we all clear?” she asked. She didn’t seem very hopeful, either. After all, it had been a long four years for all of them.

                “Um… I don’t think there’s really an ‘all clear’ for me. But, I guess it’s a start,” he bit his lip and he moved closer to his sister, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder. “I missed you… you should come home more often.”

                “I know. I haven’t been a good noona, have I? I missed you, too, brat,” she smiled, chuckling lightly. “I brought you some stuff.”

                “Stuff? What kind of stuff?” Jiyong’s eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. People gave him stuff all the time. All cancer kids got free stuff. It was different when it was from Dami. She always brought him things that she knew he’d really love. She was cool that way.

                “It’s in my bag, but… remember how you wanted that Captain America graphic novel?”

                “The… Trial of Captain America?” Jiyong gasped. Dami nodded, smiling.

                “I found it at a comic book store. It was super reasonable, too. Anyway, I brought you that one, and some Batman ones and an X-Men one. I wasn’t sure which ones you wanted, so I just bought a few,” she replied, his arm sweetly. “Aaaannnd, I brought you a box of the most delicious cookies of all time from my most favorite bakery in the whole world.”

                “You really went into a comic book store?” he laughed happily, draping his legs over the side of the bed and clinging to his sister as if he was afraid she would disappear if he let go.

                “I did. The things I do for you,” she sighed, shaking her head. “Anyway, I really hope you can stomach the cookies. I didn’t know if you… well, are you eating alright?”

                “I can stomach them. I’m eating fine, recently,” he grinned, “I can’t believe you actually went in. What was it like? Did you get contaminated by nerd-ness?”

                “Yeah, I did. I don’t know if I’ll recover,” she sighed woefully. “Come on, I’ll show you all the things.”

                “But I have to bathe and brush my teeth. I’m only supposed to be off of the machine for 30 minutes to an hour at most,” he replied dryly, annoyed by his room-bound condition.

                “Oh… aww, baby, I’m so sad. Why does it seem like it’s never really any better?” Her hand his cheek, and she looked away again. “I’m sorry. I’m not trying to make it about me…”

                “Blah blah blah. It’s okay. I swear, I say worse things every day. Believe me, there’s nothing you can say about it that will depress me… besides, you’re right. It’s never really any better,” he sighed, finally releasing his sister. “You could be a nice noona and bring me my treasure, insead.”

                “Treasure, huh?” she laughed. “Okay, I’ll bring it to your room…” she eyed him for a moment, then she kissed his cheek. “Whennnn… you finish brushing your teeth and stuff, I really want to talk to you about something.” Jiyong felt suspicious as soon as he heard those words. He stared at her for a moment, his brown eyes squinting in an effort to … read her mind, or something.

                “I fear that this is a subject I will not enjoy talking about,” he replied suspiciously.

                “It’s a good thing. But you may be right,” she smiled in an effort to disarm him.

                “My brother senses are tingling and I don’t like it,” he complained.

                “Oh, Ji,”

                “What is it? Now you have to tell me. You shouldn’t have brought it up if you weren’t going to tell me right away,” he implored her. She shook her head.

                “No, you only have about an hour off of your machine. Go do your hygiene stuff, first,”

                “Just tell me,”

                “Jiyong. Go,”

                “See, why is it going to take more than an hour to discuss? Is it something bad?” he studied her for a moment. “It’s something bad.”

                “Alright! I’ll tell you, but you have to go and brush your teeth right afterwards, so that you can get back on your machine. Agreed?” she offered. Jiyong shrugged.

                “Depends on what it is. If I feel that it needs more discussion, I’ll just turn Megatron back on and brush my teeth and take a bath later,” he decided, which seemed to disappoint Dami who seemed to want to dance around the subject as much as possible. She sighed a little, and then she scratched her head, her eyes focusing on nothing as she gathered her thoughts.

                “Should you just hook back up to your machine, first, then?” she asked, deciding that the subject was probably not something that Jiyong would be able to let go after a few moments. He studied her cautiously, and moved slowly towards his machine, taking out his cannula and holding the mask to his face.

                “It’s really serious, isn’t it?... Do you have cancer, now, too?” he asked, turning the machine back on before strapping the mask into place. The whirr of the machine filled the silence and Dami shook her head.

                “No. Nothing like that. I said that it’s good, remember?” she gave him a smile. “I just… I don’t know if you’re going to be happy about it… since it’s so sudden, and everything.”

                “Oh… ,” he frowned. He could feel his heart rate increase and suddenly he felt extremely nervous. If he wouldn’t like it, it couldn’t have been as good as Dami was claiming it was.

                “I feel so guilty… making you put that thing back on,” she sighed, still beating around the bush a little; too much for Jiyong’s taste. “Well, I guess I should just say it. I’m pregnant.”

                “… Are you serious?” She nodded. “Wha-… how’d that happen?”

                “Ji. I’m sure you know how that happens,”

                “Ew,” he frowned, “Why’d you get pregnant? You can’t! Dami-“

                “I didn’t mean to… it just sort of happened. But it’s okay, because Justin and I decided to get married,” she looked at him, her eyes asking him for acceptance. It reminded Jiyong of his own eyes just a few days before, when he’d told his mother about Seunghyun. “You’re the first person in my family that I told. I haven’t told Omma and Appa yet,”

                “They’re going to freak,” he winced, immediately apologetic. “That’s not true… they might not freak, but Dami, this is…”

                “I know… I know, it’s a lot all of a sudden. But I’m an adult, and I love him, so it’s not a bad thing. We’re both so happy…” she looked disappointed that he wasn’t as happy as she was. “I told you first because I really… really wanted you to be on my side.”

                “I am. I’m on your side. You’re my sister,” they fell silent for a moment, and Jiyong just watched her. She did look happy, but he couldn’t seem to accept that his sister was going to have a baby. She was going to be someone’s mom, and it just didn’t feel real. “You’re not scared?”

                “Well, yeah. Of course I am… but that’s just how it is. No one knows what to expect when they get pregnant… It’s scary, you know? But it’s also exciting,” she smiled to herself, and she let out a small chuckle. “It’s funny… you never know how much you can love another person until you have one growing inside of you. I mean, I know it’s just a little embryo right now, but I love it more than I’ve ever loved… anyone. You probably just think I sound crazy,”

                “I’m just… shocked. I’m shocked, honestly,” he sighed. “Where is he? Justin.” Ji had only met Justin once before. He was from California, and he was every bit the California stereotype. He was a tall, blonde, blue-eyed white guy who surfed, was into vegan food, and was always talking about carbon footprints. Dami had met him while attending UCLA, although Ji couldn’t figure out what the guy could’ve possibly been majoring in.

                “He’s here! I didn’t want to bring him in your room without your permission. I know you’re sometimes shy about people you don’t really know,” she smiled. That was sort of true. It was just that people usually asked him a bunch of uncomfortable questions or looked at him with these sympathetic eyes that made him feel like some sort of charity case.

                “Oh,” Jiyong replied. It was all so strange. His sister was home, but she was pregnant, and engaged, and she’d brought home some guy from California. In a way, it felt more like losing her than when she’d left for good two years earlier.

                “I really…” she stopped herself a little, hesitating before she continued. “Mom said you… you weren’t well, so I… I wanted to bring him so that you could get to know each other. Before…”

                “Before I croak?... I probably won’t, though. Not any time soon. The other week, I just had a bad reaction,” Jiyong was honestly just trying to talk so that she wouldn’t feel the need to bring Justin into the room. He didn’t really want to meet or get to know the guy. He didn’t really want to share his sister.

                “Don’t say it like that,” she frowned. “I … was really scared, when Mom told me you weren’t waking up. I had just found out that I was pregnant and it felt like… like …” she sighed a little, “I couldn’t understand. It was like I was getting one angel and losing another.” Her eyes faltered a little, and she looked away, biting down on her bottom lip. Jiyong didn’t know how to reply. He wasn’t sure if he should comfort her or not; he was always comforting people, it seemed. But the longer he took, the worse the silence felt, and the more uncomfortable he felt. Dami rubbed her hand under her eyelids, wiping away unfallen tears. “I’m going to ruin my make-up,” she laughed humorlessly.

                “Well… I’m not going to die, anyway. So… don’t get weird about it,” he replied softly, afraid that if she got too emotional he would, too. “You didn’t lose me…”

                “I’m not getting weird… It’s just been so long since I… faced it, you know? And, I know, I’m making it about me, again,” she sighed. Jiyong had accused her of making his illness about her, once before. It was in a fit of rage, annoyed that she had abandoned him, annoyed that she hardly looked at him or touched him. He had been sick for about a year and a half at that point. It was still new for all of them. He felt bad for saying it, now.

                “It is about you… It’s about me, and you, and Mom and Dad. It for me, but it’s hard on you guys, too. I know that,” he sighed, moving closer to her. “I won’t be mad if you get upset.”

                “Aww… Is that my baby brother growing up?” she wrapped an arm around him, smiling a little.

                “Yup. I’m a grown up, now, which has to mean you’re getting super old,” he smirked. Dami pinched him. “Ow! Hey, you can’t pinch me! I have cancer!”

                “Oh, sorry. Will it give you more cancer?” she smiled, pinching him again.

                “Ow!” Jiyong whined. “I’m gonna ban you from my room. Your nails are too sharp.”

                “Who’s old?” she teased, threatening to pinch him once more. His eyes widened.

                “Certainly not my beautiful older sister Dami Kwon,” she laughed and he frowned. “You’re mean. Go back to California. I don’t need this abuse in my life.”

                “I am so hurt. I flew all the way across the country to be with my adorable baby brother, whom I just referred to as my angel, and he wants me to go back to California?” she . Jiyong couldn’t fight his smile. “See, you want me here. Don’t you remember saying you missed me?”

                “That was before I remembered how mean you are,”

                “Your mask makes you sound funny,” she commented, her fingers trailing over the hose that was attached to it.

                “Like Darth Vader, right?” he nodded. She shook her head.

                “No. Do you even watch Star Wars? Darth Vader sounds nothing like that. It’s more like a broken fast food speaker. Wah wah wah wah wah,” she imitated him. Jiyong shoved her lightly.

                “Get out!”

                “I’m kidding!” she laughed. He pushed her harder. “Hey! Watch it, I’m pregnant!”

                “Oh… yeah, I forgot,” he glanced at her stomach area. She didn’t look pregnant at all. “Like, how pregnant?”

                “What do you mean?” she looked confused at his question. “You mean how far along?” Jiyong’s eyes got really big and Dami laughed. “What’s with that face?”

                “You used a pregnant lady term. ‘Far along.’ It’s weird,” he lamented. Dami giggled a little.

                “Aww. You’ll get used to it… Well, you’ll have to. You’ll be an uncle soon enough. Anyway, I’m 14 weeks along,” she replied cheerily.

                “Um… okay,” Jiyong didn’t know what that meant. He’d always assumed pregnancy was counted in months. His eyes stared at her abdominal region as if he were trying to make the pregnancy more apparent. She smiled.

                “Not showing much. You don’t have to stare so hard,”

                “Sorry,” he frowned.

                “So… you wanna go brush your teeth and bathe, now?” she asked him sweetly.

                “Not really… but it is a good excuse to get off of Megatron for a while.” He started unstrapping himself, reaching for his cannula. “Can you ask Mom if I can just have some toast or something for breakfast?”

                “No. Because that’s not breakfast, and you should eat a real meal. How do you ever expect to get better if-“ she could nag with the best of them. Jiyong rolled his eyes.

                “Okay. Jeez. I’ll eat,” he sighed, frowning to himself. He peeled the mask off of his face, quickly replacing it with his cannula tubes.

                “You told me you were eating better,” she sighed. He shrugged.

                “Little bit of a sugar coat. I mean, I am eating better… but still not well,” he inhaled deeply through his nose and placed the oxygen tank’s strap over his shoulder, preparing himself to climb off of the bed. “I don’t get sick, though. Only when I’m doing a lot of chemo. It’s just hard to get my appetite back.”

                “You gotta eat. Eating makes you stronger… and eat a lot of antioxidants, so that your body can fight the cancer,” she instructed him, as if he hadn’t heard it all a million times before. He chuckled, rolling his eyes a little.

                “The cancer is my body, Dami,”

                “The cancer is not. It’s abnormal cellular growth, and it can be fought with antioxidants. Justin knows this guy who had cancer and all he did was change his eating habits and he cured himself,” she insisted. Ji sighed.

                “I don’t want to hear about it. I just want to go brush my teeth,” he swung his feet to the ground and pushed up slowly, embarrassed for his sister to see him walking so poorly. “Don’t freak out, okay? I’m fine. My body’s just a little bit weak.” He warned her before he took his first step. She watched him walking towards the bathroom in his room, her eyes silently following his slow and cautious steps.

                “Mom said you had been using a wheelchair,” she sighed.

                “Yeah, well, I’m not anymore. Are you going to wait and watch me?” he cut a disapproving look at her as he opened the door to the bathroom. Dami sighed a little, and she stood up.

                “I know, I know. I’m leaving…” she studied him for a moment longer, shaking her head a little. “When you come out, I want you to talk to Justin.”

                “Not about antioxidants,”

                “No. Just to talk. I want you to know him… to like him,” the siblings locked eyes for a moment, and then Dami smiled a little. “I’ll make you something nice for breakfast. Don’t worry, you’ll really love it.” She left the room, not giving him a chance to protest.

AN: Hi everyone! Decided since I stayed away so long, I'll give you guys a few chapters this week. I think I'll probably update again before the week is out, and maybe even again on the weekend. There's some nice little transition parts like this I'd like to share, and Ji still has to check up with Seunghyun, so... that will happen soon. I was so unsure about this chapter! I thought you guys might not like that I didn't even mention Top, here, but...I wanted to establish Ji & Dami's relationship. I hope you like it anyway haha. I loved reading all of your comments last time, and sorry for all the emotion >.< There's more emotion coming, but there will happy things soon! Thanks!! (& don't forget to comment and subscribe!!)