Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ How To Save A Life ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

How To Save A Life
Trowa is a doctor. Quatre, a sickly violinist, is his newest patient. Duo is a psychologist at the hospital, and depressed Heero is his hardest case yet. With Sally Po as the Dean of Medicine, and Wufei as a neurologist, life is interesting at Victoria Point Medical Hospital. And as life spirals out of control, can Trowa and Duo learn how to save a life? Or are they the ones who need saved?
Pairings:eventual 3x4, 1x2, 5x?, ZxN and others.
Genre: Angst/Romance/Drama/Tragedy
Warnings:The usual. AU (of course). Yaoi (Duh). Romance (naturally). Angst (yep). Smart Duo (Well, duh, he's a phycologist!). Suicidal Heero (He needs a psychologist, people! Something's gotta be wrong) Dying Quatre (He needs a doctor, people! Somethings gotta be wrong) Annoying Wufei (Okay. That one you could have guessed) Death Catherine. Dead Treize... dead lot's of people. (but you can't really be sad about Treize being dead. He's such a bitch. And I really mean that.)
No Releena bashing! Get it? Good Releena, you've gotta love her! Will be eventual lemon, but is still rated M because of language, and subject matter. There will be foul language, and there is references to incest and rape and suicide attempts and self mutilation . And most of the medical stuff is made up. I watch House too much. Some of it is true... but don't bet on it.
Disclaimer: Nope, don't own GW. Or House. Or the song 'How To Save A Life' by The Fray. (or any other song I might use along the way) The only thing I own is the plot bunnies- and an OC or two. I don't get money for this (pout)
Alright, and PS: I apologize to kudasai, who, incidentally has a story with this same title (That is also in a medical setting). That one is posted as a 3x4, like this one. And where that one is based sort of off Greys, this is not. I hadn't seen that story when I started writing this, and I considered not posting it, but I decided that I would. Oh, and whereas that story mostly only takes it's name from the song... this entire fic is based off it. I tried, but I couldn't find another song to base it off of.
Oh, and italics represent song lyrics. Underlined represents scene/time change. "double quotations" are spoken words. *Flashback*/*End Flashback* sets off a memory from before the main timeline of the story.
Alright. I guess now that all that's out of the way, we can move on to the actuall story. Enjoy!


Chapter One
"Step one, you say 'We need to talk',"
"He walks. You say 'sit down, it's just a talk."

Monday, around 3 or 4 in the afternoon
The cafeteria at Victoria Point Medical Center was quite empty, with most of the lunch crown already gone. A few people mulled around, and a few actually sat down at the tables. Tucked far back in the corner, away from what little crowd there was, two young men wearing the white lab-coat typical of the doctors in VPMC sat eating their late lunch. One was clearly Chinese in heritage. From his raven black hair to his midnight black eyes, to his petite stature and facial structures. A crisp white shirt showed from beneath the white coat, and the coat's pocket sported a clean gold name tag that read 'Dr. Chang, W. Dept. of Neurology'. His companion had rich caramel hair swept forward over one clear, emerald eye. He'd dressed his tall, lean frame in plain khaki slacks and a green sweater. He wore a name tag, too. His read simply "Dr. Barton, T. Oncologist, DCR'.
Music played softly in the background, barely audible even in the sparse crowd. The strains of the song could barely be heard, but no one really payed much attention anyway.
Time is a valuable thing...
"New patient?" The Chinese man asked. His lunch companion looked up from the manila file in his hand.
"Hmm? Oh, yeah. A transfer."
"What's this one got?"
"What?"
Dr. Chang sighed. "Any transfer you get, Trowa, there's always something horribly wrong with them. Treize Kushrenada. Pancreatic cancer. Terminal. Sara Valejo, brain tumor. Terminal. Middi Une. Malignant Melanoma. You gave her three months, she made it four. Randy Mitchell... need I go on?"
Trowa shrugged and sighed.
Watch it fly by as the pendulum swings...
"Quatre R. Winner, transfer from Doctor Velasquez in Huntsville, via UAB. Diagnoisis, Leukimia. Enrique gave him less than a year. That was eight months ago."
"Oh," Chang said softly. Trowa always wore himself out on such cases. If Trowa gave the diagnosis, it was fine. But it was like the brunette doctor had some kind of compulsion to prove the other doctors wrong, to prove that someone didn't have to die if he didn't say so. It might have sounded... anal? arrogant? stupid?... in other people. But that was just the way Trowa was. He cared.
Watch it count down to the end of the day...
"Sorry bout lunch," Trowa apologized. His salad was untouched, and he hadn't said very much, focusing on his new case.
"It's alright," Chang said. "Go ahead and go meet with your patient. As long as Maxwell dosen't come by, I'll be alri..."
"Hey, Wuffers!"
Chang jumped, almost knocking his drink over.
"Maxwell," he said wearily, not even bothering to get angry. "My name is Wufei Chang. When will you learn?"
A slender young man slipped down into a chair between Trowa and Wufei. His hair was a long, waist-lenght mass of chestnut/auburn pulled back into a loose braid, and his indigo eyes verged on being purple. And those eyes sparkled with mischief.
He took a sip from his juice.
"Oh," he said casually, "As soon as you learn that my name is Duo. You're the only person that calls me by my last name."
"It is considered respect," Wufei ground out. Truth be told, he actually did respect the twenty-five year old psychologist. But... he would never admit it in so many words. Especially not to Duo Maxwell himself.
The clock ticks life away...
"Not to me. Now say it. Du-o. Du-o. Understand?"
"If I call you Duo, will you leave and never pester me again?"
"Hmm?" Duo put a hand on his chin, as if mulling it over. He took a thoughtful sip of his juice. "Tough call, but no. I enjoy your company too much, Wuffers."
"And with that... I take my leave," Trowa quipped. He gathered his files, and took his untouched food to the trash bin.
It's so unreal...
"See ya, Trow," Duo called out. Trowa waved a hand, but didn't turn around and kept walking. Keeping up a brisk pace, he made it to his office, five floors up, in less than ten minutes.
But he was already late, apparently.
He stopped in the open doorway and observed the young man sitting in his office. It was an odd back-side angle, but it was adequate for a quick observation. Pale blonde hair that looked a little unkept. Very pale skin that verged on unhealthy-looking. A small, very slender frame. Pretty, but certainly sick, although he didn't look like a twenty-four year old who had only less than three months to live.
Didn't look out below...
"Ahem," he coughed politely, walking into the room. "I'm sorry to keep you waiting."
"Oh, no problem," the young man turned, and Trowa's gaze met with surprisingly bright, sparkling teal eyes. The young man offered him a small smile. "I think I'm kind of early."
"Hmm. Well, I guess that means you're Quatre Winner?"
He received a slight nod.
"Good. My name's Dr. Trowa Barton, and I'm the director of the Department of Cancer Research. You're case was transferred to me from... Huntsville, I see. So I'm assuming that your cardiologist, Dr. Velasquez, fully briefed you before he sent you here?"
The smile was sad this time.
"He did," was the soft answer.
Watch the time go.. right out the window...
Trowa's heart nearly broke. It did every time someone came to him after being handed a death sentence. Usually, all that could be done was to make the best of what was left. But Trowa refused to give up on anyone, especially young people like this with an entire life ahead of them.
"Dr. Velasquez and your oncologist report that the tumor is inoperable."
"Hmm," his patient nodded.
"And I assume he told you about the experimental surgery we offer here? And the risks?"
"He did," came the soft voice. "And I don't want to go through with it."
This startled Trowa. He'd never had a patient decline the surgery. It had a twenty-nine percent chance of success. That was better than the one and two percents some other surgery methods offered. And certainly easier and quicker than trying to wait for a transplant to become available.
"Mind if I ask why?"
A shrug. "I know what kind of life I have left. I know pretty much when and how I'm going to die. Even if the surgery was a success, what kind of life would I have? For years, I'd be reliant on shots, iv's, medication. For the rest of my life. Alone, weak, and drugged. I don't want that." His voice was soft, but strong and full of conviction.
"Most people leap at any chance for life. Most people don't give up."
He turned a shocked face to Trowa, his teal eyes shimmering.
"I'm not giving up," he stated indignantly. "I would never give up. I... I simply accept my fate. A life as a burden to society? It's not a life at all. I'd rather face destiny on my feet."
"Without having fought?"
"I'll be fighting to my dying breath!"
Trowa looked taken back. The vehemence in the voice. He believed him. It was his job to try to talk his patient into the surgery... but he had an idea that no coercion would change this man's mind. He may look small and weak, but inside he had fire.
Tried to hold on, but didn't even know...
Quatre Winner suddenly smiled brightly, and the sheer beauty of that face nearly knocked Trowa breathless.
"I know what you're thinking. How can someone like me beleive so strongly about something? How can someone so weak have such strong convictions."
"Strenght does not come from physical capacity," Trowa said lightly, "But from an indomitable will."
His patient smiled again. Trowa liked his smile... he didn't seem quite so sickly when he smiled like that, lighting up his whole face. And Trowa would make it his mission to help this man smile until his dying day- however soon that may be. "Ghandi. Nice."
"Mr. Winner," Trowa began, "I do not..."
"Quatre," he stressed.
"Quatre," Trowa began again, "I do not... It is my job to talk you into this surgery. It is highly effective, and I believe you'll find the consequences not as horrible as you think."
"No. I will not go through with it. Do what tests you want to, learn what you can- I do know that this is a rare type of cancer- but I will not have you operate on me."
Trowa nodded. "Alright. I'd like to have a biopsy done on the tumor. There may be other ways to..."
"Radiation didn't work. Chemo-therapy. Your drugs. I went into recession, but now it's back. I don't see what other way you can see."
"Besides the surgery?" Trowa asked. "There is no other way I know of besides a full transplant and hoping that the cancer hasn't spread beyond the heart. But there may be other ways to control the cancer. We couldn't reduce it, but we might could slow it down. Fifteen minutes of your time now could possibly lead to having another a few months. Maybe a year."
Quatre sighed. "It won't do any good, but go ahead. Do your biopsy."
"And might I recommend a good psychiatrist..."
"I'm not crazy." Trowa winced at the icy snap. It seemed he was already failing his new self appointed mission in life.
"One to help you deal, help with the acceptance...."
"I've already done that."
"Someone to talk to. Someone who won't try to convince you to go through with something you don't want to do." As Quatre stood up, Trowa took two bussiness cards from his pocket. "One is mine," he said, "Call if you have any questions at all. The second is a friend of mine. Duo Maxwell. He's a wonderful man. I'm sure you'd like him. And he's a psychologist."
Quatre sighed, but smiled just slightly as he took the cards.
I wasted it all just to watch you go...
"Thank you." he said, in a way that told Trowa he didn't really think so. "I might just do that."

tbc.....
AN: Dr. Velazquez is a real person, but I hope I don't offend him. He's a heart doctor in Huntsville Alabama. And like I said, most of the medical stuff is just wish-wash/mish-mash (to quote my daughter) and simply made up.
Oh, and just in case I forgot, or forget to mention it... they're all in Nashville Tennessee. The hospital is made up, but you'll probably see a lot of real life stuff in here. And it's modern day time, but maybe just a few years in the future.
Oh, and the song lyrics are all from "In The End" by Linkin Park (I absolutely love this band!!!!) The lyrics kinda/kinda don't fit the story, but let me know what you think of them.
Oh, 'cept for the very first two lines... that's How To Save A Life. First two lines of every chapter will be that song, kinda like a chapter title.