Demise

Disclaimer: I don't own the show nor its characters. Plot slightly inspired from various life experiences and works that I've come across.

For which the blonde boy of 15 had divulged to his hometown of his own personal, fatal, yet at the same time gut-wrenching truth.

For which he considers an impediment that becomes an impetus of his recent actions and interactions for the remainder of his time, alive and well in this world. Well, as in alright, fine, the incessant I'm okays that were dispersed around. But the many people around, children and adult alike, knew he wasn't alright. Said people are aware that he knows he's not in superlative condition.

Siren Hart had accompanied him to the hospital that day, that day where her Henry had discovered a truth of melancholy that allowed the slow unravel of his demise.

"We're ever so sorry, Mrs. Hart."

Words stung, leaving a gap in her heart that would soon increase as time continued with its course.

97% survival rate. Although very high, please be expectant of whatever happens.

Henry sat on the chair provided, shoulders slouched and brown eyes fixated on the tile floor of the eerily quiet room. The only sounds he heard were his own, heavy breathing and his distressed mother's light sniffles. He was numb, devoid of any emotion as the authorized medical being listed out several types of treatment. A mother's greatest worry was announced only today by a sympathetic yet harshly truthful person. A boy's upsetting outcome was implied by the same person.

The blond made a mental note of the name of the disease as it was mentioned, but opposed it away from thought ever again.

He'll call it HL. It was the initials, and it wouldn't remind him of his future. He wasn't necessarily ready.

"Will you be alright?"

"I'd rather you not ask. Is that fine, Char?" Henry fidgeted with the blue stress ball in his hands, squeezing it as tightly as could every other time. She decided to visit after hearing the depressing news, hoping that his closest ones were accompanying him for his whole duration.

Charlotte gazed upon the boy with deeply worried, yet caring and sympathetic eyes. Sympathy. He wondered, why were they all giving that? Was sympathy the normal response to discovering a close one had a disease?

He'd say yes, by the way the curly-haired girl wrapped her arms around his shoulders when she hugged him. Her tight grip as she did what she longed for. And she would miss it ever so dearly.

"I'm just.. worried."

Henry released from their hug, staring directly into her dilated eyes. "How I feel should be the last thing that you should care about."

Normally, she'd give him an aghast look from his words, but she deduced that he was deeply traumatized, still. Charlotte was lenient of his statement.

"I won't be able to watch you suffer like this."

He whips his head to her in a way that will guarantee whiplash. "Suffer?" he laughed dryly, entwining his fingers with hers. She could feel how much weaker his hands were now, and it legitimately pained her.

Charlotte blinked back tears, watching him nervously fidget as he still had hold of the stress ball. Her grip on his hand tightened.

"You're not the only one that will be affected."

..

Henry stares at her in confusion as Charlotte attempted to hold in her burst of emotion.

"And we see Henry Hart cocooned in his natural habitat, observing his weird hibernation patterns."

Henry chuckled lightly at Jasper's comment, watching the curly-haired boy enter his bedroom. He was only one of two people that he allowed in so far.

"What did they say?"

And wrapped in his duvet, he raised a brow for his long-time friend to notice.

"The hospital people. What did they tell you?"

His words strike Henry like an unexpected bullet to the head. The same reaction of when he found out about his HL only days ago.

"I have a disease."

..

Jasper stood there idly, but Henry could see a glint of pity in the boy's eyes. It irritated to the most amount. What is with these people and sympathy? The reason simply didn't amass to him.

"A disease.. but.. but.."

Henry interrupted him, as much as he didn't want to do that. He inwardly cringed.

"I'll be fine."

The curly-haired boy shook his head, in denial. "No, Henry. I know you won't."

..

"I know I won't." He did state the truth.

"Are you gonna take any medication? Have treatment?"

"My mom's considering chemotherapy."

Jasper nodded slowly as Henry rose from his bed slowly, the dark circles under his eyes prominent from only the last few days of restless sleep. He simply didn't care anymore. It wasn't of importance.

"No one else needs to know this."

He gripped his shoulder tightly, locking eyes with him. It was the same look Charlotte gave him. The stare of a pitying friend.

"Won't the town need to know that Kid Danger has a disease..? Wh-what disease is it, if you're willing to tell me."

Henry tightly shut his eyes. He didn't want to be reminded of his undesirable outcome that could arrive anytime soon.

"Call it HL. And I don't want people to make such a big deal about it."

Jasper's throat tightens, understanding his statement. He only nods, a smile ever so small appearing on his face.

"I'll make sure of that."

Henry looks away, letting the guilt usurp his body, leaving him in a state of dying slowly and one with qualms.

This time, Ray and Schwoz were waiting on the couch as Henry arrived to reveal his truth.

They averted their eyes to the blond when hearing the ring of the elevator door, where they found the boy who looked considerably weaker. He had missed several days of work, and normally his boss would be upset. But when Charlotte and Jasper disclosed it already, Ray knew to be lenient. Henry noticed the lenience of his closest once. The pattern annoyed him.

And what annoyed him further were the stares of sympathy. For the love of God, would they ever stop? he thought. Sympathy was slowly enveloping Henry, to his mass vexation.

Schwoz sauntered over to the boy who walked rather slowly with a basket filled with various gifts. Henry reluctantly accepted it. They exchanged a small smirk. Ray noticed the ingenuity of Henry's.

"Hey, kid-"

"I know what you're gonna say. I'm so sorry, are you gonna be ok? How are you feeling?"

Ray shook his head, rubbing his temples. "No."

..

"If you ever need help, I'm here."

The shorter man exchanged a glance with Ray. "And so am I." The brunette nodded, albeit slowly.

Henry shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm fine, it's ok."

"It's not ok. What will I do without you?"

"Is everything about you?" Henry snapped, furrowing his brows. Ray realized that he worded his statement wrong, and a flash of anxiety appears in him. Henry continued, "I don't know how long I'm gonna live, but I can assure you it won't be oh so long. Are you gonna be relieved when I'm not by your side any longer?"

"Henry, be quiet. I won't be my normal self without you."

"You were fine before I was your sidekick."

Ray sighed heavily, crossing his arms over his chest. "Because I didn't know you yet. I wasn't as close to Drex as much as you, Henry. No one else can fill your space after.."

"Way to make it subtle," Schwoz comments, rolling his eyes. The brunette glared daggers at the man.

Henry fixates his eyes on the floor again, ignoring their comments to one another. He was stuck in his thoughts again. Not pleasant ones. But like the medical professional stated, be expectant of whatever happens.

"Can you both please stop?" Henry gently asks, and they immediately shut their mouths. He picks up the basket, and starts to head to the tubes, feeling the stares of the men on his back.

Ray was now at a loss of words.

Before Henry left, he locked eyes with him.

"Thanks for your condolences. But I didn't want or need any."

And when Henry yelled up the tube, he was gone. Ray could already feel the pull in his heart, and he mentally cursed to himself. That wasn't supposed to happen yet.

..

When Ray went back upstairs to pass by Gooch at the front counter, he had a quizzical expression on his face as he watched the man slowly shake and breakdown. Ray didn't even notice he was shaking.

"Henry."

Gooch raised a brow. "What did he do?"

"Not what did he do, but what happened."

The man let him continue.

"He has a disease and he doesn't want sympathy."

When Piper found out, she was genuinely surprised. A different realization dawned on her, suddenly shifting her attitude towards him. Not the fake good-girl attitude she made appear when she wanted something, or variations thereof, but a genuine kind one when she did care. As much as she despised Henry before, pity seethed.

She put a hand on his head as he lounged on the couch, emotion once again devoid from his face.

"Hey." Her voice was monotone.

Henry's eyes averted from the television to his younger sister. He squinted in suspicion.

"I'm sorry."

Those words, especially when stated by her, the young girl that tormented him since the day she came home from the hospital, placed a weird effect on Henry. He couldn't exactly describe it.

"You don't have to be."

"I've treated you horribly. You deserved a lot better now that you have Hodgkin's lymphoma.. or I think that's how it's pronounced."

She pronounced it exactly. The terms put Henry in a trance of sudden guilt, but he mentally scoffed at that. Why would he have guilt over something he couldn't control? Through his father, the disease was passed on for every few generations. And Henry became the unlucky one.

"I'm fine, if you're wondering."

Now Piper scoffed.

"You're not fine."

"And you can tell how?"

Piper peered over at him, locking her hardened eyes with his neutral ones.

"You try to not make it obvious, but trust me, Henry. It's really obvious."

Jake Hart appeared at his door with a plate of food, hoping to lure Henry to eat. The boy would only eat small portions throughout the day, gradually becoming weaker along the way, and it would become evident that Charlotte was right. He really wasn't the only one being affected, for the house was now eerily more quiet than before. Henry's parents stopped inviting friends over, along with Piper. Charlotte, Jasper, and Ray would call occasionally, but Henry continued saying the same thing.

I'm okay.

But they all knew he really wasn't.

His father opened the door where he found his son staring up at the ceiling, eyes fixated on the lightbulb. Henry was stuck in his thoughts. He placed the plate on his nightstand.

No matter how long that lightbulb lasts, when it dies, it turns off and can never work. But it can always be replaced.

But when I pass, and stop working. I can't be replaced.

He sat on the foot of Henry's bed, watching him. The same, repetitive, annoyinglook of pity was there again. Henry didn't want to crane his head over to see. He knew already.

"Are you alright? I can get you anything if you want."

Henry shook his head. "I'm fine," he announced, voice hoarse. He also knew his father was in denial of his statement.

"You'll be going to the hospital again, but for your treatment."

The blond boy shut his eyes tightly. He didn't want to be reminded at the moment, or ever.

"And if you're thinking do I have to?, then yes, you do. I'm sure you want to live as much as we want you to live."

That's a funny joke.

What's the point, now?

"Please, don't be pessimistic."

I'll try.

Even as they told me that survival rates were high, I still have to be expectant.

I could be that little percentage.

"Okay, I won't be."

And when he started, he expected the worst while his family hoped for the best.

Many words of sympathy were exchanged between Henry and various people as time went on. He stayed in the building of his worst nightmares, as much as he hated to admit calling it that, accepting each statement and gift. Seeing the sympathy could sometimes hurt more than Henry's own obstacle.

The chemotherapy continued. Henry noticed the affects eventually, and it allowed his thoughts to disperse into ones that he knew his family, friends would scold him for. He couldn't help it.

Sadly, everything was not the way everyone else hoped. His health progressively worsened. The aura of happiness diminished momentarily. Everyone and everything would change. Henry expected that now, though.

As the end was sought, his mother cried gripping his hand tightly. Gripping the rope that would hopefully pull away from his demise. Siren lost that battle. Henry lost his own. Two, rather. The other was that he only wanted the sympathy to stop, but it wouldn't.

When word dispersed around Swellview like wildfire of the demise, some reacted rather out of character. Even the ones that hated him ever so dearly sent condolences. A small tribute was created at school.

Ray obtained a box with the boy's gum ball tube and suit, and various other things lent to him. He locked it away in his room, but before doing so, his longing, drained eyes stared at it. He's cried enough.

He vowed to never hire another sidekick. And he fulfilled Henry's want of no sympathy. Others didn't.

I was stuck in my own thoughts of plot while writing my other story Opposites But Not, and I decided to write this. If you felt it was rushed, partially it was my fault, partially it was plot. The way I wrote Henry; he didn't want to be too inclusive about it. The way I planned it; I didn't want to be horribly inaccurate, so I was rather subtle about his condition. If this is inaccurate, feel free to tell me in what ways, and I will alter it. Reviews and constructive criticism are welcome for this one-shot.