One Minute of Light

Even and Isak one-shot fanfiction of Skam. Also posted on Ao3.

It was afternoon still, almost evening and the sun could be seen starting to dip down behind the skyscrapers that made up Oslo’s business district. They were on the eighth floor with a view on the whole city and Even couldn’t help but be reminded of that night in the hotel, where the height and large windows had made him feel like the whole world was at his feet. Now, with Isak lying in the bed next to his chair, pale, bald, lips slightly parted letting out a soft breath, he felt mocked by the skyline and busy city. He sighed, getting up and taking a few steps around the small hospital room, stroking the younger boy’s face lightly with the back of his index. He’d been here for an hour and Isak still hadn’t woken up, exhausted, probably, by that afternoon’s dose of chemo. Seeing him stir under his touch, Even drew back. Better asleep than awake when awake meant feeling like complete and utter s**t, as Isak put it. Quietly as possible, he stepped out of the room, closing the door softly behind him and heading out into the hall.

It was eerily quiet, even in the hallway and the smell of disinfectant, as always, drove him crazy. The nurse on duty flashed him a small, polite smile as he passed her by. He counted down the rooms; 810, 808, 806, 804, 802, 800, and finally the light green elevator door followed by the small coffee corner. He had to work that night, at the restaurant, so he poured himself a large mug of coffee from the pot that seemed to magically never empty. But Isak, he knew, would wake up nauseous and in pain, so he reached into the tea box and pulled out a flimsy white bag whose label indicated it contained caffeine-free chamomile tea. His favorite. Both steaming beverages in hand, he made his way back to room 813 carefully, blowing softly on Isak’s tea as he walked. He opened the door easily with his elbow, used by now to the heavy structure. In the bed Isak was now awake, eyes bleary but open, scrolling away on his phone.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty,” he said, flashing the younger boy his signature grin.

Isak smiled back, “Halla. Is that chamomile tea?”

“Indeed it is,” Even answered, placing it on the bedside tablet and sitting back into the armchair positioned right next to the bed while Isak pulled himself up to a sitting position, readjusting his pillows. The younger boy closed his eyes for a second, letting out a shaky breath, fighting the nausea.

Even looked away for a second, then forced a smile onto his face, “Figured this would be better than a cheese tosti. Even with cardamom.”

Isak opened his eyes again and grinned, “Cardamomme,” he answered exaggeratedly, bobbing his head slightly to the side. Both boys laughed.

“Cheers,” Even said, bumping his paper cup with Isak’s, “Don’t forget to look me in the eyes, or we’ll be cursed with bad sex,” he joked. Isak blushed �" even now, he was still flustered when they talked about these things �" and turned to his cup, taking a small sip. Even took a sip, too, and they sat there, drinking in silence for a few seconds.

Then, “Vilde’s having that Christmas party tonight, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, but I’m working. At dad’s restaurant, I’m still saving up for this summer.”

“This summer.”

“Yeah, so no party for me.”

“Right. But there’s also the tree lighting. Before I mean,” Isak pressed on.

“Yeah, but I’m here,” Even answered carefully.

“You should go. I mean, I’m stuck here, but there’s no reason you should be too. And I’m getting out in a few days, when this cycle is over, and then we can hang out.”

“I’m good. I see them all day at school, I’d rather be here, with you.”

“Well, that’s really nice of you. But it’s not �" you don’t have �" God, Even, don’t you want to party anymore? And you �" you love Christmas!” the younger boy was getting frustrated now, his voice growing steadily louder.

Even glanced towards the door warily, aware that if this went on, a nurse would soon be coming through it to investigate the source of Isak’s shouting. Inside the room, it was almost dark now and he could barely make out Isak’s angry features. He didn’t want to answer, and didn’t know what to answer, because there was no right answer. He knew how Isak felt; powerless, frustrated, like a burden. He felt the same when he was depressed, like he was holding everyone back, like he didn’t deserve their love, like they were crazy for staying there with him. So tell him that! A voice that resembled his therapist’s egged him on.

“I want to see the tree, but it’s no fun when you haven’t got anyone to hold hands and keep warm with,” he finally answered, not really meeting Isak’s eyes.

“So just call up Sonja, then. I’m sure she’d be glad to hold your hand.”

“That’s not fair, Isak.”

“Just �" I can’t bear to see you there, every day, just �" just waiting for me to somehow magically get better. Because, the truth is Even, I might not! I might not get better and then what will you do? Sit here anyway? Maybe… Maybe you were right when you said this was bound to end badly. And maybe you should just go,” he finished, slightly out of breath, the last sentence almost dying on his lips.

There was a second of silence as the two boys held each other’s gaze, Isak defiant, eyes almost pleading Even to agree with him, lips pressed tightly together, Even at loss of words, his expression lost.

“No,” he said in a strangled voice, “No, this really smart and sweet guy once told me that we might all die tomorrow, something about nuclear warfare or something, and that, in the meantime, we should all just enjoy being with each other.”

“He does sound kinda smart,” Isak answered softly.

“Yeah, even though sometimes he can act really stupid. But then I have this other smart friend who told us both that when everything seems hopeless, just take it one day at a time. And if one day gets too much, just take it one hour at a time. And if one hour gets too much, just take it one minute at a time. So that’s what we’re going to do,” Even rambled on, leaning towards Isak in an effort to see his face in the now almost completely dark room.

“Even and Isak, minute by minute,” murmured Isak, “What will we do this minute?”

Even looked outside, walking the few steps to the window. Outside, on a square just visible if you pressed your forehead to the cold glass pane, a small crowd was gathered around an unlit Christmas tree, cradling glasses or warm wine in their gloved hands. All their heads were turned towards the clock on the church they were facing.

“This minute, we’ll watch the tree lighting,” he said, offering a hand to Isak to help him out of the bed.

Grabbing the top comforter from the bed and wrapping it around his shoulders, Isak made his way to the window, gluing his forehead to the window, a smile lighting up his face. “That’s chill,” he said without looking away from the tree.

“That’s chill,” answered Even, his arms around the smaller boy. A cheer erupted in the crowd, and the tree’s lights blinked on.