Happy November! Did you know that November is National Family Caregivers Month, National Home Care and Hospice Month, and National Hospice and Palliative Care Month in the United States? Well, now you do! It’s also when my country celebrates Thanksgiving. So, to kick off this month of caring and gratitude, I’m spotlighting caregivers by counting down my five favorite hurt/comfort scenes.
As the name implies, “hurt/comfort” is a genre of fanfiction that involves one character being hurt in some way (physically or emotionally) and another character comforting or caring for them. I’ve always loved this genre, both in and outside of fanfic. It’s funny because I am not a touchy-feely person in real life and can be awkward around friends or family members who are going through tough stuff. When I’m the one who’s sick, hurt, or grieving, I usually prefer to be left alone. Perhaps it’s because I’m the introverted, stoic type that I admire people who are more outwardly affectionate and unafraid of expressing their emotions. It also may be why I tend to write characters who keep secrets and hide their pain until they literally can’t anymore. In any case, I really enjoy reading and writing about characters supporting and taking care of each other through hard times, as these five scenes show.
5. “The countdown is on.”
Curtain Call is one of my favorite stories because it’s full of hurt/comfort scenes, which made it difficult to narrow them down to one for this blog. But, after much consideration, I ultimately went with Chapter 64, which takes place the night before Nick is admitted to the hospital for high-dose chemotherapy, followed by a stem cell transplant – an aggressive course of treatment meant to keep his even more aggressive cancer in remission for as long as possible. Nick is understandably nervous about this, so, as the countdown to transplant looms, his private-duty nurse practitioner turned live-in girlfriend, Cary, tries to take his mind off the misery that awaits him the next morning. “That was my role, at this point,” she tells the readers, “to say and do whatever I could to make him feel better.” She cooks him a delicious, nutritious dinner and watches the VMAs with him before they go to bed. But Nick tosses and turns, too restless to sleep. It’s not just anxiety keeping him awake but physical pain from the injections he’s been getting to stimulate his bone marrow to produce more stem cells to harvest for the transplant. Cary gives him a massage to relieve the tension in his body and help him relax, talks reassuringly to him, and holds him until he finally manages to fall asleep.
This is a bittersweet chapter that perfectly captures the nature of Nick and Cary’s relationship and the overall tone of the story. Admittedly, I’m also a sucker for a sensual massage, as you may have noticed; it’s a hurt/comfort trope I’ve used often in my stories over the years. I may not be touchy-feely, but I would love to give a Backstreet Boy a backrub – just not under these particular circumstances. I adore Curtain Call in all its hurt-comfort glory, but, like most of my stories, I’m glad it’s just fiction.
4. “Shit happens.”
The World Will Be Waiting doesn’t have as much hurt/comfort content as its predecessor, My Brother’s Keeper, but caregiving is still an important part of the plot. As quadriplegic Kevin returns to his old career while navigating a new relationship, he regularly relies on the people around him to help with the things he can’t do independently, including getting in and out of bed, showering, getting dressed, and going to the bathroom. At the beginning of the novel, his hired attendant, Dawn, does most of his care, but once Kevin starts dating again, his new girlfriend, Natalie, gradually takes over more and more of the caregiving duties. Kevin’s reluctance to subject Natalie to certain aspects of his disability, for fear of becoming a burden to her, is one of the story’s major subplots.
In Chapter 23, which takes place less than three months into their relationship, Natalie’s resilience is put to the test when she wakes up one morning to find that Kevin has had a bowel accident in their bed. Although she reacts with kindness and compassion, Kevin is completely mortified and kicks her out of his room, sending her to get Dawn to take care of it instead. Dawn is unfazed and downplays the incident, joking, “Shit happens,” as she does her best to clean up the mess. When Natalie returns to the room, she doesn’t make a big deal out of it either, telling Kevin, “I can handle bathroom stuff. It’s not a dealbreaker for me.” Then she farts in front of him for the first time to make him laugh and show that she’s also human. It’s a defining moment in their relationship, proving that Natalie can handle the most unpleasant parts of Kevin’s disability and paving the way for her to play a bigger role in caring for him.
I didn’t expect to write as much about literal shit as I have in this series, but since bowel management is arguably the worst part of living with a spinal cord injury, it has become both a source of conflict and a symbol of acceptance in Kevin’s fictional journey. The way other characters react to awkward situations like the one presented in this chapter says so much about them as people. I chose this particular chapter because it shows two different characters providing comfort to Kevin after his pride takes a hit.
3. “Take these broken wings and learn to fly.”
Inspired by the BSB bonus track “Take Care,” My Brother’s Keeper is basically one big hurt/comfort fest. After Kevin sustains a spinal cord injury in the first chapter, his family and friends flock to his side and spend the rest of the novel comforting and caring for him as he learns to navigate his new life as a quadriplegic. Needless to say, I had a lot of chapters to choose from for this blog.
One of my favorites is Chapter 13, which represents a turning point in Kevin’s early recovery. The chapter starts with an anecdote about Kevin finding a baby bird that had broken its neck falling out of its nest when he was a kid. He took the bird to his father, who told him that the kindest thing he could do for it would be to kill it and end its suffering, since it couldn’t survive such an injury. Determined to keep it alive and nurse it back to health, Kevin spent the rest of the day caring for it, only for it to die overnight. Of course, the injured baby bird represents injured adult Kevin, who feels just as helpless and hopeless as he lies in a hospital bed, letting his mother feed him applesauce. Two weeks after the accident that left him both paralyzed and widowed, he’s mourning the loss of his independence almost as much as the loss of his wife. A part of him wishes someone would put him out of his misery.
But, in spite of his grief and depression, Kevin is determined to go on living for the sake of his son, knowing he’s the only parent six-month-old Mason has left. He does everything his doctors, nurses, and therapists ask of him, pushing through the pain of physical therapy in an effort to regain as much function as he can. In the middle of one of his PT sessions, the other boys drop by the hospital for a visit, fresh from a rehearsal for their upcoming tour. Although it’s hard for Kevin to see them and be reminded of the life he once had and lost, their visits lift his mood and break up the monotony of his day. The boys provide some much-needed comic relief as they banter with each other and plenty of support and encouragement as they help Kevin sit up on the side of his bed for the first time since the accident.
Late that night, long after his friends and family have left, Kevin lies alone in his dark hospital room, looking at the raven he’s been hallucinating. It perches on his bedrail, so close he could almost reach out and touch it, but by now, he knows it’s not real. He closes his eyes and tries to sleep, but he can’t get comfortable with his neck brace digging into his collarbone. He tries to lower one of his arms, which, up until this point, he hasn’t been able to move at all. But, this time, he manages to activate his bicep and shift his left arm a few inches. This small success gives him hope that he will eventually regain the use of his arms. When he glances back at his sole witness, the bird, he realizes that it no longer looks like a raven, but a blackbird. He sings a few bars of “Blackbird” by The Beatles, the first time he’s sung since the accident, and looks forward to spreading his wings and learning to “fly” in the rehab facility where he will soon be transferred.
This is one of my favorite chapters because it finishes the first arc of the story and lays the groundwork for not just the rest of the novel, but the series as a whole. Kevin’s burden complex is on full display in the first half of the chapter, as he grapples with feelings of humiliation and guilt over having to depend on his mother to feed and care for him like she did when he was a baby. But the second half of the chapter shows the drive and determination that will help him become stronger and more self-sufficient by the sequel, The World Will Be Waiting. And while this is the last chapter in which he hallucinates it, the blackbird continues to be a symbol of hope and resilience throughout the series.
2. “If you wanna get in the water, get in the water!”
I’ve written a lot of hurt/comfort fics over the years, but Broken, my original Nick cancer story, is the one that paved the way for all the rest that followed. Like My Brother’s Keeper, it’s full of bromance as the boys rally around Nick to support him during his battle with bone cancer. Like Curtain Call, it also features an original female character whose relationship with Nick starts out platonic and eventually becomes romantic. Nick and Claire’s relationship is not as one-sided as Nick and Cary’s; they both do their share of hurting and their share of comforting as they complete their cancer treatment together. By Part 3 of the story, Claire has gone through a life-saving bone marrow transplant and come out the other side, while Nick is gearing up for the biggest trial he’s faced yet: the amputation of his left leg. The arc that follows is the best part of Broken.
One of my favorite chapters in this section is Chapter 115. It takes place a couple of weeks after Nick comes home from the hospital. Tired of hobbling around the first floor of his house on crutches, he’s been looking forward to finally getting his preparatory prosthesis, a temporary prosthetic leg that will help prepare his residual limb for the more advanced prosthesis he will get once it’s fully healed. But learning to walk on it proves to be a slower process than he had anticipated, leaving him frustrated by his physical limitations and perceived lack of progress. He takes his anger out on AJ and Howie, who have been staying with him while he recuperates. As tensions rise, AJ suggests that Nick invite Claire to hang out with him for the evening, so he and Howie can take a much-needed break and get out of the house for a while.
Nick calls Claire, who comes over to keep him company while AJ and Howie hit the clubs. They watch a movie, but when Claire asks what he wants to do next, Nick lashes out at her, claiming there’s not much he can do except watch TV and play video games. Realizing that he’s going stir-crazy from being cooped up in the house for too long, Claire convinces him to go outside to the patio. As they sit by the pool, Nick confesses that he misses the water, so Claire suggests that he go for a swim. Nick is initially hesitant, fearing he won’t be able to swim with one leg, but Claire talks him into trying, telling him to stop whining about what he can’t do and get in the water. He follows her advice and feels his frustration dissolve the moment he submerges himself in the water. As he soon discovers, swimming with one leg feels different but is definitely still possible. Nick quickly learns to compensate for his missing leg, using his arms and remaining leg to propel himself through the water. It’s a triumphant moment that reminds me of the scene in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone when Harry rides a broomstick for the first time. But it doesn’t take long for a weakened Nick to wear himself out. After getting out of the pool, he and Claire head back to his bedroom to change into dry clothes. She puts on a pair of his sweats, and they snuggle in his bed together, listening to a Journey album. By this point in the story, they’ve both developed romantic feelings for each other, but they haven’t acted on them yet. They almost do at the end of this chapter, but they’re interrupted by AJ, who bursts in just as they’re about to kiss. Their first kiss comes a few chapters later.
I love this chapter because it perfectly captures the nature of these two characters and their relationship in Broken. Nick is typical Broken Nick, moody and wallowing in self-pity. Claire is kind and encouraging but not afraid to call him out on his bullshit. She pushes him to stop feeling sorry for himself and do something to get out of his funk. She is the spark of light that leads him out of the dark cave of depression he’s been hiding in since his surgery, just like he becomes for her in the sequel, By My Side. Despite all the ups and downs they go through together and individually, Nick and Claire never stop supporting each other. That is why this chapter landed near the top of the list.
1. “We’re right here with you, Frack.”
Just as the stars shine brightest during the darkest night, the comfort is most satisfying when it comes after a whole lot of hurt. That’s why Chapter 46 of A Heart That Isn’t Mine took the top spot on my list. It wasn’t the first chapter that came to mind when I thought of my favorite hurt/comfort scenes, but when I went back and reread a bunch of them, it’s the one I enjoyed the most. I think that’s because reading this chapter feels like breathing a huge sigh of relief.
Following on the heels of Nick’s final near-death experience, this chapter takes place one week later, as he begins his long recovery process. After spending nearly two weeks in a medically-induced coma, kept alive by an ECMO machine, Nick is finally ready to be taken off life support. Brian waits anxiously with Lauren while Nick undergoes surgery to remove the ECMO cannulae and close his chest. Afterward, they watch over Nick in the recovery room, waiting for him to regain consciousness as the anesthesia wears off. Against the post-op nurse’s wishes, Brian removes Nick’s restraints, knowing that waking up to find himself tied to a hospital bed once again will likely trigger a trauma response. Instead, Brian and Lauren hold Nick’s hands and whisper words of reassurance that he’s all right now.
I love the way Brian and Lauren lean on each other in the first half of the chapter. Lauren holds Brian’s hand as they listen to the news report about Rob and Dani’s arrest, knowing it has triggered traumatic memories of the torture they subjected him and Nick to. At the same time, Brian tries to shelter Lauren from the truth, sparing her the horrific details of what Dani did to Nick. I haven’t seen Brian and Lauren interact much in real life, but it wasn’t hard for me to imagine the two of them coming together under these circumstances to support Nick, the common denominator between them.
The second half of the chapter shifts to Nick’s perspective as he emerges from his coma. Predictably, he’s groggy, confused, and in pain at first, but the sound of Brian’s voice and the sight of Lauren’s face comfort him. He signs “I love you,” letting them both know that he’s neurologically intact. Realistically, Nick probably shouldn’t have survived this story, but, of course, I allowed him to have a miraculous recovery because it would have been cruel to kill him after everything I had his captors put him through. All hurt and no comfort is not nearly as fun or fulfilling as giving a character who’s been to Hell and back a new lease on life. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?
This blog is dedicated to all the caregivers out there who care for family members, friends, and patients. Thank you for the important role you play in improving the quality of life for other people. I’ll be back later this month with my next blog!