Finding Oliver | Lullabies & Complications - Coliver [HTGAWM]

So this was inspired by the musical Finding Neverland. It doesn’t give anything away from the musical except for a few lyrics to a song and it’s not a song based fic. The musical simply gave me a muse that literally would not and will not leave me alone. @tossmymagicgoldenhair has only been feeding into that so you can all put some blame (and credit) on her. I think both of us have been obsessing over this idea for light years. Also if you really want to be in pain listen to the song “What you Mean to Me” from said musical while imagining Connor and Oliver. 

Also I’m not a doctor and I’m not trying to be. Don’t take any medical things in here to be fact. Please. I’m trying my best to be correct and researching but! 

Also this is a chapter fic and it’s going to be angsty. That’s your warning. I don’t want to give anything away so just. It’s full of angst and I’ve been crying writing/thinking about it. A lot. And almost breaking down at work crying. SO THERE YOU GO. Let me know if you like it! I hope it’s good! <3 

AO3

“…for wherever you are and forever…I’ll be here.”  The baby was clutching at Oliver’s shirt collar with spit down her chubby cheek. For the past two repeats of the song Emma had been staring up at him - forcing her eyes open whenever they stayed shut for too long. Her newest favorite activity was looking into his eyes and she hated to stop for even a moment, especially when it was time for bed. Their eldest was sitting inside the door, rubbing his eyes as he tried to fight falling asleep. He thought himself too old for lullabies yet he always found a reason to be in the little ones’ room before bed.

The song finished for the third time and the baby stayed asleep as he laid her down in her crib. Oliver breathed in the moment and laid a hand over her chest to feel the beat of her heart before he turned to read the second oldest his story. Lucas was already asleep, though, his legs dangling over the side of the bed. Ollie smiled to himself and grabbed the little boy’s ankles to turn him so he was laying properly. He tucked Lou in with a tender kiss between the eyes. “Michael? Are you ready for be-?“ It turned out that Michael was asleep as well, slumped against the threshold. Oliver had to bite his lip to keep from laughing and bent down to lift the oldest boy up, struggling a bit because the eight year old was heavy.

Once he had finished getting Michael settled Oliver sighed and scrubbed his hands together before turning to look around because he couldn’t exactly remember what he had planned on doing after the kids were down.

“That was an easy night.” Oliver jumped when he heard the voice and lit up with a huge smile when he saw Connor.

“You’re home early!”

“I’ve been here, actually.” Connor had watched Oliver start the third run of the lullaby, caught up in how much he loved the other man. He hadn’t meant to slink in the shadows but it had been one of those moments when he simply couldn’t speak, the words stuck at the back of his tongue. It was still terrifying how Oliver’s smile, his gentle touch with the kids, and the radiation of his love could leave Connor reeling.

“You didn’t say anything!” Oliver said in a stunned tone as he rubbed a path from Connor’s shoulders to his elbows. Ollie stepped right into Connor’s space and pressed a tender kiss to the man’s lips, catching his lower for another just as they separated - as if one was never enough. “You look exhausted.” Oliver shooed Connor away from Michael’s room and down the hall.

“Let’s just say I’m glad to be home. And I might actually be put in jail for murder.”

“Client that bad?”

“He’s a fucking moron.” Oliver lifted an eyebrow when Connor snapped. “I know, I know. There’s a baby in the house again.” Oliver hadn’t even needed to reprimand Connor, though he hadn’t actually intended to do so. Connor deserved some leeway to vent and the kids were asleep. “This idiot completely forgot to let us know there was a camera in the house. The camera caught his whole crime on film! I should let him go to jail.” Connor wouldn’t do that. It would reflect badly on his hard-earned career, but he was definitely allowed to pout.

“Come on. Work is over, pasta is now.” Oliver pulled a bowl of warm pasta from the oven that he had left on low, gesturing grandly before he set it down in front of Connor. The other man couldn’t keep himself from digging into the meal, barely even talking as Oliver sat down to eat as well. He always waited for Connor, making sure the kids were fed and ensuring that the two of them always had time together before bed.

“Oh.” Connor said suddenly in the silence. “Your appointment tomorrow…” He gave Oliver a hesitant look and the man already knew what he was getting at.

“It’s okay,” Oliver said immediately. The check-ups were routine. Every six months he would go in to have his counts checked, see if the medication was still working for his HIV, and if he was eating right - doing what he needed to keep his stress down and his immunity up. It was pretty routine at that point in their lives and while the appointments still made Oliver’s stomach drop, he knew Connor was busy. The man worked hard to make sure they all had what they needed and wanted. Worked so that Oliver didn’t have to - so he could pursue freelance work that actually made full use of his capabilities, and so he could be home with the kids. Ollie couldn’t fault him for not being able to make appointments. Even if they were known about well in advance. Connor didn’t know how scared and small they still made Oliver feel - but Ollie kept it that way for a reason. The man could guilt himself into the ground when he thought he had reason, and Oliver was sure Connor had already berated himself enough for his inability to make it.

“Do you think Gemma can come and look after them?” Oliver hated to call a sitter, even if it was only going to be for an hour or so.

“I’ll text her now.” Connor had to stand just a bit to get his phone from his pocket but then he was shooting off the message as promised. “Oliver…” The elder of the two stood and kissed Connor, brushing a thumb through his scruff.

“Connor. It’s alright. Go and get ready for bed, I’ve got the dishes.” Oliver took them to the sink without any protest from his husband. Connor had learned long ago not to even offer to do the dishes. Oliver liked doing them and he claimed to find it relaxing. Instead of wasting time arguing he brushed his teeth and stripped away his suit.

That night when they tucked in for bed they shared a few tender, slow kisses and affectionate glances. Nobody could doubt that their love had only grown stronger and more sure over the years. They moved together with the choreography of time as if they shared a pull of gravity. The moments of hesitance and insecurity were few compared to their tremulous beginning. Even the frequency of their fights had decreased, and their families and friends were awed by the fact that instead of losing fire they only kept it building. Theirs was a love of the ages, even if it wasn’t written about or filmed.

When morning came Connor woke at 6am, trying to be quiet as he lazily pulled away from the warmth and comfort. Oliver always woke no matter how hard Connor tried to keep from disturbing him. It was like he could sense that the other man was no longer close. Connor honestly still found it dumbfounding because whenever Ollie got up to use the restroom the most Connor would do would be to grumble and hide in the pillows. But Oliver? He always woke up when Connor was gone - and he always followed him in their bed. When Connor turned away he could curl against his back - and if Connor turned to face him? Oliver would burrow into the hollow of his throat. He was always keeping their limbs tangled or finding a way to keep contact with Connor as they slept. It was something Connor found remarkable, even if he had never really told Oliver about it.

As expected, Oliver blinked and squinted against the sun when Connor was on his feet. His smile was sleepy and Connor couldn’t help but lean down to kiss his lips even though he knew Ollie wouldn’t remember. “Go back to sleep,” Connor whispered with a brush through the man’s fluffed hair. “I’ll see you later. Text me about your appointment. Okay?” Even though he wouldn’t remember the promise Oliver groggily agreed before pulling Connor’s pillow close to his chest to nose at the lingering warmth and breathe in the smell.

“Love you.” The words were slurred but Connor replied in kind before going about his morning routine, showering and styling his hair. He took his PrEP pill  and had a quick breakfast, grinning when he found leftover pasta in the fridge. It was marked specifically for him to take for lunch, a little heart written on the corner of the sticky note.

Just as he was about to leave he heard quick little thumps just before getting his legs knocked forward. When he looked down he found Lucas, as expected, clinging to his ankles. Connor didn’t know how the kid was so full of energy in the mornings. “Daddy? Weren’t you gonna stay home today?” It broke Connor’s heart whenever the kids couldn’t get more of his time. Especially when it was a promise he had made to them and needed to break.

“I have to work today, buddy,” Connor said as he bent down. Lucas scurried backwards to hug his neck. “But I’m going to try very hard to come home early. And you get to spend time with your Aunt Gemma!” Connor was glad the both of them had wanted kids so badly - even though Oliver had been completely shocked to find out Connor wanted them just as much as he always had.  Lucas didn’t look very pleased by what Connor had said but he held his chin up, trying to show Connor he wasn’t going to cry. “You better bring me back some ice cream.” Was all the six year old said before backing up to let Connor stand. He looked pretty amusing standing there in a dinosaur onesie with his arms crossed, and a stern expression to rival one of Oliver’s.

“You got it, kid. Be good for your Papa when he gets home, okay? No fits.”

“I’ll try. No promises.” Connor couldn’t fight the hard laugh before pointing to the stairs.

“Get back into bed.” He watched as Luke toddled off and finally shut the door, giving the house once last look before he headed to work. He knew in a few hours Oliver would be up making them breakfast and singing them songs, and it made his chest ache to know he wouldn’t be there. He was pretty sure they were getting French toast, too. How unfair was that?

Oliver’s appointment was at 11am. The time came and went, as well as another hour before Gemma called him. Connor had to duck out of court to take the call. “I know you’re busy,” she started quickly. “But Oliver isn’t home yet. Should I stick around? I don’t have any plans today. Maybe he got held up in traffic or something.”

Ollie would have called if it was something like that. Connor immediately felt his chest constrict and had to swallow a few times before he answered. He had a courtroom to get back to. “Yeah. Can you stay? Thank you, Gem.” He knew she could hear the strain because she let out a soft laugh and used that tone she always used to try and keep her younger brother from stressing out too much.

“Like it’s such a chore spending time with the munchkins.” She was quiet for a moment and then offered more assurance. “He may have just gotten caught up in something. Try not to make things up. You’ll only freak yourself out and you have a case to win. I love you.” He mumbled the same three words back to her and hung up, trying to wipe his sweaty palms off before he went back in to defend his client. Despite her words his mind was reeling with scenarios that only became worse as the day went on. His text to Oliver went unanswered for another two hours. The reply he finally received wasn’t exactly satisfying, either.

“Just got home. Sorry.” It read. Where was the explanation for his lack of communication? Connor couldn’t get home until 6 that evening. He made sure to bring home a pint of mint chocolate chip for the boys - it was the only flavor they could agree on. But even lingering in the line for the register racked his heart rate with nerves. When he made it home he immediately knew something was wrong.

Oliver hadn’t made dinner. He knew because there were remnants of McDonalds in the trash can, and no dishes on the drying rack or lingering scents of a cooked meal. He also wasn’t downstairs helping Michael with his homework or being a supportive presence. The eldest boy was sitting on the floor at the coffee table all by himself - and he was also apparently put in charge of watching the baby, which was something they had distinctly discussed not happening until he was at least twelve.

Thankfully the kids were all behaving. Lucas had made a bit of a mess with his blocks and coloring pages in the hallway, and there were some crumbled pieces of cereal on the ground in the kitchen, but that was the extent of the damage.  “Papa’s sleeping,” Michael said helpfully. “He said he needed a quick nap.” That was easy enough to believe, especially if Oliver hadn’t gotten home until later than expected. The Doctors office always stressed the other man out, even if he thought Connor didn’t know that.

“There’s ice cream.” Connor said, shaking the bag. “Which you’ve clearly earned. Why don’t you get some for yourself and Luke. Homework break.” Oliver insisted those were important so Connor kept up with it. Michael really had done a good job looking after things. Connor went to check on the baby to see if she needed changing or fed, but she was happily playing with her toes in her swing, so he let her be.

“Ollie?” Even with the peace of the house he knew something had to be up. Maybe Oliver’s CD4 count had dropped again. That could happen sometimes, especially if he was fighting off getting sick when the blood was sampled. It was odd that Oliver would leave the kids by themselves as he had. The man was extremely dedicated to them and to spending time with them. Of course he let them have their independence and didn’t hover too much, but to leave all of three of them alone? Especially the baby? It made Connor’s stomach twist with anxiety.

As Michael had said, Oliver was buried under a mound of blankets, his breathing slow and steady as if he were asleep. Connor kneeled on the bed next to him and gently squeezed his shoulder. “Hey Ol. I’m home,” he whispered. Oliver turned after a second to look up at him and Connor knew he couldn’t have been asleep. “What’s going on? You got home pretty late…” Oliver sat up and for a moment Connor couldn’t help but flash back to the moment he had found out that Oliver was positive. The room had been dark just as it currently was, and the man’s face  looked strained like it had back then. Connor could tell he had been crying even if Oliver had done a pretty good job of hiding the evidence.

“Oliver…?” Connor rubbed at his arms again, unable to hide the concern in his tone.

Oliver cleared his throat. “Uh…that cough..” Ollie started, rubbing at the blankets. “The one we - the one I just accredited to the seasons changing?” He chewed at his lip and looked away from Connor. “It might be…it might be a little bit of a bigger deal. Than that.” Connor could see his hands shaking and placed his own over Oliver’s. “You were right…” That didn’t make it better. Connor felt even more worried when Oliver said that. He remembered the conversation they’d had. The argument. He had wanted Oliver to go and get it checked out just in case, but that was just how Connor was. Whenever one of the kids coughed he immediately wanted them to go to the hospital too, but they couldn’t do that. It wasn’t practical and kids coughed all of the time. Oliver had said the same for himself, that it could be any number of things. Allergies, changing seasons, hay fever. It was nothing to worry about, he insisted. Connor knew it was just because Oliver hated going to the doctor. He had given in because Oliver hadn’t had a fever or any other symptoms that were really too stressful - until recently. His breathing had been a little funny in the evenings, but again Oliver insisted that it was just from the changing seasons and Connor had listened to him.

“He thinks I might have PCP.” Oliver decided it was better to just say it outright. “Actually he’s…pretty sure.” He admitted. Sugar coating this wasn’t going to help Connor be prepared. Pneumocystis Pneumonia was an opportunistic infection (an infection that could be fatal to someone with a weakened immune system) - a bad one. “It’s already tanked my counts,” Ollie whispered the last part. He should have listened to Connor - the cough had been going on for weeks. It would have gone away if it was just because of the season or allergies.

Connor wasn’t sure he could remember how to speak for a few seconds. His tongue was heavy in his mouth and it felt like his chest was caving in. “H-how bad?” He finally asked in a whisper. The cough had been going on for weeks. And had something had happened to weaken his immunity beforehand if he had managed to develop PCP? What if he had been sick for a while before any symptoms had even shown up? Six months in between visits was too long, Connor decided just then.  Had the medication stopped working without them knowing it? He had been on the same treatment for a long time - it was known to happen. There were so many questions rising in his mind.

Oliver’s silence should have been enough to warn Connor but he didn’t want to believe it. He almost wanted to tell Oliver never mind and hope for the best. Hope it was some kind of mistake. The man hadn’t been kept in the hospital, after all, so maybe he was okay and they would just need to be careful for the next few weeks and do everything right.

“He gave me some medication to take to try and keep it from getting worse. I have to go back tomorrow,” Oliver murmured. “There will be more tests and he’ll decide whether or not I need to be kept for a more intense treatment…he wanted to keep me tonight but. I wanted to come home.” Oliver couldn’t help it. He had wanted his children (and hadn’t wanted to worry them) and to tell Connor in person, in their house, rather than in some strange room that smelled like chemicals. He knew Connor would be upset with him - and Connor did get an irate look on his face, but the man didn’t say anything harsh.

“What else did he say?” Connor asked. More silence spread between them and Connor thought everything seemed muffled. Even the brush of Oliver’s fingers under his palm. Tears had risen in Oliver’s eyes again and Connor just knew. He knew. He didn’t want to but he did. Oliver didn’t have to say it for any other reason than verbal confirmation so that Connor couldn’t possibly have any doubts.

It took a while for Ollie to actually get his voice to cooperate.

“He said…” Oliver looked down at his lap because he just couldn’t meet Connor’s gaze. “He said this means…it means I.” Ollie took a long breath to brace himself.

“It means I have AIDs.”