"Dad, do I have to do it?" Shawn asked pleadingly.

The two were standing in front of the bathroom mirror. Shawn's eyes were darting nervously back and forth between his own reflection and Henry's.

"Shawn, stop being dramatic. You can do it now, or you can wait until it all falls out on its own. It's your call."

"Fine," Shawn huffed, picking up the hair clippers from the bathroom counter. He sighed and turned them on, wincing in anticipation of the horrors to come.

It just took was a few swipes over his head, and it was over. All his hair lay scattered over the tile floor. He kicked at the tufts absently, almost as if he was resigning himself to his fate.

It took a few minutes before he could finally bring himself to look in the mirror.

"Damn," he groaned once he got up the courage. "I look like you!"

"What does that mean?"

"Sorry. Nothing personal. It's just…different."

Shawn ran his hand over his now completely bald head.

"I feel like a tennis ball."

"You'll get used to it."

"I guess."

He sighed again as he stared at his brand new, almost unrecognizable, reflection.

"I don't care what anyone says. Leukemia sucks."