A/N: Here it is! A Fight For Life, as promised. I wasn't intending to start it out this way, but there really wasn'y another way I could think of to start it. If something seems wrong or off, or there are tons of spelling/grammar mistakes please tell me. I'll fix it and update it straight away. Anyway, A Fight For Life I got from the fifth piece of my Five Times story. Basically, it's Marcia's struggle with cancer and the obstacles that arise along the way. I've no idea how long this is going to get, and I hope to have updates up swiftly so no one has to wait too long. But unfortunately, my creative writing teacher wants a multi genre project from me and she's not allowing me to do it on Marcia, because our topics have to be real life. So I dont know how quickly I'll be able to get up the updates, or even right the next few chapters.
Disclaimer: Septimus Heap and Company belong to Angie Sage.
Read and please, please review! Reviews make the writer happy!
Marcia Overstrand was seated on what was now Septimus's sofa in front of his fire, her feet curled under her and her fingers playing with the silver whistle around her neck. Normally she wouldn't dream of intruding in on his space, but she needed somewhere quiet so she could think. She also wanted to be alone. What better place to go than to the ExtraOrdinary Wizard's rooms when he wasn't there? She stared into the Magykal fire, its colors too cheerful for the mood she was in. She wanted to forget, about her cough and what she now knew it meant. But Dandra's words kept running through her head.
"Marcia," She began, "You've had this cough for nearly a month. Why didn't you come see me sooner?"
"It's just a cough, what harm can it do?"
Dandra sighed sadly. She really did not want to share the news she was going to need to share. "Sometimes, Marcia, coughs can lead to big problems."
Marcia paled a bit. "What do you mean? It's not serious, is it?" she asked, only the slightest hint of panic in her voice.
Dandra opened up the file she was holding and handed Marcia the top most picture. "I found these in your sample." Dandra looked away, knowing Marcia would realize what it was in the picture and not wanting to see her reaction when she did.
She took the picture, recognizing what it was almost right away. Her hand covered her mouth, and her entire body went rigid as her stomach dropped and an icy emptiness consumed her. "No…"
"I hate to say it, but you have lung cancer. Stage III."
Marcia shut her eyes.
"Why didn't you come see me sooner?"
"I hate to say it, but you have lung cancer. Stage III."
She hugged herself tightly, her nails digging into her skin. The pain was a welcome distraction from the emptiness she was feeling inside.
She hadn't thought the cough was that serious. It was only a cough. She only went to the Wizard Tower to get it checked out because Milo kept insisting, and because she was starting to cough up mucus. Oh, why hadn't she gone to Dandra sooner? The tumor would have been a lot smaller, and the surgery Dandra had talked about would have been possible. She wouldn't have to go through chemotherapy, if that was what she decided to do, and she probably wouldn't be dying. How was she going to tell Milo? And Septimus? What about Alther?
She was so caught up in trying to get Dandra's voice and her own thoughts out of her head that she didn't hear the purple door to the apartment swing open.
Septimus walked into his apartment, and almost immediately he sensed Marcia's presence. He also sensed that something was wrong, although no Magyk was needed for that. If Marcia was here, then something had to be wrong. Otherwise she probably would have been waiting for him in the Great Hall. "Marcia?" he called out as the door shut behind him. If she heard him, she didn't acknowledge him. He walked into his sitting room and found her curled up on his sofa. "Marcia?" he tried again.
She opened her eyes and looked over her shoulder at him. "Did you need something?" she asked absently, her fingers once again playing with her whistle. She was looking at him, but not at him. There was a faraway look in her eyes. Almost empty, he thought.
He recognized her movement; she used to fiddle with the amulet whenever she was nervous or frightened, or didn't know what to do. He stepped around the sofa and sat next to her. "Is something wrong?" he asked worriedly.
She opened her mouth to speak, but no sound came out. She closed her eyes tightly and tried again. "I—yes, you could say there is."
Septimus wondered if it might have been something Milo had said or did. Marcia trusted him, but Septimus didn't. "Did Milo do something?"
That broke her out of her far away state. "What? No! He—"she swallowed, "I've had this terrible cough the last month or so, and the other day he made me go and see Dandra." Marcia couldn't help it, she laughed bitterly. "I got the results today. I wasn't expecting the outcome."
Septimus felt his stomach knot up with worry and concern. "What did Dandra say?"
Marcia knew she had to tell him. She stopped playing with her whistle and clasped her hands tightly in her lap, purposefully looking away from Septimus. It would be best to just say it outright, like ripping off a Band-Aid. "I'm dying." She said, her voice void of emotion.
Septimus's eyes widened. "What?" he gasped.
Marcia looked at her hands. "Lung cancer. If I had gone in months ago, than it wouldn't have been as serious as it is now. The tumor's too large to remove it with surgery, and the cancer has already spread to my lymphatic system," she explained quietly.
Septimus touched her arm sympathetically, feeling as if the floor had disappeared out from underneath him. "Is there anything that Dandra can do?" This wasn't fair at all. Marcia couldn't die, not now, not any time soon, not ever. She had a long way to go before she could even be considered an old lady. Besides, he didn't want to lose her. He didn't exactly know how to explain his relationship with her, but she was very important to him, like Alther had been to her.
Marcia finally looked him in the eye, and he saw the tears in hers. "There's chemotherapy. That's the most effective, Dandra said. If we can reduce the size of the tumor she can remove it. At least, I think that's what she said. I can't remember. I tuned out halfway through her speech." She held out her hand for him to take, and he did, squeezing it tightly. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, a single tear escaping confinement. "I have a week to make a decision, of what I'm going to do. She wants me to talk it over with Milo, but I don't know how to tell him."
She had told him easily enough, Septimus thought, just throwing it out there like that. She probably wouldn't want to do that when she told Milo. But was there really any good way to tell someone you had cancer? That you were dying? "Do you want me to go with you?"
"What?" she asked, confused.
"Go with you, to your Keep, help you tell Milo."
She shook her head. "No, I can do it. I think."
He had one last question to ask her. He'd go talk to Dandra about everything else once Marcia had left, in order to better understand what was going on and how he could help her. "Are you going to go tell Milo right now?"
"I should, shouldn't I?" she ran her hand through her hair. How? Maybe she should just say it outright, like she had just done with Septimus.
He agreed with her. "Yes, you should." he helped her to stand, and she began to cough. He summoned a glass of water from the kitchen, and she accepted it gratefully, taking a sip.
"Thank you," she told him as her coughing subsided. She was thankful it wasn't like some of her other coughing fits, the ones that left her wheezing breathlessly and ended with a tissue full of mucus. The ones she would be having more of in the future.
"It was nothing. I'll walk you to the Way, yeah?"
Marcia took a deep breath as she emerged from Way VII and into her Hub. She slowly began to walk up the spiral stairs, and found Milo on the ground level, in the sitting room. He was sitting in his old armchair, coffee and paper in hand as if everything in the world was normal. She couldn't help but tear up. Nothing would be normal for them anymore, not after she told him her diagnosis.
"How did it go?" Milo asked without looking up. When she didn't answer him, he looked up, and took in her emotionless expression and her trembling hands. His stomach dropped. "How serious is it?" he set his coffee and paper aside, standing up. She moved closer to him, and he met her halfway. She had to look away as he neared her, and he gently took her hands in his. "Marcia?" He ducked his head to try and meet her gaze.
"Dandra says—" she had to stop, unable to continue right away. She was going to tell him as she had told Septimus, outright like ripping off a Band-Aid. "Dandra says—" but she couldn't force the words out of her mouth.
"Marce, what is it?" he let go of one of her hands to gently lift her chin so that she was looking at him again. He then tucked a stray curl behind her ear, and let his hand linger on her cheek.
Both of her hands gripped his so tightly she left marks in his skin with her nails. "Lung cancer," she managed to say.
An icy fear coursed through him and gripped Milo's heart. "What?"
Now that she had told him, she began to ramble in an effort to explain it all to him. "It's too late for surgery because the tumor is too large and that means I'll have to undergo chemotherapy and I don't want to, I really don't want to and—"
He interrupted her by embracing her tightly, the only thing he could think of to do, and held her as close to him as he could get her. She slowly wrapped her arms around his neck.
"I'm dying, Milo. I'm dying," she whispered brokenly against his chest.
A tear or two dripped from his eyes and into her hair. "It'll be okay. We'll get through this," he whispered back, kissing the top of her head.
It was then, hours after she had gotten the fateful news, when Marcia finally burst into tears.