A/N: Alright! Just as I promised my readers of Desperate Enough, I have made a Raura one-shot dedicated to Robin Williams. It is really sad what happened to him, and he touched the hearts of so many generations. I decided to put in Middletown because he's such a big part of it, a very special place of many memories of mine, especially the Everett Theatre. So here we go!
Disclaimer: *singing* What do you want from me? What do you want from me-ee? I don't own any of this, any of th-i-is.
EDITED: 9/6/2014
"Suicide is a permanent solution
To a temporary problem."
-Lance Clayton (Robin Williams)
Upon hearing the news that my favorite O Captain, My Captain had passed, my heart shattered for the only sixty-three-year-old man. He was a great man- and woman, and bird, and wax model, and genie; if you count his roles as a faux nanny, cartoon voice, presidential representative, and blue wish-granter enslaved by a golden lamp and matching shackles. The beauty in his art was everywhere, and we had yet to notice the half of it. As of then, he was merely, "a crazy one", but he was more than that.
He was talent in purity.
His voice, everyone knew, even the natural automation done by his trachea. His face, everyone smiled to. His comedy, no one could withhold their love from. His acting, everyone adored.
So when the news came that he was gone, so young and half-accomplished, I resulted in wallowing in tears with the comfort of a soft blanket, dry, cinnamon flavored Life™ cereal, and a sippy cup of ice-cold water. My evening was spent misty-eyed over the news of the morning, to a man I'd never once met. But I knew one thing. We had something in common, something I'd take pride in if he were still alive, something I share with so many more talented artists.
We were both bipolar. He must've been at a low depression rate, as the same moment I was high in mania, ready to take on the world. But by the afternoon, my spirits were low, and I was unmoved from the couch for a long while.
It all changed when he came home, dropping his things by the door and seating himself behind me, curling his arms around my cold body, despite the fluffy blanket.*
"I heard," he explained. I said no words back, or even acknowledged him for that matter. Ross knew how much I adored the middle-aged man, and that I would be crushed when that fateful day occurred. He knew how much it would affect me, when the man was my sole role model- so much like me in one simple way. "It's okay," he sighed, "to feel bad. We all do. I don't know how you feel, but I have an idea." He hugged me tighter, pulling me into his chest while resting his chin on my shoulder. I inwardly flinched. I had bumped my shoulder on a cabinet earlier, and I could feel a bruise forming, even if I had been hit lightly.
We sat in silence for Genie knows how long, statues for an unbearably aching painful remorse that I had yet to understand. The blonde holding me didn't force me to talk, and I didn't feel it in me to do so. I didn't feel worthy of it. I didn't feel as if I deserved to say anything on the day a great man wandered.
I was too afraid. I was just like him. It could've easily been me. I could've easily committed suicide, but I didn't. I guess it's because I have Ross here, at the very least, to watch me every moment of my life. In the morning, he gets me out of bed, after he'd showered, gets dressed in the hallway while I shower to make sure I'm moving. He's always making me keep the door unlocked, jumping into the room at the slightest thump. He's made sure I can't get a hold of any razors except the ones I absolutely need, ever since he found little red spots on my arms and stomach, although I don't remember where they came from.
He calls at least once a day from the studio while we both are on lunch break, checking to make sure I eat because he's convinced I'm not doing so, due to my recent loss of weight, although I haven't been trying to lose any.
When he has a day off, he comes with me to the filming of whatever I'm working on, and never neglects an invitation to come with him to the studio whenever I can. We live in a two bedroom apartment, but we use one for a guest room. He sleeps with me in the other, and I know that he never falls asleep until I do. We simply lay pressed together in the full-sized bed, absorbing the silence as he strokes my hair or rubs my belly or back, sometimes running his large hands over my thin arms since he knows I've had frequent chills lately, even when I feel hot and sweaty, which I had noticed was happening more often at night.
Now it's not like Ross forces me into these things- he's never made me do anything I didn't have to, but sometimes he knows I need a little push. Many times, I've been thrilled to be with him all day, but there are also those days where it's hard getting out of bed. We work around those, though. I'm on daily medication, but I think it's more of Ross keeping me together.
"It's not fair," I finally chant lowly. "It's not fair, it's not fair. Why do all the bad things happen to good people?" I ask him, turning to face him.
He lifts his head from my shoulder in surprise. His eyes search mine gently, worriedly. "Sometimes, bad things happen to good people to make better things happen," he explained softly. "He wasn't happy here. He could be somewhere better now."
I shook my head in opposition. "That's not the same. It's not fair. None of this is fair."
The blonde sighed deeply. "You're right. None of this is fair. Life isn't fair, Laur. But that's how it's going to be. You know why? Because in the end, there will be a reason. There's a reason for everything. Remember Mr. Mayiagi?"
I nodded.
"He made Daniel do all those ridiculous tasks, but in the end, all those tasks were what trained him."
I let out a deep breath. "Okay. I believe you."
Ross' arms were always so warm and inviting, and I found myself melting into his embrace, my head nuzzled into the crook of his neck. My eyes fluttered shut as his lips touched the top of my head, and I whispered a small, "Thank you," into his collar-bone.
There was flooding on the east coast the next day, and a flash flood watch in Middletown, Delaware.
"Laur, can I show you something?" Ross called from the living room. My attention was grateful for the distraction as I quickly complied, hating the grueling task of cleaning every little seed out of a cantaloupe to make juice. My body was feeling strangely tired in the last week, and it seemed harder than usual to scrape the cantaloupe.
I exited the kitchen with a towel pressed between my hands, plopping down on the couch beside my blondie boyfriend in exhaustion.
"Look at this," he said, turning his laptop so that I could see the screen. I craned my neck to see it as he explained. "On September 8, the band and I are on our East Coast Tour, right in Baltimore, Maryland. But look, only about two and a half hours away in Middletown, Delaware, on Main Street, the Everett Theatre is playing Dead Poets Society in honor of Robbin Williams. I wanted to know if you'd like to go."
I took a moment to take it all in. The small town of Middletown was where Dead Poets Society was filmed, right in St. Andrew's school and the infamous scene of the Everett Theatre. The picture on the screen displayed the front of the theatre, adorably old-fashioned seeming. In the style of many classic theatres, beneath the lightbulb-traced "Everett Theatre" was the row of which usually held the title of the currently showing movie. Instead, all that was written was a simple, "R.I.P Robin Williams".
My gaze flickered between Ross' eyes and the screen, both shining patiently, somehow making me feel sleepier. I turned to him, and sucked in a cool breath. "Okay."
And that's when I collapsed.
Leukemia. That's what the doctor told us at the hospital. It was Leukemia. Leukemia had made me bruise easily. It had made me lose weight effortlessly. It had given me little red spots on my skin. It had induced chills and sweat and fever to me more often. It had brought the fatigue that caused me to faint.
It was going to ruin my life, beginning with the new, large, purple and green bruise on my hip. This Chronic lymphocytic leukemia would change my life.
Just as it had been described, I felt well for years- two to be exact- before I needed treatment. It had affected my lymphoid cells, which form lymphatic tissue, which makes up the immune system. I was sick. I was dying.
She told me there were treatments. There was chemotherapy. I wasn't to receive an injection, but pills. I would have to take them on top of my other medications, and have another checkup within two weeks to see how I was doing. She gave me advice about keeping people close and having someone to talk to, but I tuned her out. I tuned all of it out. Ross paid attention for me, my mind already occupied with another thought. I was dying. My life depended on a handful of pills.
How had everything twisted so suddenly? Just last year we were wrapping up our show on Disney Channel. Two weeks ago I had completed filming my latest movie. Now I was dying.
Despite my diagnosis, we decided not to change our plans. The two weeks had passed, and I had my checkup. I'd been on chemotherapy for about a week and a half, and there were no changes so far.
My body was gradually getting weaker, but only I could tell. Ross knew that I would be; he was constantly looking for changes in me, but I didn't dare to show him. Our trip was in a month, and I was praying that I'd last until then. But I was trying my hardest, using up all my strength to show that I'm feeling fine, to make it to the theatre without a wheelchair. I knew I was taking a risk, that in the end one of two things will happen. I would either break down once we'd left Middletown, or I wouldn't make it until then. But it was a risk I was willing to take.
Family and friends visited over the next week, Vanessa, then Rani and Calum, Kevin and Heath, my parents, Mark and Stormie Lynch, even Maia Mitchell and Derek Hough- Ross' cousin- passed by.
The doorbell rang as Ross pulled me out of bed for another difficult morning. He had a guilty expression as he asked me gently, "Do you think you could get that?"
I was about to turn him down when I realized- he was only wearing a bath towel around his waist. I childishly puffed out my cheeks as I trudged past him, throwing my hair into a messy bun. Too short to reach the peephole, I cracked the door open, and upon realizing who our visitor was, slammed the door, undid the chain latch, and threw the door back open in anticipation for my sister's embrace.
I could've sworn she was trying to tackle me. Seeing her face instantly lifted my spirits, and I beckoned her inside as a grin broke out on my face. "Vanessa! What are you doing here?"
She smiled even wider as I lead her to the couch. "What? I can't visit my little sister?"
I rolled my eyes. "You know what I mean."
"I came to see how you guys were doing," she responded, gazing around the apartment. "And I wanted to check out your house," she added.
My eyes dropped to my lap. I'd forgotten that I hadn't invited her over since I moved out. "We're doing fine. We still haven't finished furnishing, but-"
"Laura," she cut me off softly, but before she could continue, Ross emerged from our room- shirtless.
His eyes widened as he realized that our visitor was not indeed the UPS man dropping off a box, but my own sister. He froze, cursed once under his breath, and disappeared back into the bedroom.
Vanessa and I giggled as she called out, "Nice to see you, too, Ross!"
He reappeared, with a white t-shirt a few seconds later. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Love you too," he joked playfully as she stood to give him a hug while he put one arm around her with a kiss on the cheek. He crossed to my side, leaning down for a kiss. I dropped my lips to his cheek, and he pouted. "You missed."
"Oh, go away," I said smiling and shoving him away. "You already kissed my sister."
Vanessa snorted as he began to walk away crying out, "Oh no! My girlfriend's jealous! IT'S THE END OF THE WORLD!"
I laughed and he smiled even wider. "Are you guys hungry?"
"Yes," I responded.
"Vanessa?" He asked.
"She is too," I butt in, cutting her objection short.
"Okay." He headed into the kitchen, ready to fix some M&M pancakes.
My sister shook her head to clear her mind. "Anyway, you were saying earlier?"
I sighed. "Chemotherapy."
"What?"
"I take pills. Four a day. Two for the Leukemia, two for the Bipolar."
She nodded. "Okay."
I couldn't take it. Only a minute of solemnity and I didn't like it. "We're going to the Everett," I blurted suddenly, and I could see Ross lift his eyebrows in my peripheral vision. "I'm going on the tour with the Lynches," I continued. "We're going to watch Dead Poets Society."
"You're welcome to join, Vanessa," Ross called from the kitchen.
"Really?" She asked, her eyebrows shooting up.
"Yeah. I mean, I don't think hanging out with my parents backstage throughout the tour is all that great. You two can have some fun at the concerts."
"Alright," Vanessa said, turning to me. "We can work something out."
Rani and Calum come two days later, and we reminisced old stories from our Austin&Ally days. It was nice, and I almost wished I was fifteen again, starting out for my first major role, the year before I unnoticably began to develop Leukemia.
Kevin and Heath showed next, but briefly, to say hello and wish us luck.
After them came my parents, who stayed overnight and spent the day with me while Ross was at the studio, as I had a break after finishing the filming of my last movie. Vanessa had already told them about the trip we planned to take and I could tell they were a bit skeptical, although they never objected.
Maia Mitchell, the girl of which had done the Teen Beach movies with Ross decided to pop in next. Albeit, the faded rivalry of our fans over Ross, we were actually quite good friends, much like the Twitter blowout about R5 and The Vamps over that music video that I had been in about a year ago. Maia was really sweet and had this perfect Australian accent that I envied, and we were both already in relationships that some of our fans seemed to sometimes forget. We talked for a bit, and she even let me do her hair for her date that night.
One of the last people to come was Derek Hough, Ross' second cousin. He was actually coming to pick something up from Ross, but he talked to me a bit. He even knew about my Leukemia. I asked him how he knew- no one even knew I was bipolar, much less the more recent discovery of my other disease. So how did he know?
That's when he told me- the tabloids knew I was sick.
We had already decided that I would join the tour. There were only so many bunks in the bus, and I agreed to share with Rydel, Ross' older sister while Vanessa decided to take the small cushioned area that she fit perfectly into by the windows. We would leave Charlotte, North Carolina on September 8th, and have the concert in Baltimore at seven o'clock that night in the Ram's Head Live venue. The next day, we'd drive down to Middletown to watch the twelve o'clock show, stay overnight, then drive back up to Baltimore on the tenth to fly out for the next show in Sandy, Arkansas on the eleventh. It was perfect.
Well, at least that's what I thought it would be. It was the longest two and a half hours of my life, curled up on the couch of the tour bus, watching us head northeast on Route 40 from Baltimore, until we finally turned right onto Route 301 and began our descent towards Middletown. We didn't pass much, besides crossing the Summit Bridge, a small airport, and a Middletown Music shop. It wasn't fifteen minutes later that we reached the intersection of Bunker Hill and 301, where we turned onto Main Street. Soon enough, we were parked before the Everett itself. Not much had changed from when the movie was filmed, if anything at all. Leaving the tour bus parked on the narrow street didn't appeal to any of us, so it was decided that we'd park at a parking lot by a hotdog place, then walk a little to reach the theatre.
We stopped at the front of it, people in lunch breaks passing us for the sub&steak place beside the theatre. Vanessa, Rydel and I, being the overly excited trio of the group, reached it first. As we absorbed the place in all its glory, the others managed to catch up to us. Ross appeared beside me, his cheeks pink from jogging behind us in the early September breeze. He offered me his arm, which I carefully took a hold of.
"This is it," he murmured into my hair, planting a quick kiss on my head.
Rydel turned to us, her face breaking into a huge grin. "Do you see it? We're here! Laura, can you believe it?" She cheered, hopping off toward Vanessa and her older brother, Riker, before I could answer.
I inhaled, and exhaled with a "yeah," and a smile as a response to Ross and Rydel. "Y'know, before he was famous, he used to do stand-up comedy here?" Cute Blondie shook his head.
"Hey, guys. Maybe we should head in before Rydel blows," a voice warned lowly behind Ross and me. We turned to find the third oldest of the sibblings, Rocky, who was watching Riker, and their best friend, Ratliff, try to calm an ecstatic Rydel. Their parents and Vanessa stood to the side, also watching in amusement.
Beside me, Ross rolled his eyes playfully as he pulled me toward the front doors. This was it. This was what I'd been waiting for since forever.
After paying for our tickets, we went to find some seats. Ross sat to my right, wrapping a secure arm around my shoulders. Beside me sat my sister, followed by Rydel, Riker, Rattliff, Rocky, and Ryland. I closed my eyes, leaning into Ross' side as Mark and Stormie took their seats beside him.
I opened my eyes as the movie started, smiling as I realized the St. Andrew's in the movie was in the same small town as we were now.
A few laughs rang around the theatre in the opening scene with the awkward situation cast about the characters. There were a good amount of other people, and I guessed that summer vacation was still coming to a close in Middletown.
I flinched a bit when Robin appeared, so young and happy-looking. Ross pulled me closer, holding me tighter. And then came one quote, that I took to heart for as long as I could remember after that day.
"Carpé diem, boys. Make your lives extraordinary."
Mr. Keating, a.k.a Robin, had taken his class out to look at the school trophies on the first day of his class. I rested my head on the chest of the blonde holding me- holding me to sanity. Keating began to teach them in a very different way, including allowing them to call him "O Captain! My Captain!" In reference to a poem. As Keating continued on with teaching methods unorthodox to their school, ripping out pages of books deemed ridiculous and drawing forth the inner poet of a self-conscious student, he showed nothing more than a teacher who had lost all his sanity, yet was too wise for questioning. The more he grew on his students, the better things seemed. They were climbing on his desk- to look at the world in a different view, and doing waking exercises- to show how people fall into conformity, and suddenly they were learning about much more than English. He was inspiring them to love poetry, to seize the day, to be free thinkers. He was teaching them about life.
Students revived the literary club he'd once been a part of, and things were suddenly blowing apart. They were writing articles about girls joining the boy's boarding school, falling in love, joining plays, rebelling against orders, and ultimately, a death is inquired. I was bawling at that point, almost forgetting that almost a few minutes before I had been celebrating the sight of the Everett. Finally, my crying had begun to die down, and I could definitely hear a few sniffles from the other girls in the theatre. But Keating was crying too, and I felt my heart plummet.
All too soon, the final scene was approaching. Keating was walking out, and his formerly self-conscious student was suddenly standing on his desk, calling out, "O Captain! My Captain!" More and more of his pupils had begun to follow along, and the most heartbreaking thing he could say is said.
"Thank you, boys, thank you."
The two other girls and I had to use the bathroom to clean up our faces, especially mine despite the fact that I had used waterproof mascara. I don't know how I had managed to laugh and cry so much in two hours.
When we were finished, we joined the rest of the Lynches and Ellington Ratliff outside. We took a few pictures by the theatre, and signed our autographs for a group of girls- two around twelve years old, three around seventeen or eighteen who had also been watching with us.
As they walked away, Ross turned to look at the Everett, and then to me. I was still gazing at the place, a single tear rolling down my cheek. I felt his calloused hands cup my face and turned me towards him, two fingers lifting my chin so our gazes met. He leaned his forehead against mine, wiping the wet trail left on my cheek with his thumb. My eyes fluttered shut, and he sealed the space between us with his lips. The kiss was soft and gentle, sweet as his dark honey-colored eyes. One of his hands left my face and curled around my waist, while mine found their way to rest on his chest. He dipped his head to deepen the kiss, and I pushed up on my tippy toes to reach him.
Ross and I didn't have the amazing love story every girl wants. We had a story by chance. I can't say it was fate, or it was destiny, because people don't go around in real life saying, "oh! He randomly walked up to me on the street one day and kissed me because it was destiny!" No. Our story was completely by chance.
We were both fifteen, getting ready to audition for a new Disney Channel show. The producers placed all actors in one room, and paired us up. We were one of the last two left, and I really thought I was going to be put with that cute Noah Centineo kid. I looked more like him than that Aubrey Peeples girl, whose dyed blond hair put her in similarity to that tall guy across the room with an obvious blonde fringe peeping out of his navy blue beanie . Instead, they put Noah and Aubrey with other people, and looked me and the Blondie over. The two men, Kevin and Heath as that were called, began to debate lowly, and had the audacity to smile as they paired us up.
No. Way. He was tall, laid-back-looking, and blonde. Austin and Ally were supposed to be cousins- we did not look like cousins.
Pouting sadly, I stepped as far away from as I could while Kevin and Heath instructed us to line up. Blondie and I were in the back, and he motioned for me to come closer so I would actually be in the line, rather than mildly beside it.
"Come hither, small child," he joked as I shifted into the line, looking at him oddly.
"Small child, uh- I'm fifteen," I told him.
"You are?"
He's surprised.
"Mhmm."
"Damn, girl. I though you were twelve or something."
That concluded our first greeting. We hadn't realized the line was moving, and that we were subconsciously moving with them.
Kevin, seated at the table before us with Heath, cleared his throat. "Ms. Marano, Mr. Lynch?"
Our gazed snapped back to the two men, Blondie nudging me forward with his elbow as I blushed and approached the table. I was about to grab the last booklet when Heath's hand flew over it. His eyes flickered between Blondie and me before he handed the taller boy another two packs of paper instead. "Try these ones."
As we walked away, he eyed the papers skeptically, but I was watching him.
"Lynch? What a weird name. It sounds like, 'oh man, you just got lynched!'"
He lifted an eyebrow at me. "Touchè, Moron," and with that, he continued walking.
I stopped for a moment, slightly taken aback before hurrying after him. "It's MARANO!"
When we stopped at our table, both Lynch's eyebrows flew up as he read the script. "Looks like somebody liked us," he commented, handing me one of the copies.
I looked down at the paper in my hand. "Austin Moon? Ally Dawson? I thought they were Rays?"
He laughed. "Me too."
By the end of the session, we had gone through the script twice. We were allowed another day to perfect it, and the audition would be the day after that. I offered to practice at my house, and he accepted.
"Give me your phone," he said as we walked out to wait for our rides.
"Why?"
"So you can text me your address."
"Oh." I dug my phone out of my bag, handing it to him as we stopped by a bench.
"Well, shit, Marano. How do you use this thing?"
I laughed as he opened my flip phone, squinting at the tiny screen. "It's a touch-screen, dummy. I'm not that low-tech."
"Oh." He blushed awkwardly, typing in his contact information. "Here. My ride's here." Lynch handed me the phone, standing up. "See you tomorrow?"
"Yep. It's a date," I joked.
He chuckled and began to walk away. "Sure." He sent me a wink, before turning around. He didn't need to see to know I was blushing.
It wasn't until I told Mom that Blondie was coming over and she asked for his name that I realized- I didn't know it. I looked through my contacts to see if he had written his name, and Vanessa laughed when I read aloud what he had put himself as. Darn that 'Devilishly Sexy, Hot Blonde Guy'.
He came the next day, as promised, and we ventured into the backyard to practice.
"So I know you first name now, Miss Laura Flip Phone Marano, but I believe you don't know mine yet," he said. I had texted him my address earlier, going with said name to identify myself.
"Oh? I thought you were Devilishly Sexy, Hot Blonde Guy? You don't want me to call you that any more?"
"No, call me that all you want. But my name is Ross. Ross Shor Lynch." He stuck out his hand, which I easily shook
"Laura Marie Marano. Nice to meet you."
That was our first proper greeting.
Most of our time was spent chatting, though, joking and laughing and arguing and even a tickle fight when we learned just how ticklish each other was. I nearly pounced on him in excitement when he told me that he was related to people on Glee and Dancing With The Stars. He thought it was hilarious when I told him that Vanessa was on Switched at Birth, and the first thing I could think of in sign language was the word "drunk". Practicing was only squeezed in between the lines of fooling around, but we still somehow managed to perfect our parts.
Our audition was a success, and Ross even managed to cramp in some improv, where he played a trumpet through another trumpet.
We went on to meet Rani and Calum, all becoming a close pack in time. I still went to school- real school, and some of my friends even teased me about this thing called Raura.
Ross was quickly picked up for a new movie, and when I visited him on set before they shipped him off to Puerto Rico, I met Maia. She and I instantly clicked, and we joked around with Ross a lot. She even helped defend us against romance rumors.
Things came and went, I met Rani's brother from Modern Family, Ross got a tour, we visited Australia and Maia, Ross and my eighteanth birthdays came and pretty soon it was almost 2014.
Blondie and I had already shared three on-screen kisses, only one of which was actually real.
It was on New Year's that it happened. In Hershey, PA, R5 was having the first concert of their new tour, and midnight was approaching quickly. I watched from the third row as they finished their song. He quickly shoved his guitar into the hands of a roadie, and hopped off the stage. The girls around me squished together as he approached, and I was pushed to the front.
Those dark brown eyes locked with mine, and he smiled.
And suddenly, his lips were on mine too. It was short, but sweet and warm in the freezing winter. His arms released the screaming girls around us, and came down around my waist as my hands came to his chest. His lips were soft, moving with mine as he pulled me closer. He dipped me slightly, smiling into the kiss, though we were being pulled apart all too soon.
Then it hit me; that was our first meaningful kiss.
He leaned his forehead on mine, and whispered one thing. "Happy New Year's, Laur."
January rolled around, and we finished up Season 3. Around May, we'd been picked up for a Season 4, and we decided to rent an apartment together right after I graduated. I already had an indie movie coming out, and I was given the opportunity for another. I accepted.
It was well into the second week of June did something start to change. I didn't eat as much, I didn't feel like getting up in the morning, and everything seemed dull. And then a week later I was up all night, jumping and excited and happy. I even asked Ross if he wanted to go skydiving. And then a week later, I cried myself to sleep every night. Ross never fell asleep before me after that. He took me to the doctor, and I was diagnosed with Bipolar II.
And then Robin passed. And I was diagnosed. And I was kissing Ross in front of the Everett.
We pulled apart as we heard a click and a wolf whistle. Vanessa, Rydel, and Stormie were cooing over Rydel's phone, and Ross was glaring at Rocky. I let out a small laugh, burrying my face in Ross's chest. His lips went to my hair as he whispered, "Dogtown?"
I nodded against his shirt. "Dogtown."
We all headed to the hotdog place by the parking lot with the bus with the hotdog statue dressing itself in Ross' and my favorite colored condiments. When we finished and left, I was feeling a little queasy as Ross supported me with his arm as we walked.
My biggest fear was confirmed when I collapsed for the second time. But what scared me more was when Ross caught me and whispered something that made my heart drop.
"Ally,"
The medications weren't cutting it. That's what I learned shortly after I woke in the Christiana Hospital.
My eyelids felt hot and heavy, but I opened them anyway. And I was glad I did. Ross' russet eyes met mine, and a smile creeped onto his face as he leaned over to give my forehead a kiss.
"Austin?" I mumbled, because my vision was still adjusting.
He chuckled. "Close enough."
I smiled weakly as I sat up. "Hey, stranger. What'd they say?"
His smile dropped some as he took my hand and began to play with my fingers. "The good news is, no new bruises- you're welcome. The bad news is, the meds aren't working like they should. They already have a wheelchair..." He couldn't look me in the eye as I watched him.
"I'm going to be in a wheelchair?" My eyes pricked with fresh tears. It wasn't the chair that upset me, it was the fact that I was growing weaker. I didn't want to. I wanted to die strong. I wanted to die a death in fulfillment. How could I do that if I depended on a pair of wheels instead of my own legs? "But- but my legs are just fine! I can do it. I'm strong enough."
The blonde sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "I know. I don't want you to be confined in a fucking wheelchair for the rest of your life, but there's nothing we can do. I know you're strong, Laur, but your body isn't."
That's when it hit me. No matter how strong I try to be, my death was inevitable. I couldn't live forever. I wished there was something I could do about how I die. All I had left was to fight. And I was determined to win my last battle.
"Carpé Diem... make your lives extraordinary."
"Are there any other options?"
"Yes, Dad. I'm okay. Yeah. Yes, he is taking care of me. Dad, he calls during work every day! I know. Okay. Okay. Mhmm. Love you. Bye."
I dropped the phone and let out a huff.
"What'd he say?" Ross asked from the couch.
"Oh, you know, a typical father talking to his teenage daughter," I said from the kitchen table as I grabbed my crutch.
The doctors had originally offered a cane after I refused a wheelchair, but it made me feel like I was closer to death than anything. So I used a crutch. It made me feel better, like I was more in a position of healing than dragging out towards death.
"So basically, he was asking if he needed to kick my ass?"
My legs began to move toward Ross, and I plopped down beside him, cuddling into his side. "Yep."
I can't say things were better than ever, but life was moving on, the ever-rolling wheel of days kept spinning. I wasn't counting my days, but I was doing something with them. Every morning Keating's- or Robin's- words got me out of bed. Carpé Diem... make your lives extraordinary.
Now, I didn't want to be known as the girl who "had a great run, and spent the rest of her life fertilizing daffodils," so I decided to do something. We raised awareness. The tabloids already knew of my diseases, so why not make use of it? I didn't beg for sympathy from the public, but I showed that I was fighting. Ross and my families began different events, and even got involved with some. There was the big Frightland events in Delaware, and even the Mud Runs and Zombie Runs done there mostly around summer and Halloween that we traveled out to join in.
My death was inevitable, we all knew that, but I was, as Keating put it, sucking the marrow out of life. So I put aside my fears and decided to take on the challenges that Robin Williams has unknowingly put before me. I looked at the world in different views, I refused to fall into conformity, I tried to seize the day. And suddenly, I understood the world a little better. We only understand about 0.000000000000000000001% of the world, and yet somehow, I could see the views of people opposite my mind.
Ross once told me he wished I would stick around longer, because he wanted me to become 'a Moon.' I hadn't a clue what he meant by this at first, but when I figured it out that night, I quickly rolled over and kissed him.
I wasn't dreading the day I'd finally be gone, or even counting toward it. Optimism was my best friend. Because what is a life worth living if you lose the game you've been preparing your whole life for?
So, curled into Devilishly Sexy, Hot Blonde Guy's side, I let myself indulge in the delicacy of life, intent of sucking the marrow out of it, seizing the day, and making my life extraordinary because really, we're only here a short time.
Hugging Ross closer, I thought one thought of how I would take on the dare Robin had left me to spend the rest of my ticking time, when I'd have to release everything, especially the blonde boy who had me addicted to him. He was right. Maybe things did happen for a reason.
Challenge accepted, O Captain, My Captain.
A/N: Well that is THE longest thing I've ever written, and again, it didn't turn out how I'd intended it to, but whatever.
I don't know, do you guys think some parts of this was rushed? I do. Maybe because I was rushing to get it done by today, eh I'll probably go back and edit another time ^°^…
I jumbled up the Times and dates and twisted some real facts if you caught any *ahemnewyear'skissahem*
So for those reading Desperate Enough, I will try got update soon, so watch out... I feel kinda bad for leaving you guys where I did... hahaha!
Anywayzzzzz, I'd Love Love LOVE to hear what you guys think, so don't forget to tell me in a review.
Love it? Hate it? Overrate it? Understate it? You tell me!
Fun fact: my penname used to be Carpé Diem Clichés!
*By the way, did anyone get the blanket reference from Dead Poets?
Okay, stay Kool!
-K8ie