-Chemotherapy-

"Trust me, you don't want to watch this, partner," Keith warned Natalie. She was perched like a little bird on the armrest of an ugly recliner Keith was sitting in, IVs connected to a port in his chest. If by some huge miracle he got better, Natalie knew there would be a scar there. This chemotherapy was a last-ditch effort that Keith's dad had asked for. Keith was all his father had left, so he agreed to it even though he didn't think it would do one damn bit of good.

"I told you I'd be here for all of it." Natalie laced her fingers with his just as the nurse started the medicine. It stung as it worked its way through Keith's veins and he gritted his teeth. He didn't want Natalie to see him weak, to see him puke.

But that wasn't really up to him and not even five minutes later Natalie moved the bedpan under his chin with lightning speed. Keith had intentionally not eaten that morning, so it was mostly stomach acid and orange juice that burned his throat as it came up. Natalie brushed his hair off his sweat forehead.

"I'm sorry." Keith's hand shook in hers as he suddenly went cold. Natalie leaned in and kissed his cheek. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

He wasn't going to school anymore. He couldn't, now that he was doing chemo. Something as simple as a cold could kill him with a compromised immune system. They had decided to give Keith a new drug in the hopes it would diminish the tumor, but so far it wasn't looking good.

Natalie had insisted on missing school to be with Keith on his first round of chemo, and she was so glad she had. The color had already all drained from his face. Teeth chattering despite the sweat dampening his hair, Keith let his had flop back against the chair.

For the first time since she'd known him, Keith actually looked sick.

"Will your hair fall out?" Natalie asked, blinking back tears. She was trying to keep conversation going, because the somber silence was deafening.

"What, are you afraid I won't be hot anymore?" Keith smirked though his eyes stayed closed. "Would you still do me if I were bald?"

"I'd do you even if you had two heads." Natalie rolled her eyes, even though he couldn't see her. They were quiet for a long time, Keith fighting the urge to throw up some more while Natalie rubbed hearts into the back of his hand with her thumb.

"No," he said. "It won't fall out. What they're giving me isn't all that strong. They're trying to keep me alive, not kill me faster."

They had already talked about it. Natalie knew the odds. Still, and especially when Keith said it, the thought of him dying brought a lump to her throat and a leaden pit to her stomach. She couldn't imagine life without her partner, not with him still here holding her hand. Not when she could count his breaths and feel the soft give of his cheek when she kissed him.

At some point, Keith fell asleep while the drugs pumped through him. Natalie set the bedpan down on a small table beside her, in case she needed to grab it quickly. Then she pulled out the only secret she'd kept from Keith: her journal. For some reason, she didn't want him to know she was chronicling their days.

She never wanted to forget any part of it. So she wrote about the bowling balls, about eating breakfast in a diner before the sunrise and the contradiction of Keith's eyes shining with excitement as purple stains bloomed underneath from their sleepless night. She wrote about laying in the back of a yellow truck, her head so close to his as they looked up to the stars. She wrote about all the things about Keith that made her happy.

But now she was writing much sadder things, like how Keith's body was racked by the chemotherapy but he still made jokes. Or how when you looked at him and took in the rosy cheeks and flirty smile, you'd never know a tumor was branching its way through the crevices of his brain.

"Excuse me." The sound of the nurse's voice makes Natalie jump, even though it's in a whisper. "I need to disconnect the IVs and flush the port for him. And of course, we'll need to wake up our Sleeping Beauty here."

The doctors had connected tubing to the port beneath his skin so that after this first dose here in the hospital, if things looked good, a nurse could do the chemotherapy at his house.

Though he had been sleeping for over an hour, Keith didn't look anything near rested when he opened his bloodshot eyes.

"Can I have some water?" He asked the nurse in a garbled voice. He wasn't allowed to have anything while the chemo was being given.

"Of course you can, darlin'." The nurse was older and spoke to Keith like he was her child. Natalie got the impression they had seen a lot of each other over the years.

Once he was finally cleared to go, Natalie had to help Keith out. She wrapped her arm around his waist, trying to make it seem more natural and less like she was supporting his weight so he wouldn't feel bad, not that she was even sure he had the energy to feel ashamed. He was practically asleep on his feet.

Natalie led him outside to his yellow truck and while they may have been in that yellow truck, it was becoming increasingly obvious they didn't have all that many opportunities anymore. Still, she drove them to his house where she unlocked the door with the house key Keith's father had given her and brought him inside.

Once they were in his bedroom, she helped him pull his shirt over his head, ever careful of the port and its tubing.

"My cyborg," Natalie forced a smile. Keith smiled sleepily and motioned to his jeans while his eyes took a mischievous turn. He had already kicked off his sneakers. Natalie sighed and shook her head before undoing his belt and slipping off his jeans.

But the exhaustion was written across his face despite the wicked look in his eyes, so Natalie only kissed him softly before dressing herself in one of his t-shirts and sliding into bed with him.

Keith rolled over onto his side not occupied by his cyborg parts and Natalie curved her body around his, resting her hand over his heart. Each beat was incredibly precious to her now that she knew they were numbered.

It wasn't until Keith slipped into sleep that Natalie allowed herself to cry quietly, each pulse of his heart burning beneath the palm of her hand.