As you all can tell, we're getting to the darker part of the story. This is about to get really fucking sad, so if you don't like the topic of cancer, chemo, or the imagery of blood, then please wait until the next chapter that I post for this will be the last one for the night.

All of the Deadpool characters do not belong to me, majority of the story is mine, but all of the actual story line remains with Stan Lee and Marvel~

Chapter Nine

My therapist sat waiting for me to discuss what happened after I got cancer and I'm a nervous wreck. This is the part, the part that has tortured me at night thinking about, how much the illness ruined me and Emily's relationship. I have not spoken about what happened to Emily after I got cancer since the day it happened five years ago. I look up at him, but he has not moved, he's just patiently waiting for me to be ready.

What a nice guy

Yeah, but I still have to tell him about what happened...

I could always just make up something

That wouldn't help in getting better or possibly get over Emily

Is that what I even want?

I don't know actually...

Maybe telling him wouldn't be a bad idea.

I crack my knuckles as I drew out a breath I didn't even know that I was holding in, "Okay," I start as I think back to that horrible time in my life.

The cancer had been so malignant that the doctor suggested getting on chemo as soon as I could. While I was grateful to have Emily around during those sessions, I also hated it.

I never thought she would be in a hospital with me as she held my hand staring down at me while a fucking needle was in my arm.

We would play card games, even though I sucked at them minus war, which is an easy concept. Even though I had only spent roughly two to three months on chemo, I knew my body was rejecting it.

I would wake up in the middle of the night, rush to the bathroom and throw up what felt like my lung.

I remember one night in particular I was in the bathroom throwing up, which was the twelfth time in a two week period. My head was practically touching the surface level of the toilet water with how much I was throwing up, but it was different this time.

What was different about this time was that it wasn't food that I was throwing up like it normally was, it was my blood. I stared down in horror at the toilet bowl, I was confused, was it really my blood or am I just so tired that I'm hallucinating? Sleep drunk, that's a thing right?

I brought my hand up to wipe my mouth only to see my fingers covered in blood. I was so repulsed that I found myself throwing up again for a completely different reason now.

I don't know when she woke up, but I heard Emily calling out to me, "Wade? Baby, you okay?"

I coughed, spitting out a chunk of blood, ew, before calling back to her through the cracked open door, "Yeah, Emily, I'm fine, go back to sleep honey," I lied through my teeth as I clutched my stomach in pain.

God, why does this chemo hate me so much? I leaned my forehead against the cool seat lid, allowing my body to rest before the next wave of vomit inducing pain came.

I hear the door start to squeak and I tensed, I hated when Emily found me like this, I hated her seeing me when this happens, God I just want her to sleep, I hate that she loses sleep because of me.

I held out my hand even though I was weak and felt my energy leaving me, "Emily, please don't,"

It was too late.

She came in and her jaw dropped in shock at the scene. I sighed in agony as I leaned my forehead back on the toilet seat, trying to look away from her.

I hate this.

Why does she have to see me like this?

It's ugly.

It's gross.

I hate it.

Every bit of it.

Emily dropped to her knees and placed her hand on my back as she asked, "Wade, what happened? Are you okay?"

I sighed, coughing again before spitting out another clump of blood. I pushed myself away from the toilet bowl. I leaned against the clear shower door for support as I said, "You should have gone to bed...if you had..."

I looked down at my blood stained hands, "Then you wouldn't have seen me...I'm a fucking mess," I closed my eyes after that, feeling my sweat slide down my temples and making their way to my jaw line. I didn't move, but judging by the silence Emily either was upset or just choosing to ignore me.

I heard Emily shuffle to her feet and a small piece of me hoped that she was going back to sleep, knowing full well that she wasn't.

She came back to the bathroom and turns on the faucet, making me open my eyes out of curiosity. She had the phone pressed against her ear with her shoulder while her hands worked on getting a wash cloth wet.

Who was she calling? And why at a time like this?

"Hello, I need an ambulance,"

What? She called 911? No! Why, Emily, I just want you to go to bed, I don't want you to worry about me.

"No!" I begged as I pulled myself up to my knees, I reached out and grabbed her legs, but she kneeled down to push me back down to where I was. She wiped my mouth clean of the blood with the dripping wash cloth while I tried to push her hands away. I repeated myself over and over again, I begged her to stop, to just end the call, I don't want her to worry.

Emily ignored me as she gave the operator our address, now tossing the wash cloth in the sink. She turned back to me and reached down to stroke my cheek, but I pushed her hand away to lean in to give her a kiss.

Emily was cut off by me, which I guess wasn't an issue because once I was done she just picked up where she had left off. I leaned in more and placed my head on her shoulder, crying as I said, "I'm sorry, I just didn't want you to worry,"

She stopped in the middle of her sentence and leaned down to kiss my forehead, "It's not your fault, Wade, I'm doing this because I love you,"

I never told her, but that night I had wished that she hadn't...there were times that I wish she didn't care about me, that she didn't love me, then she wouldn't feel obligated to take care of me. As awful as that sounds, that's just how I felt...I just wish she didn't.

After I was cleaned up, the doctor checked to see why my body was reacting the way it was. I'm sitting waiting for the doctor to come back while Emily is getting me a bottle of water, the doctors and nurses don't let you eat or drink anything besides water because it could affect the results.

Ugh, I had just thrown up half of my stomach, they really couldn't have given me something, anything to eat?!

Anyway, the doctor, Doctor Hester, came back with a Manila colored folder with my name on it. He set the folder on the counter as he greeted me, "Hello, Mr. Wilson," before he pulled up his rolling chair to sit down in front of me.

He placed his elbows on his knees as he looked up at me, his green eyes looking depressed as he shook his leg anxiously, which was super distracting!

His brown hair was moving back and forth before he sighed, "Wade, the chemo didn't work," he told me bluntly and my heart felt like it stilled.

The chemo...failed.

It didn't work.

My only hope...didn't work.

The doctor kept talking, but I was barely listening, he was telling me how I should stop the chemo, how it was rejecting my body, this and that, but all I heard was static.

That soft static that you heard when the main character in a movie was told devastating news and starts staring into nothing...yeah, I heard that.

After a few minutes of the doctor trying to get me to talk he left, I guess to give me time to myself. I have no clue what I was thinking, how it could have been anything other than my cancer getting worse being the cause of me puking blood.

Honestly, it was pretty foolish of me to think otherwise.

I didn't know how I was going to tell Emily about this, she hadn't come back yet and I didn't have the heart to tell her that the doctor pretty much gave me my death sentence.

How do you explain that to the one you love?

It's impossible.

Well...at least...impossible to say without hurting her in some way.

Before I had enough time to think of a lie, Emily came back in with a small water bottle. She looked exhausted, her hair was in a messy bun, she was wearing one of my old grey beaters with a pair of black shorts.

The bags under her eyes were getting progressively worse in the past few weeks, her once beautiful glowing olive toned skin was now very pale, and her eyes...they used to be so full of life, but now were so dull and cold that when I looked for too long I cringed at the sight of them.

I bit my lip as I looked away from her while she handed me the water bottle. I took it with shaky hands, not knowing how to tell Emily about the bad news the doctor just gave me, but luckily I didn't have to.

Doctor Hester opened the door, making me and Emily look up, and he smiled at her as he politely said, "Oh, hello, Emily, it's good that you're here,"

I had to keep myself from sneering at the bastard for saying that it was good that she was here.

Oh yeah, it's just fan-fucking-tastic that my girlfriend gets to hear that the chemo didn't work!

And it doesn't stop there!

There's no ending my cancer!

How wonderful! Fucking bastard.

I just stared down at my clammy hands as the doctor explained to Emily that the chemo had failed and how the cancer was just getting worse. I looked to my left to see Emily's eyes wide open, but she shook her head as she said,

"No, no, no, there has to be something else,"

Doctor Hester sighed, "Emily, you have to understand-"

"No, you listen to me!" She snapped at him as she got to her feet, shaking her finger in his face, her eyes had a fire in them that I hadn't seen in years and it almost scared me to see her like this.

"This is not the best you can do, I did my research! There's Radiation Therapy, Cryotherapy, Targeted Surgery, you guys just aren't trying!"

Doctor Hester tried to stay calm, he held up his hands in a small surrendering gesture as he spoke to her, "I'm telling you, the cancer is just too malignant at this point, these surgeries and therapy sessions would do more harm and just speed up the cancer,"

"We won't know that until we try, do we?!" She yelled and I couldn't watch it anymore.

I got off of the table and grabbed Emily's jabbing finger as I said, "Let's just go, Emily,"

She shook me off as she screamed, "No! This is not the end for you, Wade, we need to try everything!"

"What's the point, Emily?! I am DYING, that is the beginning and end to this fucked up story of mine, don't you understand?! There is no! Point! To trying anything else anymore, just get over it!"

"There's nothing else? There's no point? Then why? Why did we spend all of this money on your treatment? Why did you agree to this if it's not what you wanted?!" She screamed at me and now was my turn to scream as I pulled my hair out.

"I did it for you! God damn it, I wouldn't have done ANY of this if it were up to me! You think I like seeing you losing sleep over me? Watching me get a needle shoved up my fucking arm, you think I enjoyed any of that?! I told you that you could leave, but you were the one who said no, Emily, you did!"

She stared at me in horror, she had never seen me this enraged before, but I was done...I didn't want her to try anymore, I was tired of her giving more of a shit then I did. I turned to grab my jacket off of the table before walking over to the door. I grabbed the silver knob, but paused to turn and look over at Emily.

Tears were swelling up in her eyes, but I ignored them as I told her coldly, "You should have left me in that bathroom to die...that was your mistake,"

And walked out the door without another glance at her.

My outbursts were inexcusable, I had practically severed any kind of loving relationship I had with Emily and it was only getting worse as the weeks progressed.

I don't know how, nor do I even understand why, but Emily forgave me for what I said to her. She told me that I could do what I wanted and that she would stay with me for whatever decision I chose.

I didn't want to keep doing this to her, I was making her life hell, and she was making mine miserable by staying with me even after everything I did to her...all the pain I caused her, I had spent countless of nights restless, knowing that the most amazing person sleeping next to me was suffering on my behalf.

But nothing was worse than the day that...that everything went to hell, for the lack of a better word.

I had heaved Doctor Hester's words and cut off the chemo treatment, but after a few weeks things got...weird. I started hearing...voices in my head, they would just mock me, constantly laugh at me. I would cover my ears and curl up into a crouch and just rock back and forth, anxiously waiting for them to go away.

It would only last a few minutes, but it always felt longer. Emily would come home and find me in the corner of our living room, rocking back and forth behind the couch.

It became a routine to find me in this position, she would come up behind me and very slowly and softly rub my back, barely speaking, until the voices went away. It had gotten so bad that I would chant as I rocked, "Please go away, leave me alone" in hopes of making them go away, but they never did. They only left when they decided to, I was on their clock, not the other way around.

One day, I was making my way to the bathroom to take a shower, but that's when they started to talk...the voices. I trembled as I opened the door, trying to ignore the voices so I could just take a shower...I just wanted to take a fucking shower!

They didn't let up, if anything they just grew louder and I went back to the old routine. I crouched down by the shower door and started to rock. "Please...leave me alone...leave me alone,"

I don't know how long I had been crouched down there, but it was long enough that I had started to sweat, my body felt weak, I was shaking and the voices were trying their hardest to make me break. To give into the voices was...horrifying to think about, so I would try not to listen.

Suddenly I feel what felt like fire burning my skin. I shook off the hand and just pleaded louder as it kept trying to pat me, gently rub my back, but I didn't want it to. It was as if the voices had manifested into black figures and they were the ones who kept trying to touch me, it frightened me.

No matter how many times I had shaken the voices off, they kept coming back, and the more they tried to touch me, the louder I begged for them to stop. I felt a hand grasp my shoulder and try to pull me, I turned and saw a black figure smiling down at me.

The area where the face should have taken place was only occupied by a black mist that had two smoking yellow eyes to accompany its yellow jack o'lantern like smile. I got to my feet and grabbed hold of it by its throat and pushed it back into our bathroom wall next to the door, but it just held onto my arm and cackled at me, showing that I did no damage.

It scared me even more so I took hold of the figure by its head and smashed it into the small mirror above the sink, but it just grinned more, letting go of my wrist to pull chips of the glass out of its face. My heart started to race as I watched the figure just...just...move on, like I hadn't even touched it. I pulled on the figures shoulder so that it went face down to the bathroom tile, but all it did was roll over as it grasped its stomach, still keeping its eyes on me as it laughed.

I picked up my foot to stomp on the black figures stomach, but its laugh just grew, getting louder, and higher pitched as I kept kicking and stomping. I dropped to my knees and punched its face, but the smile only grew wider and more twisted the more I hit him.

At one point the figure grabbed my wrist and I heard Emily's voice come from it, "Wade! Please, stop!"

It jarred me for a second and made me tremble. I stared down at the mist and saw it laughing at the fact that I had stopped hitting it the minute it used Emily's voice.

I grit my teeth, this thing, these voices...they were using my one weakness on me. I dug my fist into the bastards' skull again, but no result, I got back up and smashed my foot against the figures face and I felt something snap underneath me.

I'm panting, but I felt satisfied because the black figure had gone limp and stopped laughing. I closed my eyes out of exhaustion and rubbed my face down as I put my foot back on the floor, but once I had opened my eyes and looked down my heart stopped.

It wasn't the black figure on my bathroom floor anymore, it was...it was Emily.

She was crying as she clutched her waist and nose, which was bleeding profusely. Her eye sockets were a blood shot red, but quickly turning purple and green. There was...so much blood. I looked down at my hands to see the blood...her blood on my knuckles...and I dropped to my knees and I just...cried.

I cried as I gently placed my hand on her face and waist, but she cringed and even scooted a bit away from me. She had closed her eyes and turned her head away from me as she cried and I bit my bottom lip.

I knew that the cancer was bad...but this is when I knew it had gotten so bad that it had even spread to my brain. I went crazy...and laid hands on the one person I never would want to hurt.

I shut my eyes tightly as I grabbed a fistful of my hair saying, "I'm sorry...I'm so sorry, Emily,"

Once I could collect myself to the best of my ability I had rushed her to the hospital and anxiously sat in the waiting area, thumb nail in between my teeth, dried up tears staining my cheeks, and my knee shaking uncontrollably. I was waiting to see how Emily is doing, but it had been over an hour and a half and I was told nothing. I was nervous, I wondered if she was going to tell the doctors about what actually happened or if she was going to lie.

I hoped she told them the truth, I wanted them to see me as the monster I am, I wanted someone to slap handcuffs on me and take me away from her. I had hurt her, if she forgave me for this...I could never forgive myself for it. I would kill myself before I let her forgive me for this.

"Wade Wilson?"

My head had shot up when my name was called and I saw a nurse holding a clip board, she was decently good looking, I supposed, she was thin, her brown hair was tucked away in a hair tie which made her pale skin stand out along with her blue eyes.

I got to my feet as I made my way to her, my hands in tight clenched fists as I spoke irrationally, "How is she? Is she okay?"

The nurse nods, "She's stable," she said before flipping a page on her clip board to start listing off the damage that I had done to her, "She has three broken ribs, a black eye, broken nose, and lost a lot of blood,"

With each symptom she gave me the heavier my chest felt, it was like my heart was trying to sink as low as possible and was making me want to just fall to the floor all over again. I held back fresh tears as I listened to the medicine that was recommended for Emily's condition.

She told me I could go see her, but I told her I had to make a call first. That was only half a lie since I did call Emily's mother to come pick her up for me, but I had some thinking to do.

I couldn't keep things going like this, I knew that, so I had to take matters into my own hands. Emily wasn't going to stop forgiving me and I was just going to keep hurting her until I died...I thought that the best thing to do would be to get away from her, allow myself distance until I either get a handle on my cancer or I waste away.

It was decided, I pushed off of the wall I was leaning against and tapped on the glass that separated me from the receptionist. She moved her chair to face me head on then asked, "Yes? How can I help you?"

"Does this hospital have a mental health section for military veterans?"

She nodded, "Yes, it does," she said and I nodded, "I would like to admit myself...I need to work out some...mental issues I have," she nodded again as she started typing on the computer, "Name," she said plainly, "Wade Wilson," she typed as I spoke, "Reason for admission?" she asked and I bit my lip, thinking about how to word what I wanted to say. Which was something along the lines of 'I'm going crazy and am starting to beat the shit out of my girlfriend, please get me away from her!'

However, I managed to scramble something together and she typed once again as she asked me when I wanted to be submitted into the mental center, "Now please," I said as she proceeded to hit the print button. Out came a tag with my name on it and as it printed she grabbed my wrist to slap a plastic bracelet on me. She then grabbed the label to place it on the empty space of the bracelet.

"You will be escorted to the mental center now, please give me your phone as you will only be able to use it during recreational time," I nodded as I handed over my phone to her, thanking myself for calling Emily's mom beforehand.

A staff member in blue scrubs started to lead me to the psychiatric area and I heard the doors slide open so I looked to see who was walking in. I didn't expect it to be Emily's mother, she lived quite a ways away and it made my heart sink into the pit of my stomach to see her.

She looked scared, her dirty blonde hair was in a messy braid as she desperately searched around the room, her green eyes landing on mine after a few seconds. I gulped, but just smiled before I waved to her then turned around and walked through the doors leading into the mental center. I heard her call my name, but I ignored her.

If I had to cut my ties with Emily, then I also had to cut my ties with her family, which was honestly the closest thing I had to a family. I had made the decision to leave Emily behind and it needed to be done, this was my future now, uncertainty.

To be Continued~