Chapter 24: Memories

Lance had to go through chemotherapy next… and I'd heard plenty of horror stories about that. Lung cancer was apparently very aggressive, and it liked to spread. I quickly learned why there were so many horror stories.

The chemo was like poison, or rather, it was poison. The hope was that the bad died before the good, the good being my partner and the love of my life.

I watched my incredible, powerful, and strong husband fade before my eyes. I didn't care that Lance grew thin, I didn't care as his hair thinned, I didn't care that his hands were now always cold… I just hated that it was taken from him. I loved him, so much, and it hurt so much to watch this random awful disease leech his life.

The league didn't question me for a second when I closed my gym without a word. Honestly, no one questioned me on a single thing. No one demanded I try to eat more, or leave Lance's side sometimes to shower, or to try and sleep more. Everyone one just left me alone and let me have as much control as I could. They supported silently and with suggestion more so than demand. Even Clair, who I knew wanted to spend time with her brother tried to leave us to each other, keeping her visits short.

Topaz actually ended up staying with us, making friends in Yellow's and Red's daughter, Amber. I'd been a bit agonized over it, too stretched thin with Lance to be much of a guardian. Blue, Green, Yellow, and Red had all told me not to worry. The staff at the house took care of Topaz for me, and honestly, he seemed to enjoy his newfound independence. Apparently, he liked his new school.

"Hey," I whispered softly, wrapped around Lance in our bed, just trying to stay close to him. They tried to keep him home as much as they could, but we spent a fair amount of time in the hospital, too. Imagine the pain being so bad that Lance would have rather died of dehydration than force down water because swallowing hurt so much. "Do you remember that double battle we had with Steven and Wallace?"

Lance chucked gently, wincing. "Yeah. We kicked their asses, too."

We actually had beaten them. I hadn't expected it. That was the very first time the public saw me bend a hyper beam in Lance's signature style. People had gone wild over it.

Unable to dodge the powerful, unrelenting attacks, our opponents had been out of luck. Afterwards the two of them had dragged Lance and me out, treating us to a meal and way too much alcohol. I still remembered that hangover. They'd been an enjoyable couple to talk with, and honestly Lance and I had visited them both a few times over the years.

"What about fucking around with Rayquaza?"

I paled a bit. Oh, that had been something alright. Honestly, we'd more just been trying to see if we could versus if we should. We had managed to find the dragon legendary, and Lance had been able to connect with it… I still got a bit hot and bothered just thinking about my husband standing against a mega evolved legendary, connected with it, golden rings and lines of power decorating his body not unlike the ones decorating Rayquaza.

Apparently, it hadn't minded the battle we gave it. It hadn't killed us at least, that had been a bonus. We'd even offered it some pokeblocks as suggested by one of the Hoenn pokedex holders.

"You were hot," I stated happily, and Lance laughed lightly. His eyes had ever glowed with power!

"Glad you enjoyed me, and not the once in a lifetime legendary pokemon."

"What about the hot springs on Mount Silver?" I hummed softly.

"We're incredibly lucky we were alone," he stated, smiling lovingly at me. Oh, we had gotten into things with each other, the hot water just cool enough we could relax in it for an extended time, but hot enough that it sent pleasant pleasure through your muscles. That had been fun.

"Or just that beautiful field of flowers covered in flabebe in Kalos."

"That was almost the best smell of my life, second to you with cologne on anyway," I stated happily. It'd been amazingly beautiful, too. I'd even snapped a photo on my pokegear. The photo was still hanging in the living room downstairs.

We spent a lot of time reminiscing, about battles we'd had, places we'd made love, people we'd met, dumb fights or arguments we'd had between us, even foods we'd tried in various regions.

"Lance," I stated softly, after we lapsed into silence. "You're not allowed to die. You're not allowed to leave me. I'll never forgive you."

I had more to my threat, but a sob choked up my throat. Lance just gently pulled me close, and the tears wouldn't stop. The threats turned to begging. I'd do anything. I'd give up anything. I would have made a pact with any devil. Please, even just a few more years, even if it wasn't forever, I just needed more time. I hopefully wasn't even halfway through my life, I wasn't ready to lose my husband, my soulmate, my strength, my everything.

But the truth was, Lance might not live. The cancer had spread. His life might only be extended by going though chemo, and the quality might not even be that great.

We had to take it seriously that he might not be with me much longer. We talked about things I'd never wanted to talk about, dying wishes and wills. Of course, his pokemon would be transferred to me. He wanted to be cremated, and he didn't mind what happened to his ashes. He didn't want to be on life support, or resuscitated…

We didn't have to worry about a will, he was my spouse, and he had no one else he'd rather anything go to.

However, I wasn't sure what demon had accepted my offered or what price I'd pay when Lance—after months of nausea, weakness, bruises, being in and out of the hospital, agonizing pain, and fading away—was declared to be in remission.

We had just stood there in shock, and sheer wonder. Honestly, we'd been coming to terms with the worse possible outcome. There was still a chance the cancer would return (an incredibly high chance), there was still a chance that I might not have long left with him after all, but I sure as hell wasn't going to waste that chance.

It took both of us months just to recover from everything, Lance obviously having a more difficult time for obvious reasons. However, we did recover with time. Honestly the first time Lance had had enough energy to make love with me… I hadn't actually lasted much to my embarrassment.

Lance had just been more worried than amused, feeling terrible that he'd been failing me in our intimacy. I just sighed in dismay, honestly, we'd both been struggling mentally, and full-on passionate sex had pretty much been off the table… for a while. But that didn't mean during rare moments of feeling better and a bit frisky we'd completely neglected each other. He'd been more than amazing to me.

Slowly, our lives moved on, my gym reopened, and I took a page out of Green's book and became bare necessity scarce at the gym. It was almost an early retirement, just so I could spend more time with Lance. Truthfully though, life wasn't that much different than before the cancer.

We already had traveled often, gone on dates together, tried new things, and indulged in each other. I always knew Lance would likely pass before me, and I'd cherished almost every memory with him already.

I did become more thankful though. Something as simple as waking up in bed with him, his arms wrapped around me, his steady breath by my ear, his cock twitching against my ass… It was bliss. I was so thankful just having dinner together and him being able to actually eat something and not be in pain or nauseous.

We slowly managed to open back up to the public, visiting our friends again after over a year. We appeared at events with the pokemon association, letting the media get their shots of us. Lance was thinner for sure, it looked like the disease had sucked years off his life, but truthfully, I thought he looked distinguished and sexy regardless. I'd lot a lot of weight myself, and it was more difficult to gain muscle back being older. Truthfully our pokemon were such absolute terrifying beasts it didn't matter as much.

We were more ready to pass the torch than set the benchmark. It was amazing fun resting on my laurels and watching a few of the second generation of pokedex holders grow in terrifying power. It was also amazing watching the second generation live normal lives. They went to school, they dated like dumb teenagers did, they worried about what colleges they might enroll in, or if they wanted to become full time trainers or join the workforce.

I was incredibly surprised when it was Crystal's youngest son, Mica, that ended up joining as a member of my gym when he graduated high school. Honestly, I wanted to hone his skills in particular, excited by the thought of passing off my gym to a pokedex holder's child, his mother from my generation no less. I tried not to play favorites though. Although, I didn't really have to, he was an amazing trainer.

I hummed happily when Lance took a seat next to me on the bleachers, nuzzling absently into his shoulder. "Hey," I greeted softly, like I hadn't spent the entire morning with him.

"Hey," he greeted back, kissing me gently on the temple.

We were heading to Blackthorn together tomorrow to deal with a clan meeting. While I was considering a successor for my gym, Clair and Lance were looking at successors for their clan. Neither and both of them had taken on the roll of clan leader after their grandfather had passed… and since Lance nor Clair had children, it was leaving their bloodline once they both passed.

I was going with him because truthfully, we pretty much never left each other's side. We'd been married for 25 years in the fall, and I'd nearly lost Lance a decade before. His cancer had returned twice, and he'd beaten it again and again. It was like he blatantly refused to let death take him. Even the doctors were amazed. I hoped he'd finally beaten it for good, and that we'd grow old together.

Honestly, it'd been so long that Goomy had even evolved into a goodra. Lance had purposefully never looked at the evolutionary line, wanting to be surprised by the Kalos dragon we'd caught on our honeymoon. He'd been beyond amused when Goomy had evolved into Sliggoo, with his weird snail shell and blind eyes. Honestly, we both thought Goodra was a pretty cool pokemon in the end.

My Hydreigon was something else though. I'd battled against a few legendaries with him and Twister, and they could both hold their own against the creatures of legends. Honestly, most of my pokemon were terrifying powerhouses. To earn a badge, challengers only had to fall a single one of my gym pokemon at this point, I'd even let them pick which one for fun. They could use their entire team. It was a lot of fun.

Lance had even raised a haxorus after being gifted an axew by Iris of Unova, and a garchomp after being gifted a gible from Cynthia. We were truly a terrifying couple, easily able to flawlessly command each other's pokemon.

I didn't have to worry much about being away from my gym, it'd open with at least one of my apprentices hanging around. If a challenger managed to defeat one, they had to defeat one of my official gym trainers, and then they could challenge me when I decided to show up.

"So, when were you going to tell me that you were pain?" I asked casually and Lance froze. "I could tell last night."

"I… It's just some chest pain," he sighed softly.

"That isn't good," I huffed softly. "You need to make an appointment. When did it start?"

"Yesterday," he answered, just averting his gaze.

At least it hadn't been long. I'd noticed his wince when we'd tangled together last night. Honestly, Lance had been downright frisky, so I almost hadn't noticed. Since he was such high risk, Lance had to be screened at least twice a year for any cancer returning. It'd come back twice, but nothing had been as bad at his initial treatment.

I was thankful for every day, but always a bit terrified of what if. I knew if it came back with a vengeance… he likely wouldn't survive. Every ache and pain, cough, discomfort, anything had me worried. I tried not to nag too much, though. It was just a chronic disease, an incredibly scary one, but our lives had been normal enough for the most part minus the lasting effects the chemo left him with.

"I'll make an appointment," he soothed me, nuzzling me lovingly.

I smiled faintly and nodded, thankful.

We ended up going for a walk through the forest together, abandoning the gym as I did. I was an amazing gym leader. At least Lance wasn't having to play the role of champion anymore. He'd be an even shittier champion.

"You're thinking about how I'd be as shitty of a champion as you are as a gym leader!" he accused.

"Guilty. Also, shittier."

We both laughed.

"So, want visit Steven and Wallace maybe next week?"

We hadn't visited them yet this year. Honestly, they'd become really good friends of ours, being a fellow gay male champion couple. Granted, I didn't have the champion title, but I was sure I could go grab it for fun if I wanted to. The other gym leaders were scared of me, especially the young ones like Cinnabar's and Vermillion's gym leaders. Mostly I just had fun though, a common trait amongst the older gym leaders.

Whitney still ruled Goldenrod with an iron fist, even after she and Gold divorced. It'd been honestly completely unexpected. They'd always fought. I'd expected if they were honestly going to divorce that it would have been epic with murder involved. Instead, Gold's youngest daughter, Hazel, had graduated high school and they'd quietly filled out the paperwork and pretty much had amicably settled everything.

He'd admitted they hadn't been in love for… years, maybe ever he softly admitted. He'd stayed for his daughters, and apparently, he and Whitney had pretty much been roommates. We'd become friends over the years again, but there was a clear drawn line in the sand that we both warily watched. My love for Lance was not to be challenged, and I had no desire to spark jealously in my other half. Gold respected that and I appreciated his respect.

"That sounds like a good idea," Lance agreed. "We can get some amazing fruit while we're in Hoenn, too."

Honestly, that evening, Lance made love with me again. I wasn't one to say no, but full on passionate anal was unusual for us at this point quiet so frequently. It was amazing, but I felt… uneasy. It was like Lance was trying to spoil me.

I think a part of him knew.

There was no way he could have really know for sure, but I think it was more in a spiritual sense he knew.

I just sat there in the doctor's office, and everything sounded like it was underwater. I couldn't make out any words, or any sense of the conversation after I heard the word terminal. Lance was sitting beside me, in pain yes, but breathing and perfectly capable of basic human functions like walking and eating.

They expected him to live about two months, but they couldn't say for sure. It was random, maybe he'd have a week, maybe he'd have seven months.

The cancer had come back once again and had finally metastasized. It was in a few places, and honestly, it was pretty bad. Chemo might extend his life a bit, but the quality likely wouldn't be the best. Lance had looked at me apologetically and blatantly refused to touch that poison again.

I glanced up in surprise to see Lance standing in front of me. Tears just kept running down my face. He gently kneeled in front of me, taking my hands. "Come on," he encouraged gently. "Let's go home."

I don't remember the trip home. When I came to, I was just sobbing in his arms. I spent the entire day pretty much inconsolable.

"Do you want to go anywhere?"

"Not really."

"Isn't there anything you want to do?"

"Not really."

I gazed at him in frustration, and he laughed lightly of all things, pulling me close. "Silver, I've done it all. I was blessed with an additional ten years with you, when all I'd begged for was maybe a year. I have lived like I was dying. I have been thankful for every moment. I have lived an amazing life, and I'm so thankful it was with you."

I was thankful for that. But… what about me?

I wasn't sure if I'd voiced the question aloud or if Lance could tell from my eyes. He just held me tight. "I know," he whispered. "I know. I'm so sorry."

But… I couldn't truthfully complain. I too had had an additional ten years with Lance at my side. I too had also enjoyed every moment of it. I was only 49, I likely had anywhere from 20 to 40 years of life left. That was 20 to 40 years without Lance, but that was still better than 30 to 50 years without him.

Mostly… we visited our family and friends so Lance could say goodbye.

We also just quietly stayed together, and I committed to my core memories his every touch, his scent, his every kiss, the temperature of his skin, the last time we were able to have sex, the last time he managed to eat anything... It was beyond painful watching Lance grow weaker and weaker. He ended up in the hospital a few weeks after the diagnosis, and they just made sure he was comfortable. It was a different type of room, meant to be more comfortable for spouses to stay together and spend their last moments.

I spent my days curled beside him, recounting memories when he was awake. Mostly, Lance was asleep. I didn't mind. I just listened to his heartbeat and cherished his warmth. Dying wasn't exactly the peaceful and beautiful image I'd expected. Honestly, I didn't care, because Lance was my everything. I would be there to help care for him always… in sickness and health… 'til death do we part…

"Silver," he stated softly, lovingly stroking my hair that had steaked with white in a few parts. "You should find somewhere for my ashes, somewhere you want to be buried with me."

I nodded. I could do that.

"And don't be scared to love someone else. I know it's going to take time, but please, don't spend the rest of your days alone. You deserve to be held, kissed, and loved."

I smiled weakly. I might not be able to do that.

He kissed me gently and wiped away more tears from my eyes. I was constantly shocked how I could still manage to cry.

Lance only lived a month and week after his diagnosis. He passed in the early morning, just as the sun was starting to rise. I clutched his hand tightly as I gazed at the flat line on the heartrate monitor, awakened by the alarm famous in TV dramas.

I had a feeling he'd held on trying to give me once last restful night of sleep in his arms.

I already missed him more than any words could communicate…