(Thanks for all the likes on this, and watches. I honestly was surprised by that. So yeah, thanks. If you have any suggestions for me feel free to message me (even if it is something you would like for me to try to write?))
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You wake up groggily from unconscious slumbering, to be surrounded by too bright white walls. "What the fuck?" you mutter, your eyes squinting shut, as you start groping for your shades.
"Here," you hear a familiar male voice say as your Aviators slide onto your face. Carefully opening your eyes, you see Bro hovering with a slightly sad look on his face, which looked odd on his usually emotionally blank face. "'Sup? What're we doing in this dump?" you ask calmly, playing it cool. You actually are curious to why you are in hospital gowns. You had been in your apartment, and then went for a strife. And then everything was blank after that.
Bro shifts his weight, the only thing letting on that he's nervous, which makes you nervous and you start to fiddle with some stray strands that stick out of the hospital gown. After a second you stop because Striders don't show their nervousness. "Bro-" you start to say, but the door opens quickly and you snap your head in that direction.
"Well hello Mr. Strider, it's nice to see you awake! Do you care if I call you David?" the doctor asks cheerily. "Just Dave," you mutter, flicking your gaze over him. He's sort of scrawny like you and his brown eyes are looking at some papers on the clipboard. "Well that makes it a bit easier then doesn't it? I don't have to say Mr. Strider twice!" he smiles, trying to get you and Bro to smile, but he just gets two impassive gazes instead.
"Well ok then," he coughs. He looks at you, all business now. "Well. Dave, we have some bad news, but also some good news as well," he says professionally. He looks a bit nervously at Bro but opts in not saying anything. Bro catches the glance and sidles over to your side, placing a protective hand on your shoulder. You jump a bit, not used to Bro being like this.
"Well it turns out Dave, that when and your brother, Mr. Strider, were wrestling he seems to have hit a tender spot in your stomach. Mr. Strider explained that you two wrestle quite a bit, so this reaction from you was unusual. We ran some test to see if there was some new cause," the doctor rambles off professionally. He stops and gathers his breath for a second and then looks straight at you. "It turns out, Dave, that you have a form of stomach cancer. But!" he adds quickly while your eyes grow wide, "It's a very curable cancer. The tumor is malignant but it's not very far progressed. It hasn't spread to other parts of your body yet. You will have to have some chemo because of the location of the tumor, but you should be out of here at most in a few months."
You stare at the doctor for a few moments in disbelief. "Is this some kind of sick joke Bro, because if it is, it's not fucking funny," you say, swinging your gaze to Bro. Bro shakes his head slightly. "I wish it was a joke little bro, but… it's not."
"Well, if you two will follow me, we have a room set up for Dave for his stay with us."
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So you had gotten up, and the Bro had draped some kind of robe around you. All the tender shit was really getting at you, because come on, Bro was never tender with you.
Then you both had followed the doctor to a room with sickly light walls as well, but it had a window looking out onto a garden with some trees and walkways running through them. The room had no other occupants so you had it all to yourself. After a while, the doctor left, and you and Bro sat in a silence which was not uncommon to the two of you.
"Dave, I'm sorry…" Bro said, finally breaking the silence. You look over at him. "Pfft, what for? You didn't inject cancer in me did you?" you ask sarcastically, keeping your face carefully expressionless. "I mean…no but…I don't know Dave, fuck, I literally fucking kicked you in the cancer. And-" you interject before he can continue with his apology. "Look, Bro. It's fine. The doctor even said that it's not even that serious. I guess I might lose a little bit of hair but hey anything looks good on a Strider, so everything will be good. Maybe you can use a break from me, get some hot chicks or something." You start to look around nervously behind your shades. All the emotional talk was making you antsy since Bro and you never actually talked that much.
Bro smirked a bit at that, running a hand through his blond hair under his cap. His ironic anime shades pointed at the ground, his orange irises seemingly staring at the tiles. "Ok kiddo, I guess I'll get out of your hair. Don't wreck their shit or anything though." He gets up and heads towards you, encasing your sickly ass in a very brotherly hug. After stiffening up a bit, you relax and hug him back.
Since then, all you had done was get everything situated. Bro came and visited every now and then but besides that you would listen to your iPod and work on some long ago abandoned comics from your childhood.
When you had started the chemo, you thought all the shit they showed on TV was over exaggerated…until the night when you threw up half your body weight until you were shaking uncontrollably. You idly wondered when your hair would start falling out.
So that was how you got to this point, sitting in your room with your head lulled back. And now you would have to share the room with someone else and are not in the least bit thrilled about this fact.
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You must have fallen asleep because the next thing you hear is rustling and people talking.
"Thanks!" you hear a bubbly voice say loudly.
Great, the new roommate was apparently as loud as they fucking came.
You hear a pair of footsteps with the sound of rolling behind them. You then hear unzipping and contents being quietly shuffled around. You crack open your eyes behind your shades and gather in what your roommate looks like.
He has raven black hair that's splayed messily around his head and pure blue eyes. He also has his bottom lip tucked under his teeth, making the buckteeth stick out like a sore thumb. He has a blue hoodie on and he gets a look of glee on his face as he successfully finds whatever he was looking for. Which is a book. The other man goes and sits on his bed and sighs a bit, looking out the window.
You sit there for a minute, deciding what to do and finally decide to hell with it, he was going to be in here regardless, might as well know his name. "Yo," you say quietly, but it reverberates through the room and the other male jumps.
"Oh! Hello, I didn't know you were up! Did I wake you up? I'm sorry if I did," he says in a torrent of words rushing out. You sit there for a second and finally say, "It's cool. Sleeping is for losers anyway." Somehow that was funny because the blue eyed male is now laughing. "Anyway," you continue, "My name is Dave Strider. Since we are roommates and all might as well get the pleasantries out of the way."
"I'm John Egbert!" John says happily, a toothy grin emerging on his face.
(Ok, well I finally got John in there. And I know that you usually can't figure cancer out that quickly but let's just pretend Dave was out for quite a while…)