"Mr. Strider, you're going to be fine. The results came back and you can move back home now," the female doctor says, smiling stiffly at you, her brown eyes lifting up momentarily from the papers she was holding.
You stare at her, unmoving slightly before you decide to comment. "Thank you, but I really would like to stay with John for now," you reply, watching her jump slightly. That's probably the longest sentence she's ever heard from you. She gives you a slightly annoyed look, her brown eyes narrowing minutely. "Mr. Strider, we aren't in need of room currently but if we need to admit a new patient, we may need the area you've been occupying for your stay."
You level your glare at her, even though your gaze is covered. "Well you just said, you aren't in need of the room currently. So I don't see what the problem will be, and if you need it, I'll move my shit out and just stay in a chair."
She raises a manicured hand to pinch the bridge of her nose in frustration, her eyes screwing shut. "Ok, look. We can let you stay a little longer, but not much, ok? Then you'll have to come on visiting hours like everyone else," She opens her brown eyes and stares at you, as if challenging you. And usually, you would accept a challenge, but you decide not to push it, knowing they can kick you out if you are no longer in medical needs.
"Sure," you reply, nodding faintly. You get up, slightly hunched over with your hands tucked in your pocket and walk out.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
When you walk in you find John asleep with a book across his chest. He's been sleeping a lot lately and it's been quite nerve-racking for you. You've watched him grow weaker and weaker. His skin gives off a faint sickly hue now.
The bone marrow didn't take. Because it was from someone else not related, there was a low chance of it working plus his cancer had progressed pretty far by the decision making point. You're pretty angry that they didn't do it sooner, and you've stated that very openly to John. He reassures you that they weren't sure if it would do any good and they didn't want to risk him getting a bad infection.
Which he did get. But he's mostly over that now, of course with some of his immunity gone. When his body was fighting the infection off, it made him much more susceptible to other usually inconsequential strands of colds. You had been terrified to touch him or even breathe on him. He had lightly chuckled at you for that, nose crinkling and buck teeth poking out from behind his lips.
You walk over and lightly sit on the bed, trying not to wake John. You pick the book up off his chest and grab his bunny bookmark to slide in. Flipping it over, you read How to Become a Pranking Master and you smirk at that. John had successfully pulled the classic bucket of water on top of the door trick when you had just gotten out of the shower one day; just a few days after his surgery.
Which was kind of pointless since you had already been wet from the shower.
That stunt had made you make sure to check for his pranks everywhere, much to John's dismay.
You guess John was trying to read up on how to be sneakier to once again prank you.
After you lay the book down on his side table, along with your shades, and kick off your shoes, you scrunch your lanky body on the side of the bed, curling around him to some extent, content to lay there beside him. You look up at his face after your laying down and notice his glasses are still in place. Carefully reaching up, you pluck his off and lay them beside your shades.
What has probably been thirty minutes later, you feel John stir. You crack one fiery eye open. John's face is scrunched up like he's unpleasantly waking up. After another moment, he opens a pair of bleary blue eyes. His eyes widen, suddenly awake when he sees you beside him. "Oh! Sorry I didn't know you were back Dave, you could've woken me up," he says, biting at his bottom lips and squinting his before he starts to pat his face, looking for his glasses.
"I took them off; here," you say, twisting your body so you can reach his glasses and gently putting them on his face. He blinks a few times, his eyes adjusting and he looks at you and grins. "What'd they call you in for?" he asks, curiosity spreading across his face.
"Oh nothing really," you shrug nonchalantly, not wanting to stress John out by the possibility of you having to leave unless you absolutely had to.
He narrows his eyes a little before he kind of just drops it and nuzzles into your chest. You wrap your arms around him tightly and kiss the top of his bald head.
"What are you going to do once I'm gone?" he asks suddenly. He doesn't move, just breathes into your chest. You freeze up, stunned for a second. "Don't think like that John-" "No seriously Dave, it would take a miracle. I just really don't want you to be a lost puppy when I'm gone. Because inside you're just a big adorable puppy," he says, turning his head so his eyes can meet yours. He's grinning like he didn't just talk about being dead.
He pushes up to meet your lips and they move together chastely. After he breaks away, leaving you licking your lips as he once again presses tightly against your chest. You wrap your arms around him and rest your chin against the top of his head.
You don't want to think about life without him, but he's determined to talk about it.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
It's been several days since John tried to last talk to you about his condition. You try to subject change every time, not wanting to acknowledge the plain fact that he does look weaker. One night, when your cuddled up to him in sleep, you feel a light kiss on you're the bottom f you chin, successfully waking you up. You open your eyes slowly, drifting from sleep to find John staring at you.
"Dave, you're going to take care of Casey right?" he asks you, big blue eyes staring at you. You furrow your brows. "I'll help take care of Casey if that's what you mean," you reply. "Dave seriously!" he exclaims, eyes closing in frustration. That's the angriest you've ever seen John. "Ok, ok Egbert! Get your panties out of a twist, yes, yes I will I won't abandon our metaphorical daughter."
He smiles up at you then, eyes opening and his body relaxing. "Good. You can have my stuff too if you want it. I just have this feeling, you know? I can literally feel it in my bones."
You frown in reply but he leans up to kiss the edges of your mouth then your nose. "I couldn't sleep, I was worried. Sorry Dave I didn't mean to wake you. I love you," he smiles, cuddling up to you. You wrap your arms around him and squeeze lightly.
You close your eyes tightly shut, preventing anything even close to tears from escaping your eyes.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
John's in bad shape. He hasn't really gotten up much lately and the nurses come and check on him a lot. Even though you're probably kind of a nuisance still being there, they show you what buttons to push in case of an emergency. You nod, showing you've absorbed the information.
Since he's stopped functioning as much, they've hooked up a monitor to keep him in check. The nurse's who walk in to check on him every now and then always have a sad look on their faces, and you hate them for it.
After they finally stop humming around the room like a beehive, you finally have John time. You both curl up together and talk of things that both of you always wanted to do.
You discuss what good kid names would be and what your imaginary kids would be like. John thinks they'd want to pick up the trade of pranking while you state they'd learn first hand what real strifing is like.
So your kids would probably be hellions.
A few days later, John once again wakes you up. The sun is glowing pink outside with the blooming dawn. "Dave..." he mutters and you shift a bit as you wake up, your body automatically being careful of the wires. John is curled tightly against you and he's shivering slightly.
"Jesus!" you exclaim, wrapping him into you tighter. "You're like a giant fucking ice cube!" You rub your hands back and forth across his skin as he chuckles airily. Then his face sobers up and gets serious again.
"Dave. It's time. I feel myself slipping," he says and you freeze, panic quickly engulfing you.
No. No no no. This couldn't be happening. Not to John. Not to you.
"John, no, you're just cold and tired it's ok," the words slip out of your mouth, tumbling over each other. "Dave, I've known I was going to die. It's ok, it's a part of life and we've both had time to accept it. Especially being here." He states.
"I'll call the nurses, it'll be ok," you reply, almost frantically, starting to turn to reach the button. "No, Dave, don't," he grabs your arm, stopping you. You could easily pull out of his grip but instead your turn back to engulf him in your own embrace.
The constant beeping from the monitor is driving you insane.
The light glints across his skin, showing off just how pale he's become. His eyes are tired, but he smiles up at you as he scoots up and meets your mouth.
At first it's slow, light and tempered, but quickly grows into something feverish and frantic; the monitor quickly picking up tempo. He slides his tongue against your teeth as you quickly reply. Both of you sliding your hands against each other, finding purchase to hold on to. Your hands go to the small of his back and the back of his neck while his goes to the side of your face and your side.
When you finally break apart both of you are panting but he kisses you one last time before settling into the warmth of your body; the monitors pace dying back down to a steady slow rhythm.
"Lay with me please," he asks, sounding scared for the first time since he showed you the pictures of his family. "I'm not going to leave your side Egbert," you reply, trying to sound normal. "Good. Dave?" he asks, his voice sounding tired. "Yeah?" you ask, almost whispering.
"I love you," he states, and you can hear the smile in his voice. "I love you too. Always," you reply, kissing the top of his head.
You feel him drift back into slumber; his body relaxing; the thumps of the monitor slowing down. And eventually, along with the rhythm the monitor is giving out, you feel his breathing slow and eventually stop.
Lying there, you imagine everything is ok while the warmth still clings to his body.
But as it finally sinks in, you let one painful, heart wrenching howl out; tears brimming onto your cheeks, you cry into him, hugging him close. The sound from the monitor blends into the sounds of your sobs. You don't want to ever leave John, but you know that they'll eventually have to get him anyway.
A few minutes later they enter the room to find you weeping into your lost loved one.
-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-
You feel a gloved hand settle on your shoulder. You don't move though, you really don't acknowledge the owner. You just stand there, face downcast, arms crossed over your chest.
"Dave. I know it's hard, but we need to start heading for home. It's almost dark anyway; plus it's going to be a long drive," you hear Bro's voice almost mutter.
But, you really don't want to leave John's side. You stare at the gravestone, the surface shining brightly. Glancing over, you see his father's and his nana's names on the plot right beside John's. You vaguely wonder for a second why neither of them are buried with their spouses.
A cold Washington breeze dances through the little hair you now have and you shiver, closing your red eyes. For some odd reason, it reminds you of John; of how playful and care-free he was.
"I miss him Bro," you choke out, a tear slipping from under your shades. You bring your sleeve covered hand up to rub off the tear. This is probably the most emotional Bro has seen you since you were five.
He pats your shoulder, and then grabs it firmly. You look up at him, wondering if he's going to try to drag you off. But instead, he pulls you into a tight embrace. Your crimson eyes widen in surprise and your body is incredibly stiff. Finally you relax into his grip and awkwardly slide your arms around him. Even though you're tall, Bro is taller so his head is above yours.
Finally he lets go and you shuffle back and look up at him. From this distance, you can vaguely see his eyes and they are painted with worry. "I know you love him kid, we've all loved and lost people. The only thing now is to keep living for both of ya'll," he states, his Texan drawl coming out. You look at your shoes for a second and finally look back over at the grave. You walk over and kneel in front of it, knees digging into the soft brown soil. You idly adjust some flowers that were placed around it. Finally you look up at John's engraved name.
"I'll always love you. I'll be back," you whisper, before pushing yourself up off the ground and turning around to walk towards Bro. He smiles at you, turning also, and leads the way to the truck. When you both are finally strapped in, he revs the engine up and starts to pull away from the lonely graveyard.
'I will see you again,' you think to yourself as you stare at John's grave.
You gaze at his grave until you can't see it anymore.
(Oh god, I had to stop writing this like halfway through the chapter and stay away from it for like a day. Oh gosh. I'm just so sad. I've been thinking of writing a pseudo ending as a bonus, but I am not sure? This is close to what I had planned the entire time.
So in case this is the last of this story and I don't write a pseudo ending
Thank you SO MUCH everyone. All the reviews and encouragements and feeling jams have meant so much! I really didn't think this would turn out as big as it has. Plus I would like all of you to know I don't talk like this anywhere else I post my stories because I don't feel like the people who read it there like it as much?
I will continue to post on fanfiction with my other stories. Right now I have around eleven ideas written down in my book to try to work on, so if you stick with me, I hope you enjoy those. School is about to start for me so my writings might slow down or shorten? I am not sure. Or maybe I'll find more inspiration.
But again thank you all.)