AUGUST

For the rest of July Nero and I had kept up with our little routine and once August hit, our relationship had become stronger and stronger but Nero's health had become weaker and weaker.

The treatment didn't seem to be working as well as before and doctor Brentson had told Nero, me, and his mom that they'd have to up the dosages and radiation.

Which meant less visiting hours for me.

Well, the doctors should know me by now, I'm not a force to reckoned with.

So every night after lights out I'd hide under Nero's bed until the doctors were out of sight and I'd crawl in next to him.

The nights were the worst for the both of us.

Sometimes I'd hold him close, silently crying and praying he'd be alright. Nero would do the same, whispering how much he loved me and how much he was grateful for my presence.

Nero always had a way of soothing my fears. One gentle touch of this finger tips against my cheek and I was sold.

I suppose that's how you know you're in love.

Most people crave affection, attention.

They need lots of sex and physical contact to feel satisfied.

I on the other hand didn't need much from Nero, just a gentle touch here and there and an exchange of 'I love yous' and that was that. Knowing he loved me was enough, I didn't need anything else.

And so the long peaceful nights were when I started to actually understand Passion Island.

It made sense now, when Ingrid said all she needed to survive was James's love. That was me now. I was Ingrid. Funny realization I suppose, realizing you had more in common with girls then you thought. It wasn't too horrible of an epiphany though, considering I knew Nero was nothing like James. He didn't hit on other guys or flirt shamefully in my presence. He loved me and I loved him in return.

I was taking the bullet for him. I wouldn't let him hurt. Even when he looked at me with red, dilated eyes. Even when his arms started to splotch with little bruises. Even when he was throwing up and I was rubbing his back soothingly.

Even when seeing him in pain was causing me to feel the same.

It was the third week of August when I finally broke.

Nero had been out for most of the day and the part that he was awake for; he was crying and puking up blood.

I stayed with him until the doctors came in and shoved me out.

Nero looked up at me pleadingly, like he was saying 'help me Virgil, for the love of god, help me' and I had no idea what to do. I'd never felt this way before, but at that very moment, I felt like…a kid. A eighteen year old kid that had no idea what he was doing and was in way over his head. I couldn't take care of myself let alone Nero.

But I'm trying so, so dam hard. I'm trying because I love him. I'm trying because I know he needs me. He needs me to be strong even when I'm screaming on the inside.

So it came as no surprise that by the time I got home I was sobbing like there was no tomorrow.

I had been letting everything build and build until it was all smashed in to one giant nuclear bomb that was ready to explode.

My first primary emotion was rage. I was mad at god for a bit, letting my demon break things, while I was cursing the omnipresent being for making Nero sick.

Then I was angry at cancer. I thought the entire disease was stupid, uncalled for, cruel. Why couldn't it go away and just drop out of existence?

I just…didn't understand.

So to help me self understand, I threw couple ordainments at the wall.

Which of course made me think of Christmas and god, so I was back to being mad at him again.

"Are you happy god?" Another ordainment was pulverized. "You got what you fuckin wanted! I'm suffering and you're laughing. I'm a homo and I'm already in my own personal hell!" I aimed a couple at my lamp and ended up doing a double whammy.

"Fine. Fuckin ruin my life. It's what you're good at right?" I decided I didn't like my window very much and that went bye bye as well. "Whatever. My life was going to shit anyways. Might as well take away the one good fuckin thing to ever happen to me, right?"

Funny how I expected him to answer.

I broke my mother's favorite vase next (why it was in my room I do not know.) Then I started yelling and thrashing anything in my sight. After the initial rage, I descended into a state of being pissed off and really upset. I was sobbing once again, unable to control my self.

By then, Dante had come home and found my pathetic state. I half expected him to laugh and call me all kinds of names, but to my utmost surprise, he sat down on my bed and wrapped his arms around my shaking frame.

I suppose in the bleakest of times, you can always count on your family (or what's left of it.)

I didn't even have give him any explanation, he just…knew.

So I continued to sob into his shoulder, grateful for every time he shushed me like a mother and cooed my name soothingly.

Two days later I suddenly felt very angry all over again. I then proceeded to look up a specific person online and successfully found his address.

The second Wade Wilson opened his door; I let my demon out and punched him square in the face.

It made me feel much, much better.