Turn away,
If you could get me a drink
Of water 'cause my lips are chapped and faded
Call my aunt Marie
Help her gather all my things
And bury me in all my favourite colours,
My sisters and my brothers, still,
I will not kiss you,
'Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you.
Now turn away,
'Cause I'm awful just to see
'Cause all my hairs abandoned all my body,
Oh, my agony,
Know that I will never marry,
Baby, I'm just soggy from the chemo
But counting down the days to go
It just ain't living
And I just hope you know
That if you say
Goodbye today
I'd ask you to be true
'Cause the hardest part of this is leaving you
_________ - My Chemical Romance
Luna cradled the mug of rapidly cooling tea in one hand, holding the warmth close to her chest in an attempt to get rid of the ache that lingered there. The other hand was covering her eyes, she hoped, as she hid her face from view, that the tears streaming down her pale face would eventually dry up and stop. Her prayers hadn't been answered as she still felt the tears and the deep sorrow that founded them.
She had knocked on the door to wake her best friend up, it was nearing ten thirty and it was uncommon for him to sleep past nine at the latest. She slowly turned the door knob, giving him the chance to call out if he were in the middle of changing. No call was given. When she finally peeked into the room, Harry was sat with his head propped against the headboard with his eyes closed and his fists clench.
"Harry?" Luna called in a worried tone.
"Just a migraine Lu, didn't get much sleep. I'll be fi-" Harry's words were cut off as a great hacking cough shivered throughout his body, bringing goose bumps to his adopted sister's skin.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," He murmured, almost too silent for her to hear, "I'll just get up now." And without a second thought Harry opened his eyes a sliver and peeked out at his bedroom.
Luna watched her brother drag himself from his bed; his usually strong decisive movement were weak and slow, full of fatigue. As he stood up, it was on shaky legs and his body quivered with the effort of keeping himself upright. With his eyes barely open and his body unable to support him Harry forced himself to walk to the bathroom. Luna observed him as though she was being held back by impenetrable glass. Her fingers itched to go catch him before he fell. To hold him close and usher him back to bed where he could rest. Harry wouldn't have allowed it. His pride was something he valued, above nearly everything else. He had to almost drag himself through to the bathroom and from the doorway Luna could hear him sitting heavily down on the toilet lid and taking a deep breath.
Without a second thought she turned and she ran.
That's how she found herself here. Sat on the old porch of Harry's house, wearing an overly large Gryffindor t-shirt and a Ravenclaw jumper while holding a cup of tea.
She thought that her heart was breaking in her chest. She had never seen Harry look so defeated in her whole life. It was like his spirit had been sucked out of him as he slept, leaving the empty shell of this deathly sick person. His normally bright, cheerful green eyes were full of the pain of many years; Luna was faintly reminded of an old man who lived in her old village, whose eyes were pain filled from his rheumatism and frequent strokes.
This connection only made Luna's eyes water even more.
How can the pain of an eighty year old man whose wife had died years before, whose joints seized and locked in place for long amounts of time, who was paralysed in the left side of his face. Who was alone. Unloved. Unwanted. How can a seventeen year old boy relate to this pain? How can a seventeen year old boy possibly understand that he must soon give his life for a whole country maybe even the whole world?
But Luna saw it. She saw the pain swirling about in green depths mixed with a resigned feeling. She saw the clammy, pale skin which had broken out in a cold sweat. Dark purple smudges under his eyes, indicating his lack of sleep. His shaking limbs from an unknown chill, as well as the effort of holding himself up. A hacking cough that wracked his whole body with shakes that lasted for minutes after the cough cleared. Luna saw it all. Her usual chirpy, cheerful, loving brother and best friend had been replaced by a man who has known pain and loss ever since he was a baby.
And she cried. Her tears fell in droplets from her chin to soak into the Ravenclaw jumper, some even landed in her cold tea, making the liquid ripple out from where the droplet broke the surface. She sniffed, unwilling to stand up and find a tissue yet not wanting to seem disgusting and wipe her nose with her hand or jumper.
Luna knew that she had to be strong. She had to be a Gryffindor for her brother, strong and brave. The young Ravenclaw knew that she would never replace Hermione, the brave Gryffindor who had thrown herself into the path of an unknown curse to save a group of helpless, defenceless children. Luna knew that if she were Hermione then she wouldn't have been able to sit in that hospital bed in constant pain just waiting for death, all the while staying with her best friend as he cried into her shoulder. She couldn't erase some of the pain Harry had gone through. As much as she wanted to. She wished that she could go back in time and prevent Harry from becoming friends with The Weasley, whose betrayal had hurt Harry more then the Gryffindor cared to say.
Luna wished that it had been her; it was a wish only uttered during the dead of night and in her constant stream of prayers to which ever God was listening. When she was living by herself, during the night, her anguished cries were the only things that could be heard. Her pleading to God and cursing to Fate.
Her brother was dying.
There was nothing she could do.
Nothing she could say.
Whenever it was mentioned to Harry his only words would be, 'As long as I kill him, before this kills me'. And Luna had to accept it. She had to live with her best friend day after day, watching his health; strength and magic deteriorate before her eyes. Watching as the sparkle from his beautiful eyes was lost. His Gryffindor spirit and will to live chipped to pieces with every hour, every day and every week that went by.
"Luna?" The smooth timid voice pulled her from her sorrow like a slap in the face.
"Edward, hi," She tried to rid her face from all traces of tears but she knew it was useless, her eyes would be red and puffy and her cheeks flushed.
"Luna, are you okay?" The Vampire asked, concerned for the young woman's health, "Do you need anything?" He asked. Deeply concerned for her well being.
"No, no I'm fine."
"Is this..." He stopped to consider his question once more before saying it out loud, "Luna, is this about Harry?" At those words, she tried to deny by shaking her head forcefully but the young Vampire wasn't fooled because he could smell the salty tang of the tears that ran down her face.
"Ask him. I can't tell you."
"Okay." And with one last light squeeze to her shoulder the Vamp had disappeared into the house and up to Harry's room.
Only minutes later (which gave Luna the time to calm time and wipe her tears away with her jumper), the teenager re-appeared again, this time he was holding a scowling Harry in his arms. Harry had his arms crossed over his chest and obviously didn't like the fact that he was being carried like a woman down to his boyfriends car.
"Eddie, put me down." Harry said in a tired voice which lacked its usual energy and seduction whenever he used the vampire's ridiculous nickname.
"No. I'm taking you to Carlisle."
"Edward, I know what's wrong with me." Harry's voice sounded weary, as though he had been talking for hours and his voice and his jaw was tired.
"I know you do. That's why I'm worried so much that you won't get treated." Edward looked back at the dumbfounded Blonde sat on the porch, "Are you coming Luna." She quickly grabbed the house keys from the bowl just inside the door before locking up the house and following her brother and his mate back to the Silver Volvo.
-----
"I wish you hadn't brought me here Edward." Harry murmured, he was sat propped up on a pile of brand new pillows on top of a brand new bed.
"I just want you to get better." The Vampire replied, turning to his mate. Harry pressed his forehead onto Edward's cool neck in a hopeless attempt to fend off yet another hot flash.
"I'm not going to get better Eddie." The brunette admitted in a small voice that conveyed the hopelessness that he felt.
"Won't you even try?"
Harry sighed and wrapped his hand around a bicep he moved as though he were in a bath full of treacle. He didn't know how he could help the Vampire understand or even make him understand.
"Do you remember the feeling you had, when you first realised that killing those men was an evil, twisted thing to do?" Harry whispered into the silence that blanketed the room.
"I do." Edward murmured back as he closed his eyes to block out his memories of those years in his long life.
"That hopelessness and resigned feeling because you knew that it was wrong. The hurt you felt for your family. The feeling of being so trapped in your own web of lies and sins that you know that you can't possibly be around somebody so good and untainted like Carlisle and Esme." Harry took a deep breath in the middle of his rant before finishing in a slightly calmer tone that was laced with the misery of his life, "But you know that no matter what you've done, no matter how many you've killed or led to death that they will always welcome you back with loving arms and a kiss on the forehead."
Edward didn't answer; he didn't think he could even if he had tried. Harry's attempt at helping him understand the reasons behind his lack of treatment had sent millions of thoughts and feelings cantering through his mind at an impossible pace. He wished Jasper was in the room. There was nothing else the Vampire could do but wrap his arms around his mate and cradle the fragile body in his arms.
"Will you tell me?" He eventually asked when his voice had decided to work again. Harry's eyes opened instantly and his green eyes were drawn to the light Topaz which hovered over him. Harry's lips quivered with the outright intention on saying no. Of course the Vamp would accept it but Harry couldn't help but feel the obligation he had to his dominant mate. How was he to tell Edward that in a few months that he had to go back to England without the Vampire knowing why? He knew of the war. He knew of magic. But he didn't know that Harry never planned on surviving.
"I-" Harry broke off to take a deep breath and to gain his strength by holding onto his boyfriend tightly, "I will."
"It was...barely a year ago, just eleven months actually. My very best friend had been hit with an unknown curse and she was in the hospital. She had urged me to go find something to eat since I hadn't left her side in days. As I walked down one of the corridors by my friend's room I saw two people, a man and a woman, standing outside a hospital door crying. This wasn't an unusual thing; we were in the middle of a war after all." Edward nodded in understanding as Harry's gaze left his own.
"Harry...you don't have to-"
"No. No I want to. Just give me a second." Harry swallowed before continuing.
"They were stood there crying but when they saw me walking past they stopped me. They asked me to go into the hospital room and say hello to their eight year old daughter, usually I say no to requests like that but I couldn't help myself. Her parents told me that she had Cancer. It had worked its way into her lymphatic glands and she would die...within the week." Harry paused again to sift through his memories, trying to find the words he could use.
"She was the first person the Healers had ever had to treat. Apparently the magic in a witches or wizards bloodstream kills any foreign cells which leads to the impossibility of cancer developing. But, her mother was muggle-born and her father a pureblood. The cells had evolved to her magic and had slowly spread. The healers found it too late. The best they could do was send her though Chemotherapy and Radiotherapy to try and give her longer to live." Harry's hands flexed around the bicep he hadn't realised he was still holding.
"Her name was Emma Leigh. She was an intelligent, calm, beautiful, little girl. All I could think of was how she was going to die. I couldn't handle it. I reached out and pressed my hand to her forehead..."
A/N – AHHHH CLIFFHANGER. lol. I hope this quick update makes up for the amount of time it took me to write it .
This chapter is supposed to be really sad but I dunno if it is or not. What's your opinion?
What happened? What did Harry do? What happened to Emma????
Many thanks to all my Reviewers. Every one I get is read and appreciated!!
Special thanks to Ema for letting me use your name (Emaleigh Pightling).
Happy reading
-E.V.S.
P.S. I didn't name the MCR song purposefully, but it is actually called Cancer from their Album The Black Parade.