Written In The Stars

We'll Be The Stars

Adrena's POV: 

I fell asleep at the guest house, Wesley insisted, I sleep in my own bed tonight. Not that he needed space from me, but he was noticing how triggering all of this was for me because of my mother. It was hard to sleep.  It was my first night away from the hospital and I kept on feeling my worries nagging at my stomach. 

I twisted and turned the whole night, until I awoke to Miranda shaking me awake. 

"Adrena, wake up sweetheart" she said, as I rubbed my eyes and looked over at the clock. it was three in the morning, I turned the lamp on, as I saw her teary eyes in front of me. 

"Miranda, I'm sorry-" I start, trying to apologize for going behind her back and staying at the guest house. 

"Don't be" she interrupted, "that's not important right now, it's time Adrena" she said, as I frowned. 

"Time for what?" I asked, before she gave a look that sent shivers through every part of me. 

It was time for Wesley to die. 

"He's not gonna make it through the night Adrena" she said, as my heart broke.

 I wasn't ready, I wasn't ready to say goodbye. When will I ever be ready? 

"Come on" she said, helping me out of bed, as I was trying not to think about the night my mother died. But it was resurfacing, Miranda handed me some clothes. As we hopped in her car and headed towards the hospital. 

"What am I even gonna say?" I asked, which was a rhetorical question. 

"All we can do.. is be there for him, let him know he's not alone" Miranda said, as she gripped the steering wheel, before taking my hand in hers as she drove. I looked at our hands, as the night my mother passed finally came to the front of my mind. I hadn't allowed it too until now. 

I couldn't sleep that night, I was awake, staring at the ceiling and wondering how much pain my mother was feeling. She was left at the hospital cause Dipper saw how much stress it was putting on me and her, to see her like that. She didn't even look like my mother anymore, the cancer was turning her into something I didn't recognize and it terrified me. Her eyes were yellow, her skin was pale, her breathing was slower and raspier, and she was always tired. 

I wondered if the chemotherapy was going to work, like it had done so for some people. I remember how I use to stay in the waiting room when she was going through her surgeries. The doctors thought they could extract the cancer, but that was before they found out it spread. It was inoperable. And before we knew it, she was terminal. 

Many lucky patients that suffered from several different kinds of cancer, left a few months later, cancer free. I was hoping and wishing that would be my mother. I was even doing research on studies and specific scientific trials for her to try.  And even though my parents saw how much hope I was pouring into researching,  they told me to stop. Not only was I giving them false hope, I was giving myself false hope. It was no use. My door creaked open, and my father had just gotten off the phone with mother's nurse that night. 

He gave me that same look Miranda gave me, and just like that my world started crumbling. We sprinted to the hospital in my dad's SUV. I remember walking slowly to her bedroom in the hospital, trying to think of what I was going to say. Cause that would be the last thing I would have ever said to her. My father held my hand the whole way, as we entered the room.  He went over to her first taking her hand, and kissing her on the forehead and then on her mouth. 

As they rested there foreheads together, and cried in unison.

 She whispered something to him, before she said "I love you" and he nodded.