Part 2/4
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Requested by:
@kuarmaslover123
*TW*
• Cancer
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YOU WANNA KNOW WHAT I REALLY DON'T LIKE? WHEN I'M READING A WATTPAD BOOK AND FINISH A CHAPTER AND AS I FLICK THROUGH TO GET TO THE NEXT PART I'M CONFRONTED WITH 'A Cure For Wellness' AD! THAT NAKED LADY IN A BATHTUB OF EELS/BIG ASS LEECHES SCARED THE BEJEEBERS OUT OF ME!
Ashton:
Sometimes routine tests had less than routine results. Sometimes things take a turn for the worst. Sometimes remission doesn't last forever. It's always shocking to hear.
"Y/N, look at me," your mother sighed, rubbing up and down you back.
You tried to shake off the shock of the news your doctor just gave you, but all that did was make room for dread. Everything had just come back together. Your hair had grown all the way back, you were in shape again, you were back in school, and Ashton was home. Why did it all have to fall apart now?
You gulped, looking in her eyes like she had requested. With a comforting smile she held you close, "it'll all be okay, you've done it once, you can do it again."
You broke down. You had done it once, but that didn't mean anything. You had been miserable and had nearly died several times the last time, you didn't want it again.
"It's in your bones this time, but we caught it early, hopefully with an aggressive treatment we can work towar..."
You tuned out your doctor as she talked about the inevitable, "treatments." Radiation, drugs, and pain. All for what? So that you could go back into remission and then have to do it all over again in another two years? Did you want all of that? Did you have a choice?
You thought about what you had gone through last time. You were always tired, could barely hold down food, and was constantly covered in random bruises. All of that was from the chemo, and now they wanted you to do it again. To "save your life" only you weren't sure you wanted saving. You didn't really know if you wanted to go through all of that pain and suffering over and over and over again. Maybe it'd just be better to let the disease run its course. Maybe it'd be better to just die, end your pain, and your suffering.
You didn't tell your mother or the doctor yet, you just numbly nodded through the meeting while they chattered on about schedules, insurance, and what your chances were with various treatments. The doctor seemed mildly optimistic, and you knew that your mother would fight for every second of your miserable life.
You couldn't be more relived when the meeting was over and the two of you walked out of the doctors office.
"Wow," she murmured as the two of you stepped out into the open air, "that was a lot."
"Mhm," you were numb, and probably in shock. You had no doubt that she was too, but unlike you she snapped out of it quickly. She tucked the manila folder full of your schedules, test results, and treatments under her arm, and pulled out her phone.
"I'm going to call Ashton," she said to you as you climbed in the passengers seat.
You frowned, no doubt that he'd be devastated, probably more than you. You'd already given up, but Ashton always had hope even in the worst situations. You knew how dangerous hope could be for a cancer kid so you'd left it behind a long time ago. Ashton didn't seem to understand why he didn't understand the danger your life was constantly in, that statistically the odds weren't in your favor. That he should give up too.
The car ride was silent except for the conversation between your mother and brother. You occasionally caught bits and pieces of what he was saying as the two of them talked.
"...Mom!...up?" You leaned back and tried not to listen, you didn't want to hear it.
"Sweetie we need to talk," your mother said softly, in her most maternal and gentle voice.
"...about..." was all you heard from Ashton.
"Y/N and I just got back from the oncologists office," she sighed for a moment and didn't complete her thought.
You could hear the concern in your brother's tone, "Mum?..."
You really tried to stop, you didn't want to hear it, you didn't want to have to listen to your brother's grief, or all of the inevitable questions. You just wanted to go home and curl up in your bed. You wanted somewhere familiar, warm, and comfortable.
Luckily for you, your mother didn't seem keen on breaking the news to Ashton over the phone anyway. "Why don't you come over Ashton? We'll talk about it at home," she finally said.
Your stomach flipped. You could definitely avoid the conversation, but you couldn't avoid Ashton. You had no doubt that he'd want to talk to you. Would you be able to tell him that you didn't want the treatment? Was it better to lie?
"Yes, you can bring them along too," Anne Marie nodded. Before she could say anything else the car was in the driveway and you were rushing out of the car. You knew that Ashton, and now apparently the boys, would be there as quickly as humanly possible. You wanted, no needed, to make yourself scarce.
So you grabbed the spare key from under the doormat and opened the door. You sprinted inside before your mother was even out of the car, and ran up to your room. You shut your door, and dove into your waiting bed. Your life had changed so much since you had last been in the bed that morning. But your bed was just as welcoming as ever. You kicked off your shoes and burrowed down under the blankets. In the dark, warm, space between your blankets and sheets you broke down. It had come back, and you were going to die. You were sure of it. So you pulled a pillow down from the front of the bed, buried your head in it, and cried. You cried for yourself, for your friends, and for your family. Nobody deserved to die, or watch someone close to them die.
You heard the door open a few moments later when your mother made it in the door. She knew you well enough to leave you be for a little while. You needed some alone time to process your grief.
Maybe half an hour after that the door opened again. You couldn't be sure as time passes strangely when hiding in bed. You heard the loud footsteps of your brother and friends, along with their deep voices. Well, deep up until Ashton let loose a high-pitched giggle.
"Boys, why don't we come talk," you could hear your mother beckoning them further into the house. But their footsteps faded quickly and you had no idea what was going on. It wouldn't be long now.
Sure enough, five minutes in blanket time later you heard someone sprinting your way. Down the hall, up the stairs, right to your door.
"Y/N!" Ashton sounded like he was already in tears, "Y/N, I want to talk to you!"
You sighed and cuddled your blankets closer. You didn't move to allow your head to poke out the top, so you had to yell loudly. "COME IN!" Your voice sounded and felt like you had been violently crying for almost an hour.
"Oh Y/N," you heard your door fly open and Ashton's footsteps approach the bed. Then the entire mattress dipped down when he sat down on the edge, near where your head would be if it was visible. "It'll be okay, you can beat this," he ran a hand down your back.
You had to tell him. In that moment you couldn't lie to such a raw and vulnerable Ashton.
"No, I'm not doing it," you said quietly.
He froze, "doing what?" You heard his voice shake a little.
"The treatments, all of it, I'm not doing it again," you repeated yourself.
"Y/N-" Ashton was cut off by the sound of his bandmates running up to meet the two of you.
"I'm so sorry Y/N," Calum sniffled from the other side of the room.
"We're all here for you," Luke agreed.
They moved in closer and Michael spoke up. "Ashton? What's going on?"
Your brother must have had an absolutely devastated look on his face for Michael to be able to tell the difference between his "Y/N's cancer came back," expression and his, "Y/N doesn't want to fight it" expression.
"I-" he couldn't say it, so you decided to do it for him.
"I'm not doing the treatment plan, it's not worth it," you said.
The room was silent as they all took in your words. You had officially given up.
"But... you'll die?" Calum croaked out.
"Yeah," you breathed out, "I will."
"Why?" Michael said, you could hear the shock in his voice.
"It's terrible to watch and worse to go through, and it didn't even work," you said angrily.
"Yes it did," Luke was quick to correct you, "you are- were in remission."
"Exactly, I'm back to square one," you felt a lump forming in your throat, "and I don't want to do it again."
Ashton finally rejoined the conversation. He moved his frozen hand up to the top of your blankets and peeled them off of you. You were suddenly again exposed to the harsh realities of life including bright lights. You had to blink rapidly to let your eyes adjust. When your vision finally cleared you were confronted by four deeply sad boys. "Y/N, I know that you're scared but-" Ashton used the same tone with you that your mother had used on him earlier.
"I'm not scared Ashton, I'm ready to go, don't make me do it, please, I can't. Not again," your vision again blurred as your eyes filled themselves with tears.
"I think that you are scared," he said soothingly, "scared that you went through all of your original treatments for nothing, and that if you do it all again it'll just come back."
You sniffled a little and stared down at your sock-covered feet. You didn't want him to be right because you didn't want to do it again. You weren't ready.
"It's not fair," you croaked, voice cracking on the tears getting ready to flow.
"No, it's not, but giving up before you can even try isn't the way to look at things," Ashton pulled you closer to him so that your head was resting on his muscular chest. You listened to the rhythmic beating of his heart and tried to calm down.
"Y/N, I can't tell you if it will come back again or not, but I want you to not even think about it. Live in the now, not in the possible," he said.
You finally nodded. Ashton was right, no matter how much you didn't like it life wasn't fair, and you shouldn't just give up because of it. You had to give yourself a fighting chance.
"We'll be with you every step of the way," Luke promised. He was met with many nodding heads and murmurs of agreements.
"Thank you."
...
Remission the second time around. You had again lost all of your hard-fought muscle, and your beautiful hair, but this time you walked away with something that you had previously lost; your spirit. Cancer didn't beat you, you beat cancer. It wasn't an easy journey, it was long and hard-fought. But Ashton, Luke, Michael, and Calum were always there for you. There when you shaved your head, when you couldn't hold down food, and when all you wanted to do was sleep. They didn't leave you, and their deep belief in your ability to win, helped you do just that. You had been broken, but now you were whole. (safety pinned back together)
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When you can hear your dad listening to Halsey, Fall out Boy, and TØP from the other room and you realize he's more emo than you 😂