THE EDGE ➶ JAMES FRANCO✔️

8. FIGHTING

After the Fight by Jars of Clay

"But after the fight is over, will I talk so tough? Will I run for cover after the gloves come off? Yeah, when the black eye lingers, will I stand my ground; return my fists to fingers after the final round?"

~~~

Nights went on as they had before. She ended up moving in with him permanently, along with Gatsby of course, and there was never a need for her own room.

Three years later, Allison finds herself sitting in his leather-seated Cadillac, drinking a Budweiser, and looking out the dark window at the innumerable stars.

"Would you marry me?" She whispers.

He doesn't look at her. "You don't want me."

"Why do you say that?"

"I push people away, especially when I'm up for a new role."

She places the bottle on her lap and looks over at him. "That's something I'm willing to deal with, James."

"I don't want you to have to deal with it. I shouldn't be that way, but if I want to do a good job-"

She cuts him off by putting a single finger on his smooth lips. "You didn't answer my question. Would you marry me?"

"I would."

She grins, but a sudden coughing fit prevents her from replying.
"You okay?" He asks, rubbing her back.

She can't breathe. She wants to say something, but her airways are blocked. She senses a hot, fuzzy feeling in her lungs, as if they were slowly being set on fire. She guesses he knows she can't breathe because he takes one look at her face, then rockets down the street towards the hospital.

~~~

As soon as she can breathe properly again, Allison is bombarded with questions from a nurse.

Do you want to talk? No. Does it hurt to talk? Yes. Did you have asthma as a child? No. Have you had coughing fits recently? Yes. Were you eating or drinking at the time of your recent fit? Yes. Did you choke? No. Can I run a few tests? Sure.

~~~

Seeing as the tests wouldn't be in until tomorrow, the nurse told the pair that Allison was admitted to stay all night.

Clearly worn out, James slowly falls asleep on the small couch, his feet dangling off the armrest. She grins at his heavy snoring and watches as his chest rises and falls with each breath he takes.

As soon as she begins to fall asleep, he releases a soft groan. She ignores it and focuses on clearing her mind. Quickly, the noises progress and become very loud. She opens her eyes when the couch creaks and sees him thrashing about.

Against her weary legs' will, she gets up and makes her way over towards him. When she reaches him, she observes that his face is red and sweaty, his hair slicked back with perspiration. Shaking him, she calls out his name, trying to bring him out of whatever he's experiencing. The room seems to get darker and ominous shadows appear as time passes.

"James!" She finally shouts.

His eyelids slowly open and he calms down.

"Allie," he whispers as his shaky hands caress her face. "You're okay. You're okay, Allie, you're okay-"

"What are you talking about?" She shakes her head, not understanding.

He rubs his red eyes with shaky hands. "I lost you. I lost you to him. He took you and-" he leans back and she gently wipes the tears from his face.

God knows who he meant by him.

"James, honey, it was only a dream. It's okay." She takes hold of his head, repeatedly running a finger slowly down his cheeks and nose soothingly. "I wouldn't leave you again."

"I don't deserve you," he says through bitter tears.

"I don't deserve you either."

~~~

At one 'o clock sharp the next afternoon, a nurse comes into Allison's room to find her still sleeping and James reading a script. She shakes thhe blonde's shoulder until she awakens.

"Bad news, honey." The nurse sighs heavily and looks deep into her patient's bright green eyes. "You got the cancer." Her southern drawl makes it seem surreal.

Allison feels as though her heart stops beating and she waits for the bedside heart monitor to flatline.

"I- what?"

Cancer? This can't be happening. What did I do to deserve cancer?

"Lung cancer, honey. Luckily though, it's very early. We can treat it now and hopefully it won't come back for a while."

A dumbfounded James speaks up.

"Will it affect her career?" He notices the questioning look on the nurse's face. "She's- she's a singer. She just recorded her first album. I-" He stops short and looks over at Allison, tears in his eyes.

The nurse is silent for a moment. "I'll have to ask her doctor, but there's a very high chance it will make her voice sound raspy and cause her a lot of pain until we can get it under control."

A suffocating silence fills the room.

"Is she going to die?" James asks.

Hesitantly, she answers him. "If we don't get to it in time, then, yes, from the platelet count, it looks like it will eventually kill her."

Then she hands Allison a pamphlet on the benefits of chemotherapy treatments, apologizes, and leaves the room.

"I can't believe it," she remarks.

"I know, A," James says calmly, walking over to sit in the green armchair by her bed.

"I have cancer, James! Cancer!"

"I know it looks bad right now, but I can get you some special treatments and you'll be in and out before you know it." He offers a small grin, but she meets it with a frown.

"I'm not letting you pay for this. I need to be independent."

"I want to take care of you."

"I can take care of myself."

"Not right now, you can't. Get some sleep and we'll figure it out later." He kisses her forehead and she wishes she hadn't been so rude.

He gives her a lopsided smile. "Keep fighting, okay?"

~~~

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