Corpse Husband One-shots

The Pain We Share ⨀ *

Author: https://thefanficmonster.tumblr.com/

Corpse Husband x Reader with Fibromyalgia (Female)

Warning: Health Issues/Complications, Swearing, Angst

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Fluff

Summary: When we go through something painful, we'd never wish it upon anyone, especially not a loved one. Corpse and his girlfriend, however are a different story. Their struggles brought them together and from the first moment, they felt a connection, a bond between them. This relationship costs them the price of watching each other suffer the same way they each do - both of them unable to help one another yet they both know how much it hurts and oh how much they could take the pain away. But, some wishes can sadly never be fulfilled.

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It's the same routine every morning - doesn't matter if I'm opening my eyes after a brief two-three hour sleep or I haven't had any shuteye all night - I just lay here in this bed and wait, dreading the pain that might arise out of nowhere. Between the pain and numbness, I don't know which I prefer. Neither is the answer I'd go with without hesitation, but this illness doesn't ask nor does it give a shit what answer I give. What I prefer. I prefer to be ok. Not suffering in unbearable pain or frustrating numbness and the inability to move my limbs. I'd also like to sleep. Ha, imagine just closing your eyes and falling asleep, then waking up and getting your day started, fresh and ready for what it has to throw at you. Wonder what that's like.

No, for me it's always a gamble between not falling asleep at all or having a tiny nap that I wake up from feeling shittier than I did when I fell asleep. Waking up and anticipating a painful attack is one thing, but staying up all night, on-edge of whenever even a slight tingle runs through my nerves. This constant state of expecting the worst and being happy when I get only the bad is emotionally and mentally exhausting. I sometimes feel anger trapped in me for no reason and I can't even find the energy in me to let it out. Who am I angry at? This illness. My body, my immune system, myself. The world.

I'm lucky I am not suffering alone. Or that's what I've been told - people think having someone by my side who is going through the same hell as I am should be comforting. Yeah, well it's fucking not. Tell me, if you had the flu, like a REALLY bad case of it, would you want to spread it to a loved one, knowing how much they'd struggle? Would that make you feel better? If you said yes than I don't really have anything else to say to you except: what the actual fuck?!

No, hell is still hell and is even worse when someone you love is going through it too. That someone in my case is my boyfriend Corpse.

For the entirety of our relationship I've had people define it with Fibromyalgia, as if it's the only reason we're together. As if it's the only thing we have in common or that binds us. We did meet because of it, but we fell in love with each other, the illness had nothing to do with it.

It was a horrible day for me. I couldn't get out of bed. The right half of my body wasn't responding to my brains commands. I was feeling sick as though I had eaten something spoiled when my stomach was completely empty. I knew better than to eat anything when in such pain - I knew I wouldn't be able to hold it down. My body is weirdly wired that's for certain, but I still have a tough time with the connection it has made between pain and vomiting. Food only sped up that process and the lack of nutrients only made my situation worse. I knew what I had to do but in order to do it, I'd have to get my body to cooperate which was the equivalent of trying to drive a wrecked car. Impossible.

I needed medical help. ASAP. Not that the doctors were of any help. They've been denying my diagnosis because of my body's condition. Seeing that I'm a rather fit girl doesn't help my case - I may look fit but I'm as unsteady as a twig in the wind. I've been made fragile because of this fucking disease. But no one believes it.