Hermitcraft/Empires oneshots/drabbles

Till death do us part (Beetho)

I had this idea when listening to 'If we had each other' by Alec Benjamin

Beetho, another ship I've never written before! It's set in a modern AU, where Beef is terminally ill and Etho is struggling to make money

*Cracks knuckles* Time to bring out the ole medical knowledge

Au: Abuse? Idk thats what the dictionary definition said. Also hospital medical-y things

His feet hurt, and he was ready to collapse.

Etho was struggling to stay awake, keep working, keep mopping the floors. Eyes drooping, he fell forward for a second, and snapped his head back up. No, no. I have to keep- I need-

'What are you doing, you useless freak?' Before Etho could even see clearly, his eagle-eyed boss was in front of him, shoving the stick back into his hands. 'I don't pay you to stand around doing nothing! Work!'

'I'm sorry.' Etho said feebly. He hadn't slept for days. But he had to keep working. He needed the money. But before he could say another word, he collapsed, panting. The boss made a sound of disgust.

'I never should have hired you. Your cleaning is mediocre at best and you're wasting my time.'

'No... Please...' Etho said feebly, then crying out as the boss delivered a sharp kick to his side. The bigger man pulled him up and slapped him across the face.

'Get out!'

Slowly, Etho managed to crawl upright and shamble over to the door.

———

Somehow, Etho made it to the hospital. After gaining several worried looks from the staff, he stated his details and got let in. They recognised him, these night workers. Etho had spent the last weeks here, after all.

As he made his way to the ward, a doctor stopped him.

'Sir, I'm terribly sorry, but you can't be here. Visiting hours are over.'

'Please, I need to see my husband. You let me in for the last few weeks...' Etho trailed off as he swayed dangerously on his feet. The doctor creased her forehead.

'Sir,' she asked cautiously, taking in his bruised face, 'Are you well rested?' Her eyes wandered to a nearby cart, a tray of syringes laying on top. If this man got violent, at least she had a weapon.

'Please, miss.' Etho 's tone was pleading. 'Hes getting really bad. I want to cherish any remaining... time.'

The doctor took a deep breath. 'On one condition, then.'

'Name it.'

'Sleep. You're the one whos been up, watching the patient, every day for the last few weeks? Take the chair and sleep.' She stepped aside to let him through the doors.

Etho couldn't believe his luck. 'Thank you.' He slipped inside, looking for the right bed. 'Beef?'

Beef had been trying to sleep, but he immediately perked up when he saw the pale-haired Canadian. 'Etho! You're here!'

'I would never stop coming back.' He dropped to the small chair beside the bed, feeling sleepiness weigh him down. Beef noticed the dark mark on Etho's face, half hidden by his mask. 'What happened?' He tried to reach up, but there were numerous IVs tangled and plugged into his arm, and they pinched as he tried to move.

'I got fired. The boss punched me.' Etho slumped forward, resting his bruised cheek on the cold, smooth surface of the bedsheet that covered Beef. 'I'm sorry, Beef. I don't know how much longer I can keep paying.'

'Etho.' Beef gently moved his arm to Etho's face, stroking his chin. 'You've been spending all our money on me. I'm dying. You need to let me go.'

'No!' Etho's snap was loud enough to stir a few patients, and the nurse on the other side of the ward to give him a disapproving look. 'I am not abandoning you.' He hissed, clutching Beef's hand. Etho's gaze landed on the folder lying on the side table, and he picked it up. Inside, all of Beef's medical records were neatly organised. The forms explained, in detail, all the previous medical problems Beef had, from broken arms to concussions to mental disorders. But the last few pages were the worst.

Etho had already read them dozens of times, but he kept reading to make sure there were no changes. The papers diagnosed him with amyloidosis, a terminal disease that caused organ failure, due to a buildup of proteins in his body. His kidneys were already gone, and a ever-working dialysis machine replaced them. His lungs looked like they would be next to go, and a nasal cannula was already in use to provide oxygen.

He kept reading, scanning the page quickly. Reasons why organ transplants wouldn't work; because finding donors were difficult, and the proteins would just flood the new ones anyway. An endless, fruitless search to try and find the over-producing tissues that made the proteins. Many more paragraphs of information

On the last page, eternally there, were written a few words that had broken Etho the first time he had read it.

Patient is unlikely to last beyond a few months. He would need a miracle to survive the organ shutdown. He is a lost cause, and if a more critical patient comes in, we will have no choice but to pull the life support.

So, no changes. Etho looked up to see Beef staring at him intensely. 'I'm not leaving you, Beef. Go sulk in a corner or something, but I'm staying right here until you're better, or until you die. They'd have to drag me away kicking and screaming to get me to leave.' He knew that if he tried to kiss Beef, the nurse would probably tell him to stop, for contamination reasons. But he didn't care. Carefully avoiding the IV lines, he pulled down his mask, leaned in and pressed his lips to Beef's. He inhaled sharply, surprised. The two stayed locked together for a few seconds before they broke apart, for fear of detection. Surprisingly, the nurse hadn't noticed them- Or he was just turning a blind eye to it. Either way, Etho was grateful.

Till death do us part, Beef.

I will never leave you.

Leaning over the covers, Etho crossed his arms and tried to rest in a comfortable position. Beef placed his hand on Etho's back, a comforting presence. 'Promise me you'll sleep, Etho.' Beef murmured, feeling the vertebra of Etho's spine under his vest. 'I know you've been watching me in the middle of the night. It's creepy, you know.' He added lightly, running his hand through Etho's silver hair.

Etho tilted his head to look up at Beef's face. 'Ok, fine.' Adjusting his position slightly, he let the everlasting tendrils of sleep take him. Slowly, his eyes drooped. As he drifted off, he pushed encroaching thoughts away- How much time Beef had left, how he was going to find a new job, who could help them get money- he pushed the thoughts down for later, and reached up to clasp Beef's hand as darkness overtook him.

Oooookaaaay, almost 1200 words. Thats not a drabble.

This is such a bittersweet story! I love it so much but its so sad.

Should I do a part two where Beef dies, or makes a miraculous recovery? Or both?