Everything's Alright

Mark (End 3)

When they tell me I have osteosarcoma in the back of my skull, I'm surprised I didn't see it coming. After my scare with it in my hip, they told me it's very possible I could get it again. It took a few weeks, but we cleared everything with our insurance company, and they have me on chemo. Jack was, and still is, here the entire time. He's spent nearly every night with me in the hospital, going back every third night. I dread that third night. I try to let the various machines hooked up to me not freak me out, but it keeps me thinking about how scary my hip thing was. I was pretending to be asleep and I heard the doctors... there's not much hope. I, personally, am good with that, but Jack...
I'm shaking. Jack isn't here now, and the beeps don't make me feel better. It sounds like some sort of robot apocalypse. Somehow, I get 6 hours of sleep. When I wake, Jack is sitting in his corner chair. When he sees I'm awake, he immediately rises and walks to me. He takes my hand.
"Are you feeling better?"
"Eh." I say, "I guess I've been worse."
"I'm determined on getting you out of here, Mark." He says.
"Jack," I tell him, "I hear them talking. Chances are... bad that I'll get out. I need you to be okay if I don't make it."
"Mark," he starts.
"No, Jack. I need you to promise me you'll make it through." I feel tears pool in the corners of my eyes as I say this. My death is the only death I'll accept for a long time.
"I will. I promise." He says, but I can tell he's having doubts about if he'll hold it together himself. He puts all of his focus into the back of my hand. He leans over and kisses me, even though I taste like 20 different kinds of decay. But it's nice and it's relaxing and it's Jack, so it's great on my end. The doctor walks in and my cheeks flush bright red, but Jack doesn't seem to mind. He takes me off for chemo treatment and for the rest of the day it's hell on Earth, but Jack makes it good.