Antichrist [m.h. AU]

Care

In the early morning I rolled out of Matty's bed with as much strength as possible to get to the bathroom. It felt like blocks of bricks were tumbling in my stomach I had to throw up. I had no choice but to throw up or choke on my own vomit in bed. Ever since I finished my last roundhouse of chemo I've been sick non stop. Consistently laying around Matty's house while he watches me like a sick child. It felt terrible knowing he spent his vacation watching me vomit every meal he tried making me or had to help me into the bath. I was getting weaker, and he knew that. Neither of us really brought up the fact that nothing was improving and it was scary. Matty never spoke of wanting to marry me again. Honestly I figured it was just some sort of way to keep my hopes up, like I was going to live forever.

I put my oxygen tubes back around my ears and rubbed the sore spot on my fist from all the IV pricks. Standing up from the bathroom floor I held my stomach wishing I could feel full for once. Every time I ate it was like food slips right through my body. While walking out of the bathroom Matty emerged from my bedroom pulling me back into his cold chest before I could reach the couch. He nuzzled his face into my neck wrapping his arms around my front, kissing my skin only slightly. I pushed him away just wanting to lie down and get the taste of puke out of my mouth. He dropped his arms to his side in disappointment as I went to sit down. "Did you throw up again?" He asked going to the kitchen and getting a drink. His tone was almost pitiful...so rough.

I nodded feeling my cheekbones that seemed to be thinning more and more every day. I was warm, but I felt like I was freezing.  "Here." He came back with orange juice in a thin glass cup then sat down with me. Silently, I drank it hoping later it doesn't come back up. I folded my legs over themselves leaning back into the cushions. Matty felt an urge to be right near me all morning, leaning over and resting his head on my chest. "How can you even look me in the eyes when I look like this?" I asked hoarsely overacting my change in complexion since last month, when I was healthy for the moment.

"Because I fell in love with who you are not what you look like. To me you're gorgeous regardless." His words didn't quite bring a smile or blush to my face. I looked back down at my lap fiddling with my fingers. He sighed, "Marry me." He whispered bringing his lips closer to my neck. "I mean it." My skin rose in goosebumps.

"Matty you can't marry me." I started. "If you marry me I'm gonna die within god knows how many days, weeks or months. You'll have to deal with so much shit if I leave, I know it. You'll be a widowed man in his mid-20's with no kids, not a family of your own and because your wife would be dead. Because her stupid fucking brain damage and cancer, all this other fucking-"

"Shh." He cut me off taking my hand in his tightly. "You're getting yourself worked up."

"Because I'm trying to explain to you why this is a bad idea Matty. Don't get me wrong, I would adore to marry you if I wasn't in this state. I would die to start a family with you, to watch you succeed right beside me but Matty-" I croaked feeling my eyes bubble with water "-I'm dying, and you know this. There isn't much time left for me, you can spend the rest of your life with a successful beautiful blond girl by the beach. You don't deserve to watch me die after all you've done, it hasn't even been a year and I appreciate so much you've done for me, but Matty you've got to let me go!" My voice gently startled him he leaned away from me with a look of shock. As if I just kicked a new born puppy too many times. There was that feeling in my veins like the blood was running through them too slow. My body felt limp like all my worries were just sucked from my brain.

"I want you to just think about it, okay?" He set his palm on my knee then pushed himself off the couch and wandered back to his room, closing the door gently with silence.

Now I could think, I could think the worst now that I was alone. As soon as he left the room I sank deeper into the couch wishing it would just swallow me. Coughing into my palm it felt like I could cry, my chest burned. Honestly if I could I would march myself right to my doctor and tell him to just stop. Let me die.

Because I find no hope in God to revive me now, wether my prayers are answered, the chemo kills everything and I'm still upright and breathing by 28- at the least. There's no reason to hold onto false hope by now, Marty knows I'm gonna die, my parents know I'm gonna die. I've given up on my siblings, it's not like I could've been there for them when they were growing. My brother is basically fucking depressed because of all the tragedy he's been through. How can I turn things around when it keeps getting worse.

"Fucking kill me already doc." I mumbled to myself quietly.

Matty.

I went through her phone, like a little arse but I couldnt help it. I am a little shit sometimes. Her messages with her best friend Sam was depressing, it was like reading a funeral eulogy. Fuck if I knew Violet was this miserable I would do more for her to feel better about this whole situation. All of us were pretty upset with a rain cloud over out head, but Violet? Violet's got a fucking hurricane above her and everyone she loves. It's like she's on this ship that's sending her in a nameless direction while trying to dodge lighting bolts and fish flying out of the water.

I don't know how many times I've said it but she doesn't deserve this.