Hand in Hand || Stanford x Reader

Chapter 22 • You

I hated feeling helpless.  I was supposed to be the strong one, the tough Grauntie to these kids.  And here I was, sobbing my heart out. 

Stop it, get your act together, Y/N, I thought, but I was past my breaking point.  The stress of keeping my disease a secret was balanced by the bliss of ignoring it, but this, this was horrible.  Now everyone knew, and all my walls were coming down.  I had to face it: my life was on a countdown.  I wasn't going to live to see the kids turn thirteen, wasn't even going to live to see my wedding day.  I'm sorry, Stanford. 

Mabel looked up at Stanford with big doe eyes, scared.  "Grauntie Y/N's not okay?"  She said slowly, unable to comprehend the horror of it. 

Stanford shook his head sadly, and I saw he was barely keeping himself together.  His shoulders were shaking.  "No, she's not.  She fooled as all for far too long. Y/N has terminal cancer, Mabel. She's only expected to live until August 31st."

Mabel's eyes welled with tears. "August 31st?! That's our birthday! You're telling me my only Grauntie's going to die on my birthday?!" She ran into my lap and hugged me tight, like she was never going to let go, making it hard to breathe.  Funny how something as easy as breathing was becoming harder and harder these days. 

I let out a weak laugh. "I'm still here, Mabel.  It's going to be a while before it gets the best of me."  I said, ignoring the lump of red-hot pain in my chest.  I hugged her back and rocked her slowly back and forth.  I loved that child, and hated hurting her like this.  She deserved a better Grauntie than me. 

Dipper seemed suspicious.  "That explains the coughing all the time, but why did you lie about it?  Why couldn't you tell us?"

I shook my head.  "Sometimes the truth isn't good enough.  The only thing that would've changed is all of you getting worried about something you can't change.  You'll understand that one day. But I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to find out like this."

I carefully let go of Mabel, my heart shattering as she ran away from me, crying all the way.  This was exactly why I kept it hidden: I didn't want people close to me getting hurt. Dipper ran after her, leaving me and Stanford alone. 

His eyes stayed dry for a full ten seconds, then the waterworks started up for him as well.  I realized I had never seen him cry before, and the same went for me.  We were both sobbing messes and had no idea what to do about it.

Stanford embraced me tightly, letting the tears from his eyes fall into my hair.  "I understand why you wouldn't tell me, but that doesn't make it any easier.  I don't want to lose the woman I love, not for the third time."

I leaned my head into his shoulder.  "Why do you think we never got anywhere with the wedding plans, not even getting a guest list together?  It's not fair to you to marry a doomed woman." 

He gripped my hands, running his thumb over the engagement ring.  "I don't care, Y/N.  If-if you're going to die-"  Stanford's voice broke at the sentence. "If you're going to die, I want you to do it as my wife.  Will you please cut the bullcrap of 'it's not fair?'  I don't care how fair it is, I want it be be official before you-"  He couldn't finish the thought.  Another tear slid silently down his face.

I wanted to scream no, to say he deserved someone who wouldn't be six feet under, but I made the mistake of looking into his eyes.  Those chocolate brown eyes pleaded with me to submit, and I knew then rejecting it would kill him. I was already poisoning our relationship with my cancer, but I couldn't break his heart like that.

"Alright," I breathed, my voice nearly a whisper.  "When my time's up, I'll leave this world as Y/N Pines."

Stanford let out a sigh of relief.  "Thank you."

For the first time in too long, we stayed in the embrace, content to be there with each other.  I missed this more than I wanted to admit.  How long had it been since we were able to just lean on each other?  And now, thanks to my cursed tumor, it wasn't going to last.

I felt yet another cough rise in my throat like a wave of fire.  I hurriedly pulled away and let it out into my rag, wincing as more spots of blood appeared on the fabric.  It soon finished, and I shoved my rag back into my pocket.  I was so over being sick, it wasn't even worth getting angry about anymore.  I was hollow inside, a shell of who I once was. 

Stanford gently put his arm around my shoulders.  "I'm not going to ask if you're okay, that's a stupid question.  But are you done coughing?"

I leaned into him, taking the time to enjoy his presence.  "For now, yes.  It comes and goes, usually during the most inconvenient times."

He smiled at me to mask the pain in his eyes.  "Ironically, it just had to be cancer that made us finally plan a wedding." 

I gave a rare smile, my vision growing blurry with tears again.  "We really are that bad at planning."

I let my mind drift as I leaned against Stanford.  An image of the fourth tarot card appeared in my head: the skull.  I snorted and did and odd mixture of crying and laughing.

My fiancée looked into my eyes, concerned.  "What is it?"

I took a deep breath, wincing as the air pushed against my failing lungs.  "The tarot cards the palm reader gave me.  Each one came true.  Except for the skull."  I paused and let my lone tear make its way down my cheek.  "It's not long before that one's fulfilled."