The Hardest Part → Gerard Way One-Shot

"It was weird how she came across it, in a way. We were doing just fine. I'd just finished The Black Parade, and she'd just gotten a comic published. We thought it was going great." 

Aubrey's head rests against my shoulder as she lets out a long groan, her eyes closing as she presses further into my chest. We are sat in the backseat of Mikey's car, and we're riding to a party. 

"Are you okay?" I ask her, kissing her atop her forehead. 

She groans again and shakes her head, her eyes starting to water, "My stomach aches so bad, Gerard. I wanna go home."  

"It was weird, because she'd been fine moments before. This wasn't the first time it'd happened though. She'd be feeling energetic, laughing, playing, singing. Maybe even just sitting and writing, and she'd look okay. Then she'd just, like, screw her face up in utter agony. It was the worst thing." 

I'd finally convinced her to go to the hospital about it, even as much as she'd complained about it. 

"I'm fine, Gerard." She'd mutter. Then she'd laugh, "Hey, maybe I'm pregnant." 

I wish that's what it was. 

"I had to stay home for it, I was working on concepts for Umbrella Academy. She came home in tears, and it took hours for her to get it out. It took me hours to stop sobbing too, though, so I understood." 

The door creaks open to my bedroom, and I hear the sniffles and choked back whimpers as Aubrey sits next to me on the bed, turning off the lamp next to her. 

"I should've gotten checked sooner, Gerard. Why don't I listen to you, damn it? You're always right." She muttered, pressing against my shoulder, "Always right." 

"I'm not always right." I mutter, closing my sketchbook and setting it on the ground next to me and pulling her into my arms. I kiss her forehead, "What's happened, baby?" 

The sobbing starts again, her pushing away from me, leaving me cold as she presses her legs into her chest and presses her forehead against them, little screams and whimpers emitting from her mouth. It was the most broken I'd ever seen her, and I wasn't able to stop it. 

An hour later, the screaming subsides and all that's left are little sniffles and whimpers. 

She looks at me with a blotched face and a broken look, "Cancer." She whispers, "Gerard, I've got cancer." 

"She hated the chemo. She'd come home silent, not saying a thing. She'd look in the mirror before she came to bed every night. Woke up in the mornings and brushed her hair, and she'd collapse when she saw how much she was loosing so quickly."  

"Needles are disgusting." Aubrey growls, pressing on the band-aid on her arm as she slams the door behind her, covering her hair with a grey beanie, "I'm disgusting." 

The self-loathing had started two weeks after the cancer discovery, and I'd become fragile around her. She'd hated that too. 

"No you're not." I sigh, walking over to her and taking her beanie off her head. I press my mouth to hers and wrap my arms around her waist, "You're beautiful." 

She shakes her head, "I'm balding Gerard. No one wants to be near me anymore." 

I kiss her again, "It's their loss. At least I get you all to myself." And then I kiss her once more. 

She lets out a small laugh, "I don't deserve you, Gerard." 

I realize she's crying now, and I walk her to the couch, "And I don't deserve you."