Janoskians Preferences

Preference #31 He's/You're dying.

Beau- All he heard was the clinging of your keys drop onto the leather chair beside him, and his eyes opened slowly, signaling that he knew you'd arrived back from your short coffee break. A week long stake in the ICU was making you more than tired, but you did it for Beau. He was the one in bad shape- he was the one dying. You felt like you had no reason to complain, though you felt like once he took his last breath, you'd want to do the same. His eyes weren't bright as usual, they were more of a faded blue-ish grey, something you'd never seen in him before- you concluded losing hope, and having all the medication the hospital could muster being pumped into his veins could've caused such a loss of his happy glow. He didn't have his normal shiny, brown hair that laid perfectly along his head, that space was now a pale widespread of his skin, constantly covered by a beanie he refused to take off ever since the first injection. It killed you how between the two of you, he was the one to smile lately- the only one to try to lighten the mood. It hurt him to see you like this, when you felt like it should've been the other way around. You scooted the chair up to the edge of the cold, metal hospital bed, and just draped your arm around him, taking it all in. You couldn't picture a day, a month, a year, the rest of your life without him, and he knew it. He slowly gathered all the energy he had in him to bring his hand up to your hair, gently running his fingers through it. You began to cry, the tears spilling onto his shirt, it wasn't just the casual crying he'd always been used to from you when you were; stressed, overwhelmed, or just generally sad. It was the kind of crying he could feel himself, the way your chest pulled in with every breath, it sounded almost painful. Moments like this are the times he didn't want you to remember him by.

Luke- After more than sixty years of marriage, you and Luke had become more than a married couple, but bestfriends. He had literally been with you through thick, and thin, every single up and down. You knew at the age of 86, your health was wearing to an end, and the night you ended up in the ER after a really bad fall from the porch, they were sure to inform him you more than likely weren't going to make it. He sat beside you that whole night, you were hooked up to oxygen, unable to catch your own breath anymore. You looked over at him, eyes obviously tear filled as he stroked the top of your wrinkled hand with his thumb like he always had, "You can let go..", he just kept whispering, reassuring you that he loves you, and that he always will- he just wanted you to be happy, and comfortable. You went in and out on conciousness all of the next day, unable to keep any food in your stomach. By the end of that week, you we're on life support, and though Luke wanted what was best for you, he was an emotional wreck. He spent every single last day of yours by your side, he wouldn't move a muscle for the world. (My friend asked if I could do dying at an old age, so by her request!)

Jai- You felt Jai turning in bed, and suddenly heard his feet hit the floor as he scattered to the bathroom. You heard him throwing up, and that sound put you on edge. You hated knowing there wasn’t anything you could do to make him feel better, or make it easier for him. He had just started chemotherapy, and this was one of his bad nights. He turned the sink on then off after gurgling, and spitting. He got back in bed and cuddled into you. He seemed tired, and cold- almost clamy, and you just wanted to give him all of your warmth. You just barely drifted off when you noticed he left your side again, and heard him hurling some more. This time however, when you heard his body finally give him a rest he didn’t come back. You waited for the sink to run, but it was silent. You got out of bed to check on him. He was leaning up against the cupboard with tired eyes holding his arms for warmth. “Are you okay,” you asked leaning up against the doorway. “If I get up I will throw up again. I’m just going sleep in here tonight,” he explained with a sore voice. “Okay..” you responded, then went over to grab the comforter off the bed, and grabbed another blanket from the closet. You helped him wrap up in the blanket the way he wanted to. That little bit of movement triggered his stomach again, but luckily it was only one round this time. When you were satisfied with his sleeping arrangement you wrapped yourself up and sat down next to him. “What are you doing,” he questioned solemnly looking forward instead of at you, so he could keep himself still. “I’m sleeping with you tonight” you responded. Months had passed, and nothing was helping, none of the treatments stopped the growth- and many nights were repeated just like this. After a while, the doctors explained that he was stage four, and none of the treatments they could provide would help. You two spent his last few days filled with many I love yous, and trying your best to mark things off his bucket list- things he could do, that is

Daniel-"Quit it.", you chuckled weakly, watching as Daniel messed with the tape over your IV. He gave you a small smile, bringing his eyes up to yours with a hopeful grin as he noticed your charts said you had gained some weight, and showed a few signs of getting healthier. You were having problems with coughing up blood a couple days before arriving at the hospital, and they told you that you had life threatening complications causing it. As soon as Daniel heard those words come out of the doctor's mouth, he practically broke down. He knew you were the one with the health issues, but mentally he was a mess- you were his rock, and he didn't know what he'd do without you. Days passed, and despite the medication, your symptons got even worse. It was getting to the point where you could no longer swallow your food, and fluid was building up in your lungs. Daniel sat by your side the entire time, normally silent, watching over you closely- making sure you had anything you could possibly need. The moment he felt your hand slowly slip out of his, heard a loud beep- the one he completely dreaded, and saw a flat line his heart completely dropped to his stomach. His whole world fell apart right in his hands, and he spent the next few months completely isolated.

James-Earlier that day, all was going well. It was your birthday, and the two of you had spent the day at the beach, making sure to stop and grab some ice cream before arriving back at your shared apartment just in time for you to go out with a couple friends. James was in the midst of setting up a surprise dinner, along with a surprise for later that night when he got the call. The hospital called telling him that you were in critical condition, due to being in a car accident moments before the call. James heart was in his throat as he quickly sped to the hospital, not bothering to say a word to anyone- there was only one thing on his mind; you. James sat in the waiting room, head in his hands, as they did their best to bring up your vital signs. He was mentally cursing himself for letting you go, unable to stop the single lines of tears from falling. He didn't care about his image, or if it wasn't 'manly' for him to cry like a small child getting a toy taken away, his heart was breaking into a thousand pieces. As soon as he heard the news, he went home, and sat up the entire night. Rejected any calls, all he did was replay your voicemail over, and over, "Hey! This is (Y/N), I'm sorry that I can't get to the phone right now. Leave me a message, and I'll be sure to return your call. Thanks!", was repeated for maybe an hour or two straight. He blew up your phone with text after text, insisting it wasn't real, it couldn't be.

(//I'm sorry if it wasn't as great as intended. I had really good ideas, but shortened them justa smidge so I could get it done for you guys(: )