Healing - Klance

(1)

"Lance," a raspy voice mumbles as footsteps approach the kitchen.

His head peeps up immediately from the vegetables he was previously cut to look at his girlfriend of two years. Her cheeks are streaked with tears and she's holding a stack of paper in her hands.

"Allura," is all he can say, sympathy lacing his voice. He walks towards her and wipes a tear on her cheek with his thumb. "What's wrong?"

"I finally went to the doctor like you've been begging me to do since I got those migraines," she starts.

Lance doesn't say a word, he just urges her to continue with his eyes.

"I have a stage four tumor in my brain... it's too far gone for them to remove it," she barely whispers.

Lance immediately feels shocked and disbelief coarse through his body. "What?"

"I have two... maybe three months," is all she says.

Lance steps back slightly, his eyes flicking back and forth between her and the papers in her hand. This can't be happening. It doesn't make sense. Allura is the most loving, loyal, and honest person he's ever met. How can this be happening to her out of all people?

He can't form words and just continues to stare at her.

Lance doesn't cry or get angry as his body completely numb with denial.

"I've been told to start making preparations by my doctor... only a five percent chance I'll live," Allura continues.

"What about chemo?" Lance asks trying to keep his voice light but a voice crack gives him away.

Allura moves her mouth to say something but Lance intercepts her. "They can shrink the tumor and maybe then they can do surgery."

"I don't want that Lance... even with that my odds of living are low," Allura explains, her brown eyes filled with their own hurt and disbelief. "I want the last few months of my life to be comfortable. Chemo will just drag out the pain and heartache for everyone."

Lance glares at the papers in her arms for a moment. She has them held close to her chest, her arms wrapped around them tightly.

"Have you called your parents?" Lance asks.

Allura shakes her head, 'no.'

They continue to stand there in silence, the timer going off for pork chops in the oven. Lance makes a move to take them out while Allura sets the papers on the counter and continues cutting vegetables.

They don't speak for the rest of the night, even when their limbs are tangled together in their bed and both are breathing softly. Their hands stroke one another anywhere they can find to touch trying to comfort one another.

It was the worst night of Lance's life.

The next few months were filled with agony. Each day that went by, his heart ached more and more. Slowly, he watched Allura's migraines get worse, her skin pale, her eyes lose their shine.

He went to every doctor's appointment, drove her anywhere she needed to go and for some reason, the continued to go to school. That was until one night, Allura started spasming next to him in their sleep. Lance immediately jumped up and made sure her head was secure and she was safe before grabbing his phone and calling nine-one-one.

Her heart stopped on the way to the hospital but the paramedics had resuscitated her by the time they pulled into the parking lot. She was unconscious for two days, hooked up to many machines and laid in what Lance could only assume to be an uncomfortable bed.