#ha I guess I didn't throw enough angst at y'all earlier today??

[rpf-bat]

The Hardest Part Of This Is Leaving You

Pairing: Gerard Way x Reader

Genre: Angst, Drama

Summary: Gerard should be playing a sold-out show. Instead, he’s in a hospital bed, fighting liver cancer. Can the doctors grant him a miracle? Or, is this the end?

“We need to have this conversation,” Gerard insisted, crossing his frail arms, as he sat on his hospital bed. 

“No, we don’t,” you frowned. “The procedure is gonna be a success. The doctors are gonna cure you.”

“Honey, it’s already stage three,” Gerard confessed realistically. “You know if it progresses to stage four, I’m a goner.” 

“We flew across the country, to this hospital, so that it won’t progress to stage four,” you insisted. “I want to believe that the surgery will be a success.” 

“You can hope for the best,” Gerard sighed, rubbing his hand through what was left of his short, blonde hair, “but you have to be ready for the worst, too.” 

“I’m not ready for it,” you admitted, tears choking your voice. “I hate seeing you so emaciated, in such pain, and not being able to do a thing about it.”

“It’s not your fault,” Gerard soothed, getting up from the cot to gather you in his arms. “Cancer can affect anyone. Nobody knows why it chooses its victims.” 

“Gee, you need to get back in bed,” you insisted. You couldn’t have him falling again. “I should be the one consoling you, when you’re going through all this shit, not the other way around.” 

He slumped back onto his pillows, frowning. You remembered how he used to look in the morning, his long locks strewn out on your bed behind him as he was just waking up. He looked so gorgeous then. You remembered the horror you had felt, the first time one of those handsome strands had fallen out. And then he’d begun to lose them in clumps….

“I hate you seeing me like this,” he said softly. “I’m weak, and ugly now. I’m not the man you fell in love with.” 

“Yes, you are, Gee,” you assured him, taking his too-thin hand in your own. “I promised to stay with you in sickness or health, and I meant that.” 

“We could’ve had a nicer ceremony, if we weren’t in such a rush, because of me,” Gerard sighed. “I wish you could’ve had a big church wedding, like in the movies. You deserve that.”

Instead, you’d just gone down to the courthouse one afternoon, and signed a marriage certificate. There had been little formality to it. 

“You said you wanted to make me your wife, before the end came,” you reminded. “I could never refuse you your dying wish.”

“So you do, in fact, acknowledge that I’m dying,” your husband said, with a wry smile. 

“Maybe the doctors will give us a miracle,” you insisted hopefully. “And we can do the big ceremony, with the white dress and all that, later, once you’re feeling healthy again.” 

“I’m never going to be healthy again, sugar,” Gerard mumbled. “The sooner you accept it, the easier it’s gonna be.” 

How could you possibly accept it? Gerard was still so young. Only twenty-nine years old. He’d just recorded perhaps the greatest album of his career. 

The papers were already saying things like, he will leave behind this record, as his legacy. But, you thought he still had so many songs in him left to write. He deserved a chance to compose them, didn’t he? 

You couldn’t forget how he’d cried, when he’d had to make the announcement, that he was cancelling the rest of the tour. He didn’t want to disappoint his fans, but his condition was just deteriorating far too fast. 

His bandmates had cried, too. They knew that that last show, might be the last chance they ever had to perform by his side. They weren’t ready for the band to come to such an abrupt end. They’d played their hearts out, even with tears streaming down their cheeks. 

“You’re gonna get better,” you said stubbornly. “Then, you can reschedule those tour dates, go back to doing what you love.” 

“Y/N, please be realistic,” Gerard pleaded, squeezing your hand tighter. “Just….read it, won’t you?”

“No,” you sobbed. “No, I don’t want to read your will.”

“I spent all this time writing it,” Gerard sighed. “I put a lot of thought into it.” 

“I don’t want you thinking about who gets your stuff when you’re gone,” you cried. “I don’t want you giving up - I want to hear you say that you’re determined to live!” 

“You think I don’t want to live?!” Gerard demanded. “You think I don’t wish every day, that I could have more days, more nights, with you? You think I don’t regret spending months away, with the band, when I should have spent every single day in your arms? I wanted to be with you until your dying day. I wanted us to grow old together. And I hate the thought of you having to bury me so soon. But it’s not up to me! I only have as many days,  as God is willing to give me on this earth.” 

“God is a bastard,” you hissed, “for stealing you away from me. From all the kids who need you, too. If He’s even up there at all.” 

“Now’s not the time to go dissing the man,” Gerard chuckled mirthlessly. “If this surgery doesn’t do what you’re hoping it will do, getting on your knees to pray, will be the only option you have left.” 

You couldn’t hold back your tears. You reached over and just held him tight, squeezing him until you worried it might hurt his fragile body. But, he didn’t pull away. 

“I don’t want to let you go, Y/N,” Gerard whispered desperately. “Not now. Not ever.” 

You clung ever tighter, stroking his back gently, hating how you could so easily feel his bones. 

“I don’t wanna leave you,” Gerard confessed vulnerably. “I don’t wanna go yet.” 

You didn’t know what to say. You just kept hugging him, and crying. He was right - at the end of the day, what he wanted, might not make a difference at all. 

At last, he raised his head to look at you. “If the end comes for me, my love…” 

“Yes?” 

“You don’t wanna read it, fine, I’ll summarize it for ya,” Gerard said bitterly. “I’m leaving you everything that I got. All the money I’ve earned off CD sales, ticket sales, merch sales….all that shit’s gonna be yours. Do whatever you want with it. Buy a mansion. Buy a car. Take a vacation to Aruba, to try and forget about me.” 

“As if I could ever forget you, Gee,” you replied, shocked by the harsh tone that had suddenly entered his voice. “You’re the love of my life, don’t you know that? You’re the only one for me.” 

“Don’t say that, Y/N,” Gerard warned. “I don’t want you to spend the rest of your life just...mourning me, as my widow. You deserve to be happy, even if it’s not with me. Someday, I hope you’ll be able to find somebody else.” 

“I don’t want anybody else,” you vowed. “I want you, Gee. And I don’t give a fuck about the money. I don’t care if I live in a cardboard box, as long as you’re living there with me.” 

“I don’t think I’m going to be doing much living, sugar,” Gerard sighed hopelessly. “With you, or without you.” 

You heard the sound of someone clearing their throat, and jumped off the hospital bed in surprise, as a nurse entered the room. 

“Mr. Way,” she said softly. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but we’re ready to take you into surgery now.” 

You watched her wheel the gurney out of the room, towards the OR. You saw the defeated look in his eyes as he left your side, regardless of what he’d just said a few minutes ago. 

Now, all you could do was wait. You knew it might be hours before the procedure was complete. The doctors would call you when it was over, to give you the good news, or bad news. You had no way of knowing which it would be. 

You began to wander the hospital corridors aimlessly, until you came upon a small, empty chapel. You knelt down in a pew, unsure what else to do. 

Please let the doctors save him, you begged, even though you weren’t sure if anyone was listening. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

“Mrs. Way?” a soft voice asked, as you felt a tap on your shoulder. It took you a second to realize the nurse was speaking to you - it had only been a short time ago, that you’d taken Gerard’s name. 

“Your husband just came out of surgery,” she explained. “He’s in room 1023. The anesthesia should be wearing off. He should be waking up soon.” 

You didn’t wait to hear any more. You rushed to Gerard’s side. 

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

You stroked his hair as you watched him sleep. He looked like an angel. 

“Hey, beautiful,” he mumbled, a smile spreading across his face, as he stirred at your touch. You still thought he was beautiful, too, even with the breathing tubes stuck up his nose. 

“How are you feeling?” you asked gently. 

“I’m on a lot of painkillers right now,” Gerard chuckled. “So right now, I’m not feeling very much at all.” 

“The area we operated on, may hurt quite a bit later, unfortunately,” said a somber voice, and you turned to see a doctor with a clipboard, standing at the entrance to the room. 

Gerard pulled up his hospital gown, to gaze down at the bandage that now covered most of his abdomen. 

“We’re fortunate,” the doctor went on, “that a combination of aggressive chemotherapy, and trans-arterial embolization, gave us enough time to find you a donor.” 

“I know I only got moved to the top of the transplant waiting list, because I’m a celebrity,” Gerard said guiltily. “There are other people who need new organs just as much as me, who just can’t afford to be treated at the best hospitals in the country, like I can.” 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Mr. Way,” the doctor cautioned. “There’s still a chance that your body could reject your new liver.” 

“What happens if it does?” you asked, grabbing hold of Gerard’s hand again. What if you came all this way for nothing? 

“If the cancer has metastasized to too great a degree, then, unfortunately, the transplant may prove ineffective,” the doctor acknowledged. 

“And then I’ll die,” Gerard realized somberly. 

“Yes, Mr. Way,” the doctor nodded sadly. “We will, of course, be administering cyclosporine to you via IV, to reduce the chances of transplant rejection. But, if you develop a fever, or if you begin to experience severe abdominal swelling, you should alert us immediately.” 

“Because the organ you just gave me, could turn traitor and kill me, too,” Gerard huffed. “Just as easily as the disease that you’re trying to cure.” 

“Cancer is one of the most difficult diseases in this world to treat, Mr. Way,” the doctor sighed. “But, we will hope for the best.” 

Hope for the best, but be ready for the worst. 

You were so sick of hearing this. You just wanted to know if the man you loved would be okay, or not! 

The doctor excused himself, and Gerard tugged on your hand as soon as you were alone, sending you tumbling into his hospital bed. 

“Careful!” you cautioned. “You don’t want to pop a stitch!”

“I just….need you in my arms right now,” Gerard said passionately. “I’m scared, Y/N.”

You complied with his request, embracing him gently. You wanted to hold him tighter, but you didn’t want to hurt him. 

“I’m scared, too,” you said softly. “We still don’t know how this is gonna end up….if you’re going to go into remission, or not.” 

“But, for tonight, I’m alive,” Gerard smiled, and wiped a tear from your lashes. “I know any moment could be my last….but I’m so happy that in this moment, my heart is still beating, and you are here, by my side.”

“There’s nowhere in this world,” you promised, “that I would rather be.” 

“Kiss me now,” Gerard begged. “And one day, if I live through this, if my body can take it, just ravish me.” 

“You know I will,” you smiled softly, and bent, and placed your lips on his. Nothing was certain tonight  - except for the love that you shared together. But, even if Gerard saw it as a foregone conclusion, you weren’t ready to give up on him just yet.

A/N: This story may be fictional, but for many people, the pain of watching a loved one go through cancer, and it’s treatment, is all too real. If you are able, please consider donating to Be The Match, an organization that helps match leukemia patients with bone marrow donors. 

https://bethematch.org/support-the-cause/donate-financially/

If you are 18+ and in good health, you can also register as an organ donor, if you wish, through Donate Life.

https://www.donatelife.net/