WARNING(S): Non-MC reader, childhood friends to acquaintances, Hanahaki, illness, some melodrama, ghosting, discussions of dying and medically-assisted death, depression, unrequited love, third-wheeling, mild blood/gore, body horror, cliffhanger ending
Notes: (Shameless Billie Eilish lyric as the title, again.) I’ve had this thing sitting in my drafts since summer. Figured I’d finally post it and get it out of my hair. I know a lot of you don’t vibe with Non!MC, but I find the angst absolutely delicious, so fuck it we ball. If that’s not your thing, keep scrolling.
You were MC’s best friend.
Well, it wasn’t just you - but after the explosion that left her spiraling, you were all she had left of her old life. She clung to you in her rapid swings between numbness and breakdowns, and in turn, you grieved quietly.
You’d loved Granny Josephine and Caleb. You’d spent countless afternoons playing with them, spent so much time that you had practically assimilated into their patchwork family. Granny was a cautious woman, yet no less patient with you as her adoptive children dragged you into their life. Caleb was the cool older cousin figure you’d never had - and you grew to love them all as deeply as you loved your own family. And as you grew older, your love for Caleb began to blossom from innocent childhood admiration to something mature, something real, something deeper. But you weren’t blind to the way he and MC looked at each other now that you were adults - and so you pulled back. Put on a smile. Played the part of the childhood friend the best you were able.
Josephine and Caleb’s deaths rocked you to your core for months after. Yet you picked yourself up, determined to be there for MC when the younger woman needed support.
So when MC called you one night, breathless and upset, babbling about Caleb and the Fleet and something-something-alive, you almost dismissed it as wishful thinking. How many times had you both had dreams about him, whether it was saving him from the explosion or him crawling up from the grave? But she sounded so earnest, so distraught, that you had no choice but to believe her, as flabbergasted as you felt.
And when she brought him to Linkon, it was almost like seeing a poltergeist.
Caleb was alive, in the flesh, smiling softly with something unreadable in his gaze, something heavy and pained. It wasn’t until he spoke that you broke down crying, clutching them both as tight as your shaking hands could muster. MC cried with you, a dam of emotions finally bursting, and Caleb comforted you both, forever the pillar of calm when you were swept up in the tides of chaos.
From there, life got better. Or so you thought.
You spent as much time as you could with Caleb and MC when he was in Linkon. You laughed with them as you walked through the mall, teased Caleb about the same exact ice cream order since he was nine, followed them as they walked side-by-side, fingers so close yet not quite touching.
You played the part of the childhood friend as best you could. Well, until it all came crashing down.
—————
Your latest bout of illness had left you frustrated. It was autumn now, and while you expected sickness, you hadn’t expected it to last. Between getting slashed by a Wanderer on your way to the store, and now a stubborn cold, you were starting to hate the look of a hospital waiting room.
A persistent, mild cough - and minor chest pains, although those were irregular enough that you figured it wasn’t serious enough to report.
Your doctor furrowed her brow, looking at your chart. “This doesn’t seem like seasonal illness,” she told you, glancing up over her facemask. “But given you don’t have any underlying symptoms that could contribute, It’s unlikely you’ve contracted something worse.”
You just put on a smile, exhausted yet not surprised.
As you left the hospital, your phone buzzed. It was MC, asking you to meet her and Caleb at one of your favorite restaurants, one that you’d gone to a lot in your teen years. Given you hadn’t been able to get out much due to work, you typed back an affirmative and hurried home to change.
When you got there, Caleb and MC were sitting together in a booth. She noticed you first and waved you over with a big grin.
“Hey!” She greeted. “We just got here five minutes ago.”
“Good, I was worried I’d made you wait.” You nodded, sitting down and taking the menu.
MC nudged Caleb, and he said, “It’s been a while. How’ve you been?”
“Decent,” you answered distractedly before glancing up from the menu. “I’ve been a little sick, but it’s nothing serious.”
The waiter came around and took your orders, and after he left, you leaned in.
“So what’s the occasion?” You wondered, looking between them. “You workaholics don’t usually invite me out anymore.”
At this, Caleb and MC hesitated. They glanced at each other for a moment in silent dialogue before MC held up their intertwined hands. “We, uh, started dating.”
You nearly choked on the sip of water you’d taken. Coughing a little into your arm, you wiped your mouth. “Then what the heck am I doing here? Chaperoning?”
“We wanted to celebrate with you. Why? Is that against the rules?” Caleb teased, nudging your ankle with his shoe.
“More like I’ll feel like I’m intruding,” you mumbled under your breath.
Dating? Your chest gave a phantom ache at the thought. While you were content to step aside, it still really hurt. You’d loved Caleb for years, and you always dreamed that he would finally look at and see you someday. But, of course, he always had eyes for MC instead.
A smile, a twinge bitter, spread across your face. You would simply be the childhood friend, the anchor to a life that no longer existed.
Raising your glass, you held it out. “To the happy couple.”
As your drinks clinked together, you added, “Just don’t kiss in front of me and we’ll call it even.”
MC’s face flushed and Caleb chuckled. “I’ll try my best to keep her in line,” he teased, earning a slap to the arm.
Somehow that only made your chest ache worse. You coughed into the crook of your arm, blaming water that got down the wrong pipe.
—————
Another sleepless night.
Your bedroom was full of noise, raucous coughs wracking your body and making you tremble in your blankets. Dizziness fogged your head as your lungs demanded you cough harder.
As you rubbed your aching ribs, you threw a watery frown at your phone screen. Picking it up revealed the time: just a little past two AM.
How long had you laid here trying to fall asleep? How long was this fit going to last? You were exhausted. This was the third night in a row - and soon to be third day in a row - that you’d been forced to call out sick just so you could catch up on the sleep you desperately sought.
Setting the phone back down, you nestled into your pillow, mildly damp with sweat, and closed your eyes.
What had triggered the fit this time? As much as you tried not to think about it, it crept back into your mind anyway: it was a social media post, a picture from earlier in the evening on MC’s page. It was a picture of her and Caleb, arm-to-arm, the latter mid-laugh at the camera while she pressed a kiss to his cheek. It must’ve been taken on their date to the amusement park, the one she’d been gushing about in the group chat.
Remembering it made you start coughing again. Your chest prickled, painful like thorns with every breath in. The surgery scars down your back where the wanderer’s claws had gripped you now tingled uncomfortably.
You knew it would bother you. You knew their relationship would be a lot to swallow. But as bitter as you felt, you didn’t have the heart to ruin two friendships by making a move, nor did you have the heart to leave them. They were your oldest friends, and they were still good to you - well, as good as they could be. Both of them were horribly busy these days, MC with her hunting job and Caleb with the Fleet. In the rare instances where you could all hang out, they always seemed more preoccupied with each other than you. You’d quietly dipped out once or twice, only to have to apologize to MC later when she texted you upset that you hadn’t even said goodbye.
And Caleb… he was different now. Less attentive. To you, at least. Texts would get left on read, calls would be missed (and apologized for later), and it was nigh impossible to see him outside of your third-wheeling their dates. It hurt. It hurt a lot.
Even his old DAA buddies kept in touch with him, some more than others. Gideon sympathetically patted your back with a crooked smile. “He’s got a lot more going on now. I-- well, I guess I’m just glad he’s back.”
It didn’t help your feelings. It didn’t help your longing. And as you lay in bed coughing your eyes out, you reminisced on your childhood. While you remembered he had been hyper-attentive to MC, you slowly began to realize just how hyper-attentive he’d been. Playdates had been cut short or ditched entirely for her. Wherever she wanted to go, whatever she wanted to do, it was like he put himself aside for her. And MC exploited it as much as she could. Caleb wasn’t just your friend, he was her anchor. She may not have been mean about it, but she certainly kept his attention without realizing it.
Still, you couldn’t blame her. You had tried, once. You tried to hate her. But you realized you couldn’t. She was too ingrained into your life, dug too deep in your heart. And so you let her have him, as much as it ached to see the love of your life love someone else.
You coughed again, tears stinging your eyes as something crept up your esophagus. A lump, stuck in the base of your throat, unable to be dislodged as your fit subsided.
—————
“Hey,” MC’s voice came through the receiver, worried and breathless, “are you alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, why?” You answered, sipping your soup slowly.
“I went to the cafe to see you and you weren’t working again today. Are you still sick? Do you need medicine?”
“It’s just a really stubborn cough, I’ll be fine.”
“You’ve had ‘a really stubborn cough’ for like a month now,” she pointed out flatly. “What did the doctor say?”
You sighed. “She said it was nothing to worry about. It’s not like I’m throwing up or anything. I promise I’ll go in the second I feel like I need to.”
The other side of the line was quiet for a moment. Then she heaved a sigh of her own. “... Well, alright. I’ll swing by with some soup later. Caleb made too much for me to eat alone.”
“Ah, good. I just finished the last of my canned stuff.” You set the bowl aside, glancing at the window. It was so bright and beautiful outside, and it was unfair that you were stuck in your apartment. “Speaking of, how is he? I haven’t talked to him in a while.”
“Busy,” she deadpanned, and it got a chuckle out of you. “He had some free time yesterday, so I went to visit him. He said he’ll be out for a few weeks.”
He hadn’t told you any of that. Your chest throbbed. If you’d known you were able to see him, you’d have taken a trip to Skyhaven to say hello.
Instead, you hummed, “I see.”
“I told him you said hi,” she reassured. “I can’t wait until we can get together again.”
You tried your best to smile, even though she couldn’t see. “... Yeah, me too. Maybe by the time he gets back, I’ll get rid of whatever the heck this is.”
—————
Your chest pain got worse. Your cough got worse, more insistent, leaving you with dizzy spells that bordered on fainting.
One evening, MC called you. She was giggling, words slurring a little, denoting that she’d been drinking. “C’mon over, Yinnnn, Drinkin’s no fun when you’re not here!”
“I dunno, I probably shouldn’t,” you hesitantly answered. It had already been a long day, and you were looking forward to relaxing with a movie.
“Aw c’mon, Caleb’s back! An’ I wanna see m’bess friends together again…”
Your heart clenched. He was back? You’d seen a post earlier in the day, but you’d ignored it. You were ignoring a lot from MC and Caleb now - seeing them be so playful and affectionate on the timeline made your sickness flare.
Finally, you sighed. “Well, okay, maybe for a few minutes.”
She cheered. There was a laugh in the background - and your stomach did a flip when you realized he was already there. “Kayyy, we’re waiting! Hurry up, slowpoke!”
You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.
Just as you were about to hang up, you heard a mumble from the background. It was faint, but you could almost pick it up: “Why’d you invite Yin? I thought it was going to be just us tonight.”
“Because Yin’s my best friend and you have sooooo much to catch up on,” she scolded, her voice slightly further away. Perhaps she’d forgotten to hang up and had set the phone down.
Caleb’s next reply made your heart fall into your shoes. “I don’t like her, I like you.”
Fingers shaking, you fumbled with the buttons, trying to end the call. MC’s offended gasp was the last thing you heard from the other end before you were coughing again, finally succumbing to the fit that you’d been so desperately trying to keep quiet. You coughed so hard you stumbled into the wall, the tang of something metallic and bitter on your tongue. Tears stung your eyes, both from the fit and from the sudden slam of hurt that hit your chest like a heavy door.
When at last you could breathe again, you almost screamed at the crimson splattered across your sleeve. At the same time, you looked down and really did scream when you saw a mass of something dark, splotchy-black, curled in on itself in an oozing puddle of blood and mucus.
—————
Test after test, doctor after doctor, nurse after nurse. You’d been in the ER for hours, shivering in the thin blankets you’d been given, trying to keep your anxiety - and your coughing fits - to a manageable level.
Finally, a doctor walked in just after sunrise with a grim expression. He did his best to give you a sympathetic smile, though it fell flat as he spoke to you.
“Miss Lin, I’m very sorry, but your tests came back positive for a rare variant of Protocore Syndrome.” He adjusted his glasses and scanned through your chart again. “You have Hanahaki, stage three. It’s a more difficult disease, but it is treatable. You’re lucky you came in when you did - had you gotten to stage four, your chances of survival would drop to the forty-to-fifty-percent range.”
Your stomach churned. “What… uh, is Hanahaki?”
“It’s a new disease, one that isn’t very well-documented due to just how rare it is. You’re the first case of this variant in about five years or so, and I have reason to suspect that you contracted Protocore Syndrome sometime approximately two or three months ago.”
Two or three months ago… so that would be…
“When I got attacked,” you murmured dizzily. “That Wanderer incident… that was when…?”
He nodded. “To put it bluntly: the fragments we took from your back caused the germination of flowers in and around your lungs. What we’ll need to do is locate the root and surgically remove it. The good news is that this will cure you of the disease.” Then the doctor heaved a sigh. “The bad news is that you will lose any and all memories of the person who caused the growth in the first place. Hanahaki is primarily caused by a certain type of emotional distress. When a patient feels abandoned or unloved by someone, the stems grow from the root and form buds. These can be coughed up as flower buds or flower petals. Should you ignore it long enough, the disease will trigger a frenzy and the stems will thorn, piercing your heart and lungs and causing imminent death.”
You were numb with disbelief. Your hand reached for your ribs, pausing along your sternum. There were flowers growing inside you? Flowers that could - and would - kill you?
“So… so if I want to live…” you swallowed. “... I have to forget him? All of him?”
“Everything,” he confirmed. “Even the fact that you contracted Hanahaki in the first place. We’re still unsure as to why - researchers have theorized that it minimizes recurrence.”
You nodded. There was a new lump in your throat, one that was not a result of rotting flowers.
“I understand if this is a difficult decision to make. Many before you have agonized over it as well. If you do choose to pass, we will monitor you until the point of no return; then you will be put into a medically-induced coma until the frenzy. You will not pass away in pain.”
Bobbing your head in another shaky nod, you stared at the blankets. Your limbs felt unusually cold. Your chest ached when you mulled over all that he’d said.
“I… I need some time to think about it,” you finally answered weakly.
You wanted to scream. To cry. To stomp your feet like a child. None of this was fair. Why was this happening to you of all people?
Your parents wouldn’t understand. Surely they wouldn’t. They’d be so disappointed in you, getting yourself sick over a boy that had never given you a second glance. Your friends would find out eventually. MC would find out eventually. And when she did… he would too.
“I understand. You will have to stay for further testing, I’m afraid.” Here, he really did smile, albeit it was a pitying one. “You’ll be transferred to a proper room soon. Is there anyone you want to call? Family, friends…?”
Something sour settled in your guts, and you swallowed again. “Uh… no, that’s okay. I just need to call my boss and let her know I won’t be available for a while.”
—————
It didn’t take long for people to visit.
Your friends rushed in, sheepishly admitting they would’ve brought you flowers until they remembered what it was you said you had. You just laughed. It was ironic, wasn’t it? Bringing a Hanahaki patient a get-well bouquet?
You coughed up more buds now. Sometimes they were shriveled and small, other times they were barely peeking open. Sometimes it was petals, pale pink and wrinkled beneath the splash of blood and mucus and bile. You didn’t quite know what they were, but seeing them was simultaneously a comfort and a horror.
Your parents eventually called, in a panic over hearing from a friend of a friend about your hospitalization. Your mother chewed you out for not telling them and your father warned that you’d better make the right decision for your health. They didn’t shame you like you assumed they would, although they were likely too worried about your safety to be disappointed in the cause. Or perhaps they figured you were suffering enough without bringing up the reason.
And then MC and Caleb showed up.
You hadn’t spoken to either of them since the night MC invited you over, too stuffed-up with shame and hurt over what you’d heard him say. Neither of them seemed to have realized you’d accidentally eavesdropped; MC was just as concerned as she always was and Caleb frowned sympathetically.
You could hardly bear to look at him. Your chest prickled with agony. Your trash can was filling slowly with bloody buds and shriveled petals.
“Why was Simone the one to tell me that you were in the hospital?” She scolded, setting the bouquet in the vase on your bedside table before grabbing your hand. “Are you okay?”
“I will be,” you reassured with a ghost of a smile. “Don’t worry so much. You might give yourself what I’ve got.”
Her throat bobbed and her eyes looked misty. “You aren’t upset that we got you flowers, right? Caleb tried to warn me, but I thought you might want some color…”
“No, no, of course I’m not. It’s not like you gave me the flowers in my lungs or anything. It’s a sweet gesture, thank you.” You motioned towards the pile of get-well-soon cards next to the vase. “Honestly, if it was another card, I think I might’ve hit you.”
She let out a shaky laugh with you. Caleb remained quiet.
“I’ll be fine,” you repeated. “You’ve got each other, anyway. If something goes wrong, Caleb will be there.”
“But…” her voice cracked, “... but it won’t be the same without you.”
Your heart squeezed tightly. “You… you’ll live,” you finally landed on. You frowned, your own eyes prickling with moisture as she wiped hers on her sleeve.
After so long remaining silent, Caleb’s voice made the heart monitor beep quicker for a few seconds. “… so who is it? Who did this?”
And there it was. The million-dollar question. The one you’d hoped one of them would avoid asking.
“Does it matter?” You asked instead, flat. “I’d still be sick, and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.”
“But— Yin, you’re dying.” She pointed out shakily.
You nodded slowly. “I’m aware.”
“Maybe if— if I knew, I could… beat them up for you!” She offered, squeezing your hand. She was so, so warm. “Or maybe I could drag ‘em in here and… and make them hear you out… or…”
You smiled sadly, pressing your thumb across her knuckles. “He doesn't see me that way. Never has, never will. I appreciate your support but there’s really no reason to take revenge on someone who can’t help his feelings.”
MC sniffled. Behind her, Caleb squeezed her shoulder.
“Please tell me you aren’t throwing your life away because of some loser,” she muttered bitterly.
You almost huffed a laugh at the irony. Instead, you gave them a wry smile.
“If I don’t get the operation, I die. If I do get the operation, every last memory - the good and the bad - is gone. Months, years of my life, gone. I will never get them back, even if I get Hanahaki again. I’ll just have more to lose.” You paused as the gravity of your words settled in. “If you had it because of Caleb, could you go through with it?”
Caleb stiffened in horror, and MC faltered. Her glassy eyes went wide, and then they softened with understanding.
“You don’t understand. You’ll never understand. You and Caleb are smitten as kittens.” You felt choked. You could feel the roots tightening painfully in your lungs. “These— these stupid damn feelings— I hate myself every day because I can’t seem to let him go. I hate myself for letting someone affect me this much. But I can’t just forget about him. I’m selfish. I want him in my life, even if I’m nothing to him.” You faltered for a moment, before admitting, “If that makes me a fool, then I am. If it means I’m stupid, I am. You’d say the same exact thing if it were you dying in this bed.”
“But you won’t,” Caleb said softly. “You won’t die.”
You could feel another bud lodged in your throat. As you coughed into your arm, you mumbled, “You can’t be sure of that.”
—————
When MC stepped out to use the bathroom, you were alone with him. You struggled to keep your coughs in as he stared out the window.
It was now or never. You felt deep in your bones that you wouldn’t get another chance to say it.
“Caleb,” you croaked out.
He turned his head. “Yeah?”
You hesitated for a moment. The heart monitor picked up speed for a few beats before you closed your eyes and took a breath. “Take… take care. In Skyhaven. I hope you and MC are happy together.”
He was quiet. And then he physically turned to look at you. “Sounds too final when you say it like that,” he said carefully.
You scoffed a laugh, interrupted by a cough. “This is pretty final. Either I lose a big part of myself, or I die. Either way, I— I don’t want you to feel any kind of guilt. Either of you. You couldn’t have done anything to prevent this.”
The room was silent. Beeping monitors and the mumble of whatever was playing on TV filled the gaps.
“I know,” you admitted. “I know you’ve been frustrated with me. I’m sorry I third-wheeled you so much. I just thought… since she included me, I thought I could pretend everything was fine between us. Like we were still friends.”
“… What?” He sounded breathy, almost as if he was about to laugh. But there was no humor in how he looked at you.
“I… I heard you, that night. When MC invited me over for drinks.” You couldn’t quite meet his eyes. If you did, you worried that you’d start crying. “That’s— it’s kind of why I feel more at peace about this. You have each other. Even if I’m not there… you’ll protect her. Just like you always do.”
“That’s not— you…” Caleb trailed off. And then he chuckled, a hollow, flat sound, and tried again. “You’re going to break her heart.”
You considered this. Guilt settled heavy in your chest like bricks. “Even if what I’m about to choose breaks her heart, she’s got you. She always has.”
He raised a brow at the almost bitter note to your tone, but before he could respond, MC came back.
“Sorry, we have to leave,” she apologized, clutching your hand again. “I promise, I’ll come back and visit when I can. Just—” she bit her lip. “If… if you do choose to go, then…”
“Relax. I’ll let you know.” You gave her your best reassuring grin. “I don’t wanna keep you. Thanks for the flowers.”
Even as they left, MC gave you worried, longing stares. Caleb glanced back, a contemplative frown on his face, but didn’t say a word.
And you were alone.
Heaving a sigh, you turned tiredly to the bedside table. Someone - maybe a nurse, or a friend, you couldn’t remember - had left you a notepad and pen.
Taking the pen, you tapped the end to your chin. You had some arrangements to make.
romaincrisis
theartofmadeline
origamiaround
2087
germansingergirl
areudirty
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