Don't get me wrong I'm loving the movie, but the part where Lucius speaks to both the armies at the gates of Rome makes me laugh bc you know like twenty people heard him. Those mfs in the back were probably like "why is everyone cheering. What did he say."
hello internet friends, I’ve been MIA for a while but as an appalachian girl who moved to florida for work, please keep us in your thoughts/prayers/energy/meditations or however you send good intentions into the world (and donate to rescue resources if you can)
-> Chapter Ten: [The Potato Head Society & The Other Guy, Jarred?]
Summary: Jake helps you shave your head in hopes of keeping your power and control. Facing your own mortality makes you question your faith in a higher authority and Jensen and Jake met for the first, and what you hope, will be the last time.
Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Mentions of religion
Word Count: 4.2K
Author Note: It's no secret I've been having a little bit of a rough go on this hell-site as of late. But I'm still here, working on this series. Seeing your weblogs, comments and concepts truly mean the world to me. so please, don't be hesitant to share.
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“My only real advice for this kind of thing is this.” Jensen sighed as he stood on the steps of his townhouse with you. Coffee in one hand, end of life brochure in the other. Things had taken a rather drastic turn for him in the last few days. After your birthday, his health started to drastically diminish–so much so that his doctors weren’t too sure how much time there was left to combat the cancerous cells spreading through his body. “Go right through it.” Jensen smiled, never once did you ever see his positivity falter. “Like right through it, feel it all, be in it, don't avoid it because the moment you start avoiding it is when it's truly won.”
Little Sammy held your hand as you stood next to Jensen–he was too young to understand that the man talking to you was dying, hell, you weren't even sure if you understood the significance of the pamphlet Jensen had picked up after your first CCA meeting. He’d told you it was for a friend, little did you know that friend was standing right in front of you.
The Cancer Counseling Association held biweekly meetings at the hospital. You hadn’t planned on attending when your oncologist, Doctor Morrison, had first mentioned it. But when Jensen said he’d been going almost religiously for three years? You thought, what's the harm?
The harm was it was depressing as fuck.
“You go completely in the tough times, feel everything and get out the other end of it all.” You’d asked Jensen something along the lines of how he’d managed to keep fighting all this time and still be so positive about life and all its underwhelming rewards. He was for the most part, a happy guy despite it all. But even the strongest of soldiers have an achilles heel.
Jensens just so happened to be the fact you were forbidden fruit, he wasn't about to tread on another man's toes. Especially when he was tiptoeing towards the sweet release of death's gentle hands. None of that stopped his heart from racing whenever you smiled though.
“Many of these things you don't have a choice in.” Jensen continued as his eyes lingered down to little two year old Sammy who stood holding your hand in his. If anything you needed the encouragement to fight this battle for your children. “You know, fuck, whats that expression?” Jensen mulled it over as you chuckled, still standing on the path right outside his street facing townhouse. “Uhh–oh yeah! It's not how well you walked through the fire, but how you walked through it regardless.”
“I think I'm just barely crawling through the flames right now–” You answered honestly. There wasn't a nice way to say he’d looked better than he did right now, with sunken eyes and skin that looked as if all the life had been drained from his soul.
So you never mentioned it.
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
“So—“ The library wasn’t Jake Seresins favourite place to go, but there was someone who made the isles of hard covered literature easier to understand that always seemed to draw him in. Like a moth to a flame. “Did you have a good Christmas?” The silence that followed as you stared across the desk where you were processing returned textbooks had Jake's heart racing, he couldn’t read you and that fact made him all the more nervous. “Or not? If you’re Jewish maybe? Don’t celebrate Christmas that’s cool too I just thought—“ You had to giggle at the college football star standing across from the reception desk with his elbows leaning on the ledge. Your smile was pure happiness, it wasn’t hard to make Jake's heart melt inside his chest—a chest he once thought was hollow.
“I had a wonderful Christmas, I went home to visit my mum, she always says that if the Christians can steal Christmas from the pagans then us non-religious folk can celebrate too.” You shrugged your shoulders politely as you kept checking off the returned textbooks from students who’d taken them home over the summer.
“What do you mean when you say the Christians stole Christmas?” Jake Seresin grew up in an incredibly conservative, extremely religious household that attended church every Sunday rain hail or shine. Jake swore his mother nearly spontaneously combusted when he had to stay in hospital overnight after having his appendix removed. It was a Saturday afternoon when they’d presented to the emergency room—poor old Janeen nearly dropped dead at the mere thought of her ten year old missing church the next morning.
“Lord have mercy upon us, for we have sinned.” Jake could still remember his mother crying vividly when he woke after surgery. Even at ten he knew his mother was somewhat of an overly sensitive soul.
“Well technically, in order to convert the Germanic pagans who, like, celebrated the winter solstice and stuff—the Christians were like, fuck it, let’s just say that Jesus was born on this day and you can hang tinsel and stuff.” Again, you shrugged your shoulders like it was common knowledge, but as Jake stared down at you with confusion swirling in his emerald eyes, you thought for a split second that maybe this was actually news to the college athlete who’d been following you around for the better half of nine months. Respectfully.
“You can’t just change someone’s birthday like that? Can you?” Jake, in all his years of attending Sunday services, Sunday Schools, being forced to read the bible and knowing far too much about parting seas and burning bushes, he’d never once been told that Christmas was just a day.
“It’s kinda like how King James was rewriting the bible on one side of the castle and had witches trying to turn his pee into gold on the other.” Jake was speechless as you looked up at him from your chair, your eyes seemingly swirling with knowledge beyond your years. It made sense that you worked in the library on campus.
“How the hell do you know all this?” Jake asked through a sheepish smile he couldn’t hide, your intelligence intimated him in the best of ways. You made him want to do better, be better, strive for more in life. It wasn’t that Jake wasn’t smart, he was. But next to you? It was an unparalleled excellence.
“I uh—I tend to read a lot.” Jake caught the way you faded into yourself, never one to want to outshine others. “Just get lost in here sometimes, books are sometimes easier to understand than people.” Jake could sympathise with that sentiment, he knew what it was like to feel like everyone was watching, judging a book by its cover so to speak. Everyone knew him as the meathead footballer who’s weekends were spent racking up the body count.
But with you? Jake just felt like Jake. Because that’s who he was to you. Simply and forever Jake.
“Do you like, not believe in God or something Miss Y/l/n?” Jake asked cautiously. He didn’t want to offend you or come across as rude or anything—he was simply asking a question he thought he may need to know if he was ever going to introduce you to his mother.
“I find it hard to believe in a world full of stories about Gods and Goddesses from a plethora of different perspectives that there can only be one, if one exists they all have to right? Harmoniously and complacent with the way the universe has fallen to shit without their divine intervention.” Jake had to take a moment to take what you had just said in. He was almost rendered speechless, but not quite. Not Jake Seresin.
“Damn Honeybee, you’re fucking fearless aren’t you?“ Jake couldn’t help but to smirk as he tried to keep his voice down. “You’re just raw doggin’ life with no religious affiliations.” It was then your turn to laugh.
“Guess I am. What about you? Do you believe in a God? An all mighty man, or woman, that sits in the clouds and judges your every action?” You asked with a teasing smirk as Jake bit his bottom lip, mulling over your question:
Did he believe in God?
“My mother would probably prefer if I said yes, but, the more I look at life without the rose coloured glasses I tend to think perhaps the big guy in the sky is all just some story.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
“Did you know hair holds memories.” The sound of buzzing clippers echoed off the walls of the bathroom as you sat before the mirror. Jake stood behind you with those big emerald eyes you loved so dearly, looking at you with a sympathetic look of understanding and support. “In some cultures people don't even cut their hair because it would upset the gods.” Jake could see the tears in your eyes as you looked at him through the mirror, understandably rambling to somewhat buy yourself some more time. “Medusa's hair was alive, there's certain styles linked to different cultures and full hair cutting ceremonies in–” If Jake didn't interrupt now you would have gone on forever. You had a habit of information dropping in situations where nervousness got the better of you. Not that Jake ever minded, he just knew if he didn't get ahead of it, you wouldn't stop. That would ultimately lead to you sitting in silence when the information swirling around inside her head had all been said. Panic would begin to rise inside your chest, the air would soon get thin, the room would suddenly get a little hotter and before you could even realise you'd be in the midst of a full blown panic attack.
The last time Jake witnessed such a thing was when Sam had colic.
“Honey–” Jake cooed as he turned off the clippers he held in his hand, only to place them down on the countertop to rest his hands on your shoulders. “Noone is forcing you to do this, if you don’t wanna cut your hair we don't have to.”
“No–” You sighed. “No, I want to do this, it's just a lot.” You tried to explain. “It's probably one of the only things I still have control over.” Jake understood, it would be hard not to. After all, he wasn't heartless. If he could Jake would have taken this all away, he would have given anything, including his own life to take your pain away. “I just hope I don't have a weird shaped head.”
“I'm sure you have a really nice scalp dear.” Jake chuckled as he massaged your shoulder tenderly. “And look, if you want my professional opinion, I think you’ll make an awesome live action Mrs. Potato Head.”
“Jacob!” You tried to hide your smile as you felt your cheek heating with a hume so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “You’re cruel!”
“But I made you laugh.” Jake countered through a shit eating grin, that signature Seresin smile you loved so much. The very one all three of your children had inherited from their father. “That's all that matters, now–let me work my magic alright, I've got you.”
“You’re probably a worse hairdresser than you were a husband–” It was a low ball, but Jake took it like a champ as he reached out for the clippers. The buzzing was almost immediate as he used the pad of his thumbs to complete the electrical circuit. With the tool now in full gear, Jake chuckled as he looked at you with fake shock and horror casted across his face.
“Oh now who's being cruel huh?” Jake watched as your eyes followed his hand that held the clippers. “Technically we’re still married Honey, you still have my last name.” He mumbled under his breath but still loud enough for you to hear, seemingly trying to keep your attention on what he was saying rather than the clippers approaching your head.
But–you moved:
“Should we cut my hair with scissors first?”
“Y/n–” Jake sighed as he once again turned off the clippers and placed them back down on the side of the sink.
“No no no I'm not trying to stall, I just don't want you to accidentally scalp me when my hair gets caught up in the shaver.” Jake saw your point, for the hair you did have left it was pretty thick and full of life still. He held the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes and let out a sigh. Not in frustration towards you, but in defiance of his new quest.
“I'll go ask the nurses station for some scissors.”
“Thankyou–” Was all you managed to say back before Jake stepped out of the bathroom attached to your hospital room. The Christmas lights still flickered in the dimly lit room, seemingly consuming the entire room in bright blues, greens, reds and yellows. Even in sickness you couldn't help but to lean into the christmas cheers.
It hit Jake in that moment as he rounded out of your hospital room that he should get you something small to open when you wake up from surgery. The hospital has a gift shop right? Perhaps some flowers and a small gift you could keep with you during chemo. Maybe a book or a– *Thud*
Caught up in his own train of thought as he made his way to the nurses station, Jake ran straight into someone coming out of the elevator. There were two very distinct things Jake noticed as he came back into the reality around him. Those distinct things being that the man he’d run into was carrying not only flowers, but a small gift. Huh, uncanny.
“Sorry man, my bad.” The man apologised almost immediately after the mild impact.
“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” Jake responded with a polite smile his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” Jake reached out to shake the guy's hand, in retrospect he should have kept walking. Jake really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions.
The most paranoid fantasy Jake could think of would never have prepared him for the name that the man spoke next as he took Jake's hand in his.
“Jensen–”
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
“Okay, I'm ready.” Neither Jake nor Jensen knew if you had mentioned either one in conversation, so, respectfully, both men chose to play the fool. Neither one really wanted to ask. Neither Jake nor Jensen wanted to be the one to open that can of worms.
When Jake returned with the borrowed scissors in his grasp–he acted as if he hadn’t just met the man he assumed was the very Jensen in your contacts.
“Last chance Honeybee–” Jake cooed as he leaned in to kiss your cheek. “Are you positive?” He asked with a smile so pure it made your heart skip a beat. “I’m all in with you, just say the word and we do whatever you wanna do.”
There was a momentary pause in the conversation. Jake's questions lingered in the air around you, it was hard not to get caught in the moment, get lost in the emerald eyes looking at you through the mirror. Jake stared you down as you shifted in your chair to look at him. He saw no hesitation in your eyes as Jake followed your gaze, searching for any sign or signal that could indicate that the next few moments were about to be a mistake.
“Honey—“ Jake tried to heed the warning lights flashing before his very eyes as you closed the gap between the two of you. Jake stood leaning over your right shoulder, looking longingly at your lips. “Don’t do anything stupid now.”
“Loving you is stupidity—“ Was all you said before you let your lips softly connect with your husband’s. Jake kissed you back with enough love in his heart to knock the wind right out of your lungs. The fleeting moment was broken, however, when Jake pulled away. The idea of another man kissing you on his mind, what was this guy's deal? Jackson? Jason?
“Come on Mrs Potato Head, hand me those scissors—“ Jake chuckled, hiding his own insecurities about the man he’d unintentionally met in the hall. You took a second to keep up, but as you licked your lips to savour the taste of Jake's signature vanilla chapstick, you nodded and handed him the scissors.
“I’m ready.” You sighed, once again looking back at your own reflection. “Let’s get this over with.” Change is an inevitable part of life, but that fact didn't make the current circumstances any easy to process. “Do you think that there's gonna be a place for me despite my inability to believe in a higher being?” Jake understood what you were saying, but he didn't have the answers. “I'm starting to wonder more about if there could ever be a life after death.”
Clumps of hair in small sections fell to the tiled floor around you as Jake worked his hands through your hair. Cutting strands from your head like the local mower man cut grass. It felt like such a mundane task to complete, like this was an everyday run of the mill, average experience. But for you? This was a hard and confronting pill to have to swallow.
“I’ve spent my whole life not believing in religion, so who am I supposed to pray to to keep me alive Jake?” Jake saw the tears in your eyes as he cut your hair with caution and steady hands, he heard the small but audible sobs that escaped your lips as he switched from the scissors to the clippers. The buzzing all but silenced your cries but Jake knew this was hard on you. The tears that stained your cheeks clearly reflected your sadness, anger and the inner turmoil that had been engulfing your entire existence since your diagnosis.
“You don’t pray to anyone Honey, you’re stronger than this cancer could ever be.” Again, no one ever sits you down and prepares you for this. No one gives you the heads up about the possibility of one day having to shave your wife's hair off in the name of dignity and control. But as Jake ran the shavers across your scalp, leaving nothing but a small layer of fuzz in their wake, he saw just how much sorrow and pain was swirling in your eyes.
Jake thought to himself in that very moment: ‘I've been needing a haircut for a while now anyway.’
With one quick motion and in the blink of an eye, Jake was running the shavers right down the middle of his head. You really had to take a second to process what he’d just done, what your husband had just done right behind you.
“Jake!” The shrill that escaped your mouth was something unmatched to any emotion you had ever expressed before. “What are you doing?” The image of Jake shaving his head in solidarity would forever be burnt into your mind.
“You said it yourself–hair holds memories and we can make new ones together.” Jake cooed as he shaved off those golden boy locks you loved to run your fingers through. He suited the buzz cut a little more than you did if you were being perfectly honest.
With teary eyes and puffy cheeks you stood on weak legs. The simple gesture of a haircut meant the world to you, Jake knew that. He didn't want you going through this alone. If shaving his head with you brought you a sense of solace? He was more than happy to.
“Looks good–” You smiled as tears ran down your cheeks. Jake reached out to cup your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with the pads on his thumbs. “Mr. Potato head.”
“Consider us the founders of the Potato Head Society.” Jake chuckled as he leaned in to kiss your forehead. In order to cherish you the way you deserved, Jake had to be the bigger man here. He knew that a cloud of uncertainty loomed in the halls, one by the name of Jackson or fucking Jeremy for all Jake cared. But as he stood in the bathroom with you, surrounded in the locks of hair that had once been on your head, he knew damn well at the end of the day it was still his last name you chose to take. “Good thing you don't have an odd shaped head after all, it kinda suits you.”
“Would you still love me if I did?” You asked quietly, giving Jake an excuse to confess his love. Jake's lips were soon pressed softly and ever so tenderly against your once again in the blink of an eye as gentle hands still worked to soothe your stained cheeks.
It wasn’t a hard question to answer, nor an easy question to ask—but as Jake pulled away to rest his forehead on yours as he ran the pad of his thumb across your bottom lip, you knew it was an easy concept to understand:
“I’ve never, and I will never, stop loving you Honey.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~**
For as much as Jensen hated all things hospital related, over his past few years of treatment, he’d come to know these halls better than he knew the back of his own hand.
From countless radiation treatments, to endless chemotherapy sessions. Hours upon hours of remedial therapies and acupuncture sessions to stimulate nerve endings, Jensen was a man who was just about ready to pull the plug and live out the remaining few months he had, or less, from the comfort of his back deck.
He’d been poked and prodded, sliced and diced, far too many times to count on both his hands and for what? A few extra months tacked on top of a few years spent battling pancreatic cancer. No thankyou. Jensen had always had an optimistic outlook on life, until his life started to become the same bland halls and the same bland rooms, with the same bland doctors and nurses who all shared the same look of medical sympathy.
Jesen, for all intents and purposes, was ready to give up his signature status of being the resistant ‘pin cushion’. The student nurses could learn how to change cannula sights on the lady, Paola, who sat in the same chair for every chemotherapy session.
The last few days hadnt been too hot for the six foot one, brown eyed, brown haired (allegedly) man. His prognosis had been diminishing ever since he got the news his treatment was no longer as effective as it once had been.
The day Jensen was told he only had a few short months to live before his organs would begin to fail, even with treatment, was the same day he saw you crying outside the local doctors office. The Hermitage centre as they called it.
The last thing Jensen ever wanted was for his life to be meaningless, before he knew what he was doing? His feet were padding against the concrete as the psalm of his hands began to sweat inside his jean pockets.
“You look like you’ve just been told you’re dying?” As the elevator counted up the floors of which Jensen had to take from the ground floor of the Rhode Island Hospital to the oncology unit, he could vividly remember asking you that question. He recognised the look on your face because not ten minutes prior he;d been told the very same thing.
“I'd start to get your affairs in order, Mr. Hughs “ It hadn't been just a regular check up with his local general practitioner. But it had been the almost final nail in a long awaited coffin.
As the elevator dinged, Jensen took a few steps out into the bustling hallways of the oncology ward. Within seconds, he was met with a force so muscular it damn near knocked him back a few paces. But the cancer ridden ex fireman squared his shoulders and kept easy on his feet.
“Sorry man, my bad.” Jensen almost immediately apologies after the mild impact. He assumed that it was him that had caused the slight collision. His special awareness was pretty shot these days. The flowers he carried were almost crushed on impact, however he managed to save the bouquet of sweet peas, peonies and pansies.
“No worries, I wasn't watching where I was going, my bad, really.” The man responded with a polite smile Jensen could only assume his mother taught him about, the kind of smile you give to a stranger after mild inconveniences. “Jake–” like a slow motion car wreck, Jake reached out to shake Jensens hand. In retrospect he should have kept walking. Jensen really should have just let the interaction fizzle out, but he couldn't. He was too polite for his own good when it came to small interactions.
The most paranoid fantasy Jensen could think of would never have prepared him for the look of utter betrayal that smeared itself across the blonde headed aviators face as Jensen shook your husbands hand:
Summary: Jakes still trying to wrap his head around what’s happening with your health. Doctor Ignatii oversteps? And you settle in while Jake helps you write some of your newest book.
Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil.
Word Count: 4.3K
Author Note: My birthday present to you all is a new chapter of Was It Over. Once again I just wanted to say thank-you all so very much for all the love and support you have given me throughout this series. It truly means the world to me.
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The Pomegranate truly is the perfect symbol when comparing the differences between men and women. The enjoyment of a pomegranate is something that cannot and shouldn’t be rushed. Instead, it's something that requires patience and gentle hands. With deliberation and commitment comes the reward of its sweet, sweet flesh.
When rushed, there is failure to collect all the seeds. Many men sacrifice the collection of its entirety for the sake of saving time. They'd rather risk the loss of a percentage of the fruit for immediate gratification. What we often fail to consider is that there may be a reason for the dissimilarities between men and women. We tend to point out that the majority of men don't have the same attention to detail that women do instead of focusing on our individual strengths, and how they can balance and support each other.
Instead, you chose, for the longest of times, to consider that your husband was willing to learn something that perhaps didn't come instinctively to him as it did to you. It's the energy you put into cutting and deseeding the metaphorical pomegranate that represented your marriage, but Jake never seemed to want to learn how to carefully harvest all those beautiful seeds.
You and Jake both collectively brought so much to your marriage, you both had something to learn from one another in order to grow. But choosing resentment when you decided to step away from the man you loved more than life itself was never an option.
Because resentment always leads to isolation:
“Okay small steps for me Y/n.” Doctor Ignatii asked as he held your arms and stood before you. Everything hurt, everything felt wrong. Everything was stiff and out of place, but the sooner you were up and walking even if it was only a few steps here and there–the quicker your recovery would be. Having a stroke wasn't exactly defined as a step in your cancer treatment plan. No, it came right out of the left field and took you, your mother and your doctors by total surprise. “That's it, small steps.”
“I don't think I should keep going, it feels wrong.” Your body didn't feel like your own, the ground underneath your no-slip socks felt uneven. Your feet felt like lead–heavy and weak at the same time. Your head had maintained a dull ache since you woke up post surgery that hadn’t gone away. Overall you just didn't feel like yourself and it showed.
“Your neurological pathways need time to re-adjust to normal.” Doctor Ignatii was hopeful you'd have a pretty smooth recovery, his worry about any deficits post stroke was at a pretty low concern level just based on how quickly they were able to react to the stroke itself. “Give yourself some time, I'll touch base with the plastics department and oncology to discuss your pre-op notes prior to your mastectomy.” Doctor Ignatii explained as Jake watched with crossed arms off to the side as you took a few uneasy steps around the room littered with Christmas lights and decorations for the holiday seasons. “It's gonna be a slow but steady recovery, we just wanna make sure prior to your mastectomy that your body can handle the additional stress it's placed under while in surgery. The fact you're taking baby steps right now is a really good sign.”
“Can I have a shower soon by any chance?” All you wanted was to not feel sticky and gross. “Is that in the realm of possibility any time soon?”
“Only if you try to walk to the bathroom.” Doctor Ignittii replied with a quick wit you appreciated, he wasn't treating you like a sudden gust of a strong wind your be knocked on your sare and you truly appreciated the vote of confidence from your doctor. “But sure, I don't have any problem with you showering, maybe ask for some help?” Doctor Ignatii gestured over to where Jake stood just watching over you. He kept his respective distance but his eyes never left yours. He’s yet to leave your side for more than twenty minutes to grab something to eat, drink and take a deep breath. He was still trying to process how quickly things had changed.
“Happy to help.” Jake teased as he sent you a wink, the half sided smirk was prevalent across his flustered but composed face. “Respectfully.”
“Respectfully–” You replied as you stood on your own, Doctor Ignatti had stepped aside to let you take the lead. “You need to call our children and let them know you haven't abandoned them at their grandmother's house.”
“I should do that, shouldn't I?” Jake sighed, he'd been avoiding the call all together. With it being Christmas Eve Eve and your surgery still going ahead as planned, it was a call Jake wasn't looking forward to making.
“I think it might be a good idea–” You slowly but surely sat down on the edge of your hospital bed, the IV poll you were gripping for dear life pumped against the side before Jake stepped a little closer to fix the tangled wires and cords. “Thanks.” You smiled softly as you watched him work.
“I'll let you know how our pre-op meeting goes, Mrs Seresin.” Doctor Ignatti interrupted with a quick tight lipped smile. “And–” Jake raised an eyebrow as your doctor paused in his tracks. “Although probably unsolicited, I've seen too many families come through these halls to know time is a fickle thing, if your kids aren't aware of your current situation, I favour the side of full transparency, no matter the age.”
You didn't know how to respond so you said nothing and settled on a simple nod with kind eyes to match. Jake however, wasn't as graceful with his snarky growl. He was the very embodiment of a protective German Shepherd with his guard up.
“It's a good thing we didn't ask for your opinion then isn't it.” Jake snapped, he didn't mean to take his insecurities out on the man who had if nothing else saved your life.he was still trying to figure out who this Jensen guy was. But he did and it made you frown with shock horror that such a snarky comment would come from your husband's mouth.
“You’re right, I overstepped.” Doctor Ignatti held it hands up as if to say he was sorry. “I apologise, I'll be back later with an update for you.” You said nothing, you simply chose to remain silent until your doctor had left the room and silence had once again fallen over you and Jake.
“I didn't mean–” Jake wanted to say he didn't mean to be so snappy. That he really didn't mean to bite the hand that saved his wife, But you
“You meant it.” The tone you used broke right through the exterior of Jake's hardened shell. Despite his inability to make it known that all Jake was trying to do in that very moment was show a united front on your decision to keep your family, your husband and subsequently your children in the dark about your current situation—he still helped you back into bed, tucked your legs under the Blau and fixed your pillows. “And he’s right you know, whether we want to hear it or not the kids probably need to know why you left so abruptly.” Jake's phone had been ringing off the hook since he left his mother's house. Jasmine was persistent regardless if Jake was answering or not. Constant texts, missed calls, updates on the kids she knew he was thankful for despite his missing in action status.
“You wanna tell the kids what’s going on?” You and Jake hadn’t really discussed it, he was following your lead on this one. Jake didn’t want to overstep any boundaries you’d set he wasn’t aware of, or had unintentionally forgotten about. He was holding off on everything, telling his sister what the hell was going on, telling his mother more than she ever deserved to know, telling the kids their mum was a little sick.
“No—no, I wanna tell the kids, for now, that I’m just a little sick and that’s why I needed you here more than they needed you over the next few days.” You explained your view. “I don't want them panicking about me, they're young, too young to need to know the severity of the situation.”
“Not telling them doesn't make the truth any less real, Honey–what if we tell them and–“ Jake never got a chance to finish his sentence, he never got a chance to say that if you didn’t want to tell your kids he’d support your decision regardless if he agreed or not before you interrupted to explain where you were coming from.
“They don't need to know Jake, I can't tell them, I can't tell my children that I might be dying alright I just can't.” You were a little more harsh than need be, but the emotional weight of the situation was taking a toll on you. “But I wasn’t about to bite my brain surgeon's head off for offering a valid opinion on a rough situation.”
“You know what?” Jake cooed as he reached out to touch your cheek, the pad of his thumb caressing your soft skin. The gentle touch brought you a solace you'd never truly understand as Jake's emerald eyes swirled with all the love and admiration in the world. “You’re right.” Jake didn't want to argue, not now, not when he could tell your emotions were running high and life seemed like it was against you. You needed him in your corner, for better or worse. “I’ll call Jas, I'll tell her what's going on, full God's honest truth and then we’ll tell the kids that you're just a little sick.”
“Just a little–” You replied with tears in your eyes, they were pooling at your lower lash line, ready to spill and open the flood gates. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you.” Jake listened as the pad of his thumb worked to catch the falling tears that cascaded down your cheek. “I should have–you needed to know.”
“I understand why you didn't.” Jake sighed as he sat by your bed side. “I wasn't–” he began to explain but shortly after changed what he was about to say. “I put myself in a position where I could lose you, and I shouldn't have, you and me and whatever our marriage is right now isn't the priority so just know I'm not saying this to fix that.” Jake cooed as he felt his eyes watering. “Right now all that matters is that we focus on you and your health and making sure you are the only priority.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***
“I got you one of those pant by numbers kits and some lego flowers I thought you might be able to do to fill the time.” Your mother wore a fake smile so painfully obvious that it made your heart want to burst inside your chest. This wasn't and hadn't been easy on her, carrying the burden of being the only one who knew about your diagnosis. Now, as Jake sat by your bedside, your mother wanted nothing more than to tell him how thankful she was that she now had someone else to carry the weight with.
But Mary wasn't about to do that, no. She wouldn't make the situation about her. But watching her little girl go through something she wouldn't wish upon her worst enemy was brutal.
“That's really nice of you mum, you didn't have to do that.” Jake frowned momentarily when he heard you say that go to line. ‘You didn't have to do that.’ It was a sentence he hadn’t heard in a long time. You always used to say it, Jake just wasn't sure when you had stopped saying it to him. There wasn’t an awful lot of things he was going out of his way to do that would earn him a bashful or somewhat self deprecating response like that.
“I know, but I saw them at Target and thought they might keep you occupied.” Your mothers smile faded just slightly as she placed your presents under the small christmas tree that sat on the top of the small cupboard that could be used to house clothing and personal items patients brought with them. You hadn't paid much mind to unpacking, all you had managed was your toiletries. But your mother had gone above and beyond to make the space you were taking up residency in a little more homie. “How’re you feeling anyway?”
“I'm alright, a little stiff but Doctor Ignatii said that's to be expected, he’ll be back soon to help with the first few steps.” You knew your mother wasn't really prying about a health update, but more about a romantic one. Her eyes quickly darted to where Jake still sat holding your hand in his. He was afraid that if he let go that you'd disappear. Or worse. “A little shocked to find out my children are still in Texas but I'm sure given the circumstances I'll manage.”
“Well at least they're supervised and with family, that's all that matters.” Your mother replied as she pushed a little of your hair behind your ear. “Have you given any more thought about cutting your hair?”
“You were thinking about cutting your hair?” Jake finally managed the courage to jump into the conversation, he still felt like an intruder of some sort. He was still trying to process everything, the very idea that you were battling an aggressive form of breast cancer along with the fact you'd suffered a very recent stroke was all too much for his brain to comprehend.
“I'm gonna lose it all anyway.” You shrugged as you pressed your lips together in a thin line. “May as well get ahead of the curve and shave it all off before it falls out.” Hair holds memories, in some cultures it's even considered sacred. In some religions women cover their hair after marriage for only their husbands to see, others keep theirs pure and untreated by dyes. Some women of colour from countries across the world prefer to wear their hair in protective styles that give their hair longevity and life.
But you? You were losing yours. The keratin in your follicles had stopped reproducing, your follicles were dying off and snapping. It was a hard pill to swallow if you were being completely honest, but if shaving your hair off before you were subjected to looking like your daughters weird barbie doll was something that could help you maintain whatever dignity you had left, you were going to do it, regardless if you were slightly worried about your head being an odd shape. It beats you know, dying after all.
“Doctor Ignatii already took a pretty big chunk anyway from the surgery.” Your mother added. “Besides, it's a little more empowering to shave it yourself than losing it over time.” Jake understood, so he didn't argue. It was your choice at the end of the day. “Now, I'm not staying for too long, I thought I'd head back to yours, tidy up, make sure the house is in order for when you're able to go home.” Before you had a chance to argue or say she didn't have to, Jake was advocating on your behalf.
“Thanks Maz, that's perfect.” He smiled softly as the pad of his thumb rubbed against your hand. All you did was nod along in agreement, it did sound nice. Unnecessary in your humble opinion, but nice.
It wasn't long after that your mother was saying her goodbyes to the both of you for the day, being along with Jake wasn't awkward, but it did feel a little uneasy with so much still left to discuss. All the potential what if’s and could be’s.
“Can you please pass me my laptop?” You were the first one to break the silence that had fallen between the two of you, only the steady threthem of monitors could be heard amongst the thick silence.
“You still working on that book?” Jake asked rather tentatively, it was a touchy subject. If you said yes then that meant you hadn't had time to finish it before your due date. Jake knew he played more of a role in that then he’d like to admit, but the idea you were still working on the same book meant the separation truly hadnt boded well in your favour to focus on your career. For Jake however, it had opened up another career advancement. The Daggers.
“Uh yeah actually I am.” You sat up a little straighter in your bed and fixed up the blanket covering your legs. “I shelved it there for a little while.” The explanation truly was just that, you hadn't really had all that much time to work on a new publication while trying to raise three children on your own. “I picked it up again around August, just haven't made much progress with it with everything that's been going on.”
“Do you feel like sharing some exclusive details with your number one fan?” Jake was almost unashamed in his attempt at breaking down your walls. “Who knows, I might be able to inspire some creativity.”
“Oh you're my number one fan now are you?” You chuckled softly as you watched Jake reached into the drawer your mother had put your laptop and charger in. “And there isn't much creative freedom when it comes to writing a bibliography for true crime, unless you count ghoulish overkill and an absurd use of dark humour to cover up the truly graphic details of the world's most notorious crimes.” Jake smiled back at you as he held your laptop in one hand, the rose gold Mac with stickers randomly pleased all over the lid.
“Don't be fooled by the good looks Honey, I can read a sentence or two without stuttering.”
“Could've fooled me.” You fired back without hesitation as Jake faked a shot to the heart. “You really want me to read some to you?” Jake hadn't asked about your work in months. You'd stopped wondering if he cared about your career path before you decided to walk away from your marriage to focus on yourself. At the end of it all you left believing Jake had stopped caring about the things that made you simply you.
“Yeah, of course, I mean–it would be nice to read some new material, after all–the copies I have back in North Island are pretty much falling apart from how much I tend to flick through them.” Jake had never been a big true crime fan, that was until you published your first book.
“Wait, you have my books? Which ones?” The revelation made your heart skip a beat inside your chest, so much so that Jake saw it on the monitor. It made his cheeks flush a crimson red at the very thought he could still make you this flustered.
“Uh–” Jake started as he came back down to sit beside you, opening up your laptop and placing it on the small but practical table that could go over your legs. “I have all five.” Jake would read the dedication every night before he went to bed and every morning before he went to work. They were all slightly different but the sentiment remained the same. His favourite one to read was:
“Dedicated to the man who loves me so, thank you for your service, I love you with all my heart.”
Jake knew deep down, after all the two of you had gone through, after all the hurt he’d unintentionally caused with his emotional disconnect, that the dedication in your newest book wouldn't be for him. It would be for your children.
“You've never told me this before?” Jake should have told you, he should have been more open, more honest about his feelings. He shouldn't have lost sight of what was truly important to him and it definitely shouldn't have taken losing you to realise how important you were. Jake had never known female rage until he dealt and fought with a woman who was feeling undervalued, unappreciated and unwanted.
“I should have, I know that now.” It was only a small gesture at the bottom of Everest itself but Jake knew now was the time he had to really put the effort in, to show you he truly cared, that he really did love you in sickness and in health. “I'd really like to sit here and maybe I can read what you've written so far out loud so you can just rest–and if there's anything you wanna change, I can do it for you.”
“Oh you don’t have to—“ Your sentence trailed off into nothing as you looked into your husband’s eyes, searching for an ounce of hesitation or burden in them. But all you saw were those emerald green eyes staring back at you with all the love and warmth in the world. Jake wanted to do this, truly. “Sure, yeah if uh—I’d really like that.”
It felt nice to be taken care of, to be valued and loved. But it wasn’t enough to undo the damage that Jake had unintentionally caused. He was going to have to put the work in, fight for you as much as you had to fight for your life.
“Okay.” Jake smiled as he cleared his throat and turned the laptop his way. “Alright Honey, let’s go from the top shall we?”
“Take it away Mr. Ghost Writer.” You cooed as you settled into your hospital bed and found a comfortable position, if anything you were feeling rather tired. Maybe you’d be able to get some more sleep soon—that wasn’t such a bad idea.
“In the early hours of January 1996, after an evening spent celebrating at Club Bayview in the Perth suburb of Claremonth, 18-year-old Sarah Spiers called a taxi to nearby Mosman Park. But when the cab arrived, she’d already gone. Sarah was never seen again.” Jake read out loud as you listened and laid there wondering if this was all some Lavender Haze to mask the reality that your marriage was over:
Or really how Jake wanted the two of you to be. Together again, in sickness and in health.
***~***~***~***~***~***~***
“Just tilt your head a little.” Jake was being as gentle as he ever could be. “Let me know if I'm hurtin’ you.” The steam from the shower filled the bathroom as you sat on the little shower stool. The hot water cascaded down your naked self taking all the grimy sticky remanence from surgery away with it.
“Feels perfect.” You sighed in relief at the feeling of being clean once again, Jake stood behind you washing your body with a small lofa in soft circular motions. Under the water with you. It wasn't awkward to see each other so exposed, however, given the circumstances, you felt incredibly vulnerable. “Can you get my neck a little more?” Jake obliged to your request and moved the soap free suds around your next. It felt surreal, otherworldly even after the last few days. You let the silence fall around you as you reveled in the sensation of Jake's hands roaming your naked body in a not so sexual way. It felt nice to be touched in such a way that made you feel safe.
“Jake–?” Your voice sounded softer than it did just a few moments ago, your eyes lingered over to the sink where in the corner of your eye, you could see the clippers you’d bought with you to the hospital in preparation for this very moment. Originally you were going to do it yourself, then, you thought perhaps you could ask your mother–but now, sitting under the stream of steady warm water with Jake helping to cleanse your weakened body post surgery– you knew you had to ask him.
“Yeah Honey?” Jake cooed as he washed your body, being ever so careful to not knock and bump the cords and wires that were still attached to your arms. Doctor Ignatii had assured Jake they could get wet–but he was still sus.
“Will–will you shave my head?” The silence that followed as deafening as you felt Jake's hands nearly came to a complete stop. “I just–I dont think I'm strong enough to do it myself.” Again, Jake's silence was all consuming. “You don't have to if you don't want to, I uh–i understand if it’s too big of an ask–I can always ask mu–” Before you could go off on a tangent, Jake was interrupting as he came around to kneel before you.
“No, no Honey, of course I'll help you.” Jake made sure to clarify. “It's just–it's just no one ever prepares you for your wife to ask you to do something like this.” You saw the sadness in Jake's eyes, the understanding and compassion. “But of course, yes, I'll do whatever you need me to and if being your barber is something you need then consider me the best in the biz.”
Your heart couldn't contain itself inside your chest as you reached out to caress Jake's scruffed cheek. For whatever reason, you couldn't stop the worlds from escaping your lips.
“I love you–” The Pomegranate truly is the perfect symbol when comparing the differences between men and women. The enjoyment of a pomegranate is something that cannot and shouldn’t be rushed. Instead, it's something that requires patience and gentle hands. With deliberation and commitment comes the reward of its sweet flesh.
Jake knew it was the environment, the situation and the fear of being slowly taken by disease, but he couldn't help but to lean in, cup your face and kiss you like he’d missed you everyday since you left him back in January. The slow pull of desire ached in Jake's chest as your tongue danced with his: and as he pulled away to let his forehead rest against yours? He allowed himself just a single moment of reprieve:
Summary: Jake can’t accept why you’d keep such a life-threatening situation a secret and you can’t accept why he suddenly seems to care.
Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil.
Word Count: 4K
Author Note: Smaller chapter, but still the same level of pain. Let me know what y’all think about the confrontation of it all.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
“The fuck?” Bradley Bradshaw hated the festive season. He wasn't a Christmas guy. He didn't have an awful lot of family to celebrate with over the consumerist holiday that was shoved down your throat before mid November. He just wasn't the kinda guy who wanted to get involved in the festivities.
“Who's calling you at ten at night?” Natasha Trace would probably end up regretting her decision to sleep with her co-worker and friend, but the drunken antics she and Rooster had gotten up to earlier in the afternoon ended up with a trip back to his house.
“Its Hangman–” Bradley answered the naked woman beside him as he sat up in the bed he truly never should have brought her back to. He knew Phoenix would end up regretting her decision to sleep with him. A pity fuck they’d both end up calling it. “Hello?”
“Are you busy?” Jake asked as he continued to watch you sleep. It had been a few hours since he got to the hospital and about two since he told your mother to go home for some much deserved rest.
Bradley looked over his shoulder to see Phoenix rolling over, her chest laid flat against the mattress that smelled so much of Bradley. He sighed, peeled the covers up from over his legs and swung them over the side.
“Nah, what’s up? Everything good?” The pair hadn’t always been on good terms, but ever since Jake had ultimately risked his own life to save Roosters, the two had been able to put their differences aside and let bygones be bygones.
“I don’t think I’m coming back after Christmas.” Jake started as he let his head lean against the far too uncomfortable hospital chair he’d been sitting in for the better half of four hours. “Somethings’ happened and I dunno what I’m gonna do man.” It was the tone Jake was using that made Bradley frown as he slipped into his sweats.
“Something happen to one of the kids, man?” Rooster has never heard Jake sound so defeated before. But as he padded down the hall Rooster had to stop in his tracks as Jake explained your current situation. He read the notes right from your chart, from the type of cancer to the stroke you had, how he tried to tuck your hair behind your ear and it fell from your scalp. How he’d tried to win you back, how you’d slept together, how you told him you still loved him yet thought divorce was the best way to go about things. Jake emptied his heart on Bradley sleeve and Bradley didn’t know how to process the pain and anguish Jake was obviously feeling.
“Are you at the hospital right now? With Y/n?”
“Yeah—yeah I just sent Maz, Y/n’s mum home to rest and shit.” Jake ran his hand across his face as he watched the IV bag containing your sedative get smaller and smaller. He wasn’t sure how you were going to react when you woke up and saw he was here. “I’ll probably go between here and her house, the kids are at mum's place and I can’t imagine what they’re thinking knowing that we’re both not there.”
“I could uh—“ Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t a Christmas guy, but he was a family first person. “I could fly out? Maybe get the kids from your mum's house and get them back to Rhode Island? I’m not doing anything this Christmas so I’ve got time.”
“Bradshaw,” Jake nearly sobbed. “I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.”
“It’s nothing, really, you’re one guy man, stay with your wife, or ex wife? I don’t really wanna get into your business but just text me the details when you can and I’ll organise your kids.”
“I’ll text you my sister's number.” Jake replied. “She’ll help you out.” There was no real reason to argue, Jake knew that once Rooster had his mind set on something he was gonna do it.
“No worries, I’m uh—I don’t even know what to say man, I’m so sorry, no one deserves to go through this.” It hit Rooster too close to home, his mother died when he was seventeen from Breast Cancer very similar to yours. It took her quicker than doctors had ever anticipated.
He just hopes you wouldn’t meet the same untimely fate.
“Anything man, anything you need, I'm there.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***
Time seemed more like an artificial construct as Jake watched Lydia disconnect the line that had been slowly feeding your body with a moderate range sedative. The young nurse looked guilty as she tried to avoid eye contact with the man she had accidentally told private patient information to.
“She’ll slowly start to wake up over the next hour now that she isn’t slowly taking on the sedative.” Lydia explained. “She might be quite irritable and loopy but I’ll have her surgeon come by for assessment once she’s up.”
“When I was about your age I accidentally hit one of my commanding officers' car while pulling out of the car park at the Naval Base I was stationed at.” Jake mentioned as he let himself curl up in the world's most uncomfortable chair. “Point is we all
make mistakes, don’t beat yourself up about it, but I’d definitely be a little more cautious when reading patients emergency contacts.”
“You’re wife’s a pretty strong woman Mr. Seresin.” Lydia smiled. “I hope that despite whatever reason she was keeping all this from you, that she’s happy you’re by her side when she wakes up.” Jake chuckled as he slightly readjusted himself and pulled his hood over his head. There were a plethora of ways you could react to his presence running through his mind, he hoped though, that the young nurse who’d accidentally filled him in on your current fight was right.
“I hope so too kid, I hope so too.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***
The slow steady rhythm of the many monitors currently tracking your vitals were the first sounds you heard as you slowly but surely woke from what you could only describe as one of the deepest states of complete and utter rest you’d ever experienced.
Next it was the multi coloured Christmas lights that were hanging around your room. The reds, greens, yellows and blues that reminded you of nineties joy were the first things you noticed in the dimly lit hospital room you knew you were in.
The third thing you noticed wasn’t a sound or an object, but it was the all too familiar sleeping man curled up in the most awkward position imaginable next to your bedside. Jake, your Jake. Sleeping with his mouth open wide and his arms crossed over his chest.
“Woah—“ You groggily cooed as you felt the presence of another man checking your vitals beside you. “Whatever the hell kinda drugs you’ve got me on right now Doc has me seeing my ex husband.” You smiled ear to ear as you kept looking at Jake, sleeping, a little bit of drool even tainted his chin as his arms remained crossed and his hood covered his head. “This shits strong as.”
Doctor Ignatii continued reading and recording your vitals the more you came to, he knew, judging by the time you’d finished your dose of intravenous sedative and how cognitive you were, you’d come to realise in about two, maybe three minutes indefinitely that it wasn’t the drugs making you see the mirage of a man at your bedside, but in fact the real deal.
“Mrs Seresin, can you follow the light for me?” Doctor Ignatii asked with a smile as he clicked on the small but effective flashlight at the end of his pen. He was gentle with the way he handled your head ever so cautiously, holding your eyelids open one by one as you followed the light accordingly. “Can you count to five?”
“One, two, three, four, five—“ You mumbled out. Jake heard your voice as he stirred next to you and shot up with a gasp that startled you. He looked like a deer caught in headlights as he sat upright and wiped the dry drool from his chin.
“Welcome back to the land of the living Mr Seresin, I've seen a lot of ways people have tried to sleep in those horrid chairs but I’ve never seen that particular position before.” Doctor Ignatii chuckled to himself as he clicked his pen light off and placed it back in his top pocket. “Alright Y/n, wiggle your toes and touch your nose for me.” All you did was stare at your husband. Why was he here? Who told him? “Mrs Seresin, wiggle your toes for me please.” Doctor Ignatii was a little firmer in his request, he wasn't sure if you were just distracted or if you simply couldn't comply with his request because you couldn't feel your toes.
But when you finally did wiggle your toes, when you finally brought your index finger up to your nose and when you finally spoke, Doctor Ignatii knew that in the next hour or so when he got you up and walking, that you were going to be just fine.
“What are you doing here?” Your voice was rather horse from the sedative but you were able to ask Jake that all too powerful question that sliced his skin clean open like one of the sharpest knives never could. Doctor Ignatii knew that he had to give you some space when he was finished assessing your ability to wiggle your toes he cleared his throat. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I'll give you two a moment alone, but Lydia will be in shortly.” He explained before making his way out of your hospital room. The silence was deafening as Jake cleared his throat and looked anywhere but in your eyes to begin with.
“Jake–” You immediately asked again as you tried to sit up a little straighter. “What are you doing here?” Jake ignored your initial question and instead pressed his tongue into the middle of his cheek. His blood was boiling, he was so full of rage that you hadn’t told him you were sick that he couldn't think straight now that he knew you were awake and talking. You were supposed to be the mother of his children if at the very least. He felt like you had an obligation to disclose medical diagnoses that could alter the course of your children's lives. Right?
“You have cancer and you didn't tell me?” Jake frowned as he spoke through a tired growl. “You have cancer and you didn’t think to mention it at all, not even a downplayed version of the truth? You just–” Jakes reaction wasn't something that surprised you, but his anger did. That anger was something you hadn’t seen in a long time, anger born from love and compassion. An anger so pure it rivalled empathy itself just in a different font. “You just negated the entire thing? Jesus Christ Y/n! You have–”
“Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma.” You interrupted Jake as tears welled in your eyes. “I know, I found out back in November, I hadn’t been feeling all that well since around March.” You kicked yourself everyday for not getting yourself to a doctor sooner, but with your separation, work, the kids, you just decided to self diagnose yourself as an overworked mum who had little to no time for herself. Finding the time to see a doctor was nearly impossible, it was only when you found that lump in the shower you panicked. “Jake I–”
“You–” Jake clenched his jaw as tight as he could, you swore he could have chipped his bottom teeth he was clenching that hard trying to control his frustration. “You don’t get to fucking do this to me do you understand?”
“Excuse me?” You questioned as Jake stood up from the chair he’d been cramped in for the better half of the last twelve hours. “I didn’t choose to do this willingly Jake are you fucking kidding me?” It may have come out more aggressive than Jake had intended it to, but his heart hurt so much he swore he was having a heart attack the more he looked at you in the hospital bed connected to machines and wires that told him what your heart was doing and what your blood pressure was. “I didn't choose to get fucking cancer!”
“No, no you didn’t Y/n but you chose not to tell me about it.” Jake sighed. “Am I really that bad of a person that you can't tell the father of your fuckings kids that you might be dying? Stage three!? I'd understand if you had a scare and didn’t mention it or a bad rash but stage three?” Jake spat as he walked around your hospital room like he was looking for a way out of this whole mess. “That’s closer to a death sentence than it is to a malignant mass!”
All you could do was listen, you couldn't run this time. You had to face the man who broke your heart more ways than one as he raised his voice and walked around your hospital room with his hands on his hips.
“You, you had a stroke too.” Jake's voice softened as did his eyes, the realisation had hit as the immediate love filled anger that clouded his judgement faded. The misguided anger that he might truly be losing the love of his life had begun to wash away as the sadness crept in.
“Yeah–” You didn't hold it against Jake, you'd had more time to process this than he did. “Apparently the chemotherapy was just causing havoc to my nervous system and caused a clot that travelled from my leg to my brain.” You said it with a shrug, like it was no big deal. Jake's eyes widened at the idea of something that was meant to help you had done so much damage. “I was given a pamphlet, strokes were a side effect, but I just didn’t think it would happen to me you know.”
“Honeybee–” Jake cooed as he came back over to your bedside. “I–” There was a distinct tentative pause in the way his hand automatically went to slip into yous, but even though Jake second guessed his own judgement there for a split second, he still placed his hand in yours and reveled in the way you squeezed him back. “I can't understand why you wouldn't tell me about this.” Jake had tried to understand, truly he did. He thought about it alot on the plane–all the ways in which he’d ever let you down. He understood he was a shitty husband, or had been, but this was life or death.
Jake almost wished he never asked why and had instead just silently accepted the fact you decided not to loop him in on what was probably your biggest health complication since Samuel was born. He almost wished he hadn’t asked because the way you looked right into his eyes as your bottom lip quivered and your eyes watered with such a heartbreaking cry of anguish that ripped through your chest, Jake wished he hadnt fucking asked.
“I didn't tell you because I just didn't think you’d care.” You cried violently as Jake helped you sit up. “I didnt–I just didnt think youd, you'd care about me.” Your cries were muffled into Jake's shoulder as he held you, he wanted to climb right into the hospital bed with you, but he couldn't. So Jake compromised and leaned over just enough to wrap you in his arms and rub small circles into your back as you buried your face in his chest and shoulder. “I didn't think you’d fucking care–because you haven’t cared about me in years!”
“I have never stopped caring about you.” Jake cried too, he couldn't hold it in any longer. “I have never and I will never stop caring about you Honey.” It was a hard statement to believe especially with what the past four years had been. “I promised you in sickness and in health, I'm here, I've got you.” Jake cooed as he tried to soothe you, your cries of pure anguish for your own situation made him want to die. What more could he possibly do to ease this burden from you, what could he possibly do to take the pain away. “I'm here, I'm right here.”
“You don’t have to pretend.” You tried to calm yourself down as much as you could. “Please Jake you don’t have to pretend to care about me anymore, I’m not yours.”
“No you’re not—“ Jake nodded in agreement as he pulled away to wipe your tears, you looked like hell but he wasn’t about to tell you that. To Jake you were still the most beautiful woman in the entire world, the only woman he ever needed, wanted. “But I’m still yours alright, you have me and I’m not pretending.” Jake wiped the pads of his thumbs across your cheeks, he tried not to tug at the oxygen tube feeding into your nose. “I’ve got you yeah? You don’t have to do this alone.”
“I never wanted to do any of it alone.” You sobbed again, it was all too much. Jake knew what you meant by all, you never expected your marriage to fall apart. Neither did he. “I can’t do any of this, I’m so fucking scared.” If someone had asked Jake three years ago if his marriage would fall apart around him, he would have stood up and punched whoever had said such blasphemy in the mouth. But here he was.
“You’re okay.” Jake tried his best to console you, he did know what else he could do in the moment beside to hold you. The kiss he left atop your forehead was so pure and full of love you swore it sent an electric shock through your body, the same kind of electricity you felt when you slept with Jake the night before you said goodbye to your kids. “I'm not leaving your side alright, “I’m here, I've got you, I can't lose you this way– I wont.”
Jake knew this love was a burden that you both shared. The both of you were just two sinners who can't atone from a lone prayer. Two souls tied, intertwined by pride and guilt.
***~***~***~***~***~***~***
Jake was true to his word, he didn't leave your side for the rest of the day. He stayed right by your side hand in hand, just sitting there, talking, not talking, sleeping. All that mattered was that he was there.
“What do you mean Bradley Bradshaw offered to get the kids from your mum's house?” You thought for a split second that perhaps you hadnt woken up. Or maybe you'd actually woken up in some parallel universe where your husband never forgot how to love you and he didn't have a disdain for the man who gave him his Call Sign out of rage. “Bradley Bradshaw? As in Rooster?”
Jake couldn't help but to smile, there was so much he had to fill you in on, the two of you hadnt really sat down and spoken uninterrupted without the kids since January. Sure there were family functions and times where you and Jake had to coexist and coparents. But he never really saw a reason to tell you all about his time in North Island. You were with him when he was called to Togun the first time, there wasn't any need to really rub your nose in the fact he was called back again. After all, a part of the reason you left was because Jake prioritised his work life over his home life, more specifically, you.
“Would you believe me if I told you I saved his life?” Jake couldn't erase the grin that grew ear to ear from his face as he watched your eyes light up with shock and excitement. He missed this, the gentle moments.
“You did not–” In all the time you had known Jake while he was a loyalist to the United States Navy, he had never once put a toe out of line. Never pushed back, never rocked the boat. He had a goal and that goal was to reach the top. You couldn't do that while drawing unwanted attention to yourself.
“I did,” He chuckled through that very grin that you swore was permanently pinned to his cheeks. “Even went against orders to do it.” The look of pure shock on your face told Jake all he needed to know, you didn't believe what he was telling you.
“Who are you and what have you done with Jake Seresin?” You chuckled softly as Jake ran his thumb across your hand. “You? Going against the brace? Unheard of.” A lot of what made Jake, well, Jake–was that he loved his job.
“Trust me Honey I never thought I'd see the damn day either.” Jake sighed, he still couldn't believe how much his time in North Island had changed him. How it broadened his perspective on all the things that made him simply him. “But he was stuck in a pretty tight spot, so was Mav, our Captain.”
“Well–” You smiled as you readjusted yourself in your bed. Unbeknownst to both you and Jake, Lydia was watching just out of frame from her spot at the nurses station. She couldn't help but to notice the loving, all encompassing look the two of you shared. Perhaps her small mistake that usually would have been a carrier ending HIPAA violation wasn't so bad after all. “Look at The Hangman go huh, who says he's always leaving people out to dry.”
“Oh I could still name a few–” It was organic the way you and Jake fell into a rhythm with one another when the pair of you allowed each other to do so. “But yeah, he's gonna fly in, get the kids for us because I really don't want them there for too long without at least one of us there and bring them back to your mums for us.”
“Is she alright with that?” As always Jake knew you would think about everyone but yourself when the only person you should have been thinking about right now was you. “What if she–” Jake cut you off with a simple shake of his head.
“I already organised it.” Jake explained softly, his thumb never stopped stroking your hand as he held it. “Your mums gonna take the kids while we figure all this out, I don't want them with mine.” It wasn't that Jake didn't love his Ma, he did. But the idea of her having the kids for an extended amount of time gave him stomach issues he couldn't handle. “I saved his life, I trust him to escort our three terrors back here.”
“Have you met our kids? You asked with an all knowing look that Jake caught right away. Maybe Rooster wasn't the best person to call on, he had zero experience with kids, let alone Jake's twins and two year old.
Jake knew that you knew there was a darkness in the distance, but in the moment while everything felt normal, you both laughed together knowing exactly how the flight with your kids would go for Bradley Bradshaw.
“You’re totally right–” Jake cooed. “He might need to bring his flight helmet as a safety precaution.”
Summary: Jake makes his way back to you after finding out the truth. While under sedation to give your brain some rest, you remember the good times and the bad with your husband.
Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil.
Word Count: 4.6K
Author Note: These chapters keep getting more and more heartbreaking. I can’t even deal. Why did you guys let me do this to y’all?
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
November 22nd
The dim glow of your TV was the only thing in the house that was giving your home any sort of light. The kids had all gone down well, both Lucy and Lennox had swimming practice after school which meant that they were down and out for the count before you even got from their beds back to the door. Sam was easy to get to sleep, he always had been. He was just a naturally sleepy kid.
The gentle knock against your front door startled you, but didn’t shock you. You knew exactly who it was. It was the same guy who'd given you a tissue to dry your tears, the same guy who sat beside you and kept you company during one of your lowest moments. It was the guy that had turned an overly depressing core memory into one that showed a little humanity, sympathy and understanding.
“Happy Birthday!” Jensen cooed as he stood at your door with a plastic bag full of Chinese takeout containers full to the very brim. “I didn't know what you liked so I think I got one of everything.” You stood at the threshold of your home just staring at the man who was on your doorstep, who’d insisted on buying you dinner. When you had informed him of your three children, Jensen said he’d have it delivered.
But he didn't specify who’d be delivering it…..
“I hope you weren't expecting a tip.” You smiled as you let Jensen into your home, the unimaginable amount of scattered children's shoes made it look like you were raising a family of caterpillars, but Jensen didn't mind the mess. He understood, his sister had two little girls around about the same age as Lucy and Lennox.
“But I brought you cheesecake as well?” Jensen smiled back at you in the darkness of the dimly lit hallway. “Can’t have a birthday without cake.”
“I don't even remember the last time someone brought me any form of cake.” You sighed as you politely took the cheesecake in its cake box. Jensen frowned in response as he watched you hit the light switch in the hallway that led to the kitchen.
“Didn't your husband ever buy you a birthday cake?” He called out as he followed you deeper into your humble abode. It was a simple question that carried far too much weight than you were ready to truly unpack. You'd told Jensen in one of your many conversations since you first met about how you and Jake were separated due to circumstances that weren’t fair to either one of you. Jensen never pressed for more information than you were willing to give.
“He used to.” You shrugged. “I can't remember the year he stopped, hell–I can't really even pinpoint when he stopped caring but eventually he did and soon enough my birthday just became another day.” It was hard to admit, but Jensen made opening up about your marital struggles easy, you never really confided in anyone about any of it. He had a non-biased opinion. “But I loved Jake, I still do, at the time I guess I didn't care that I was getting a fraction of what I deserved because a fraction of him was better than nothing at all.” The tears were there, they were ready to spill over your lower last line. But you never let them fall as Jensen sat down at your kitchen bench and opened up the bag of chinese food. “But it all got too much– or too little, I suppose.”
“Have you told him about the cancer yet?” Jensen asked softly, he wasn't pressing, he was just asking.
“I still dont think I’m going to–he probably wouldn't care, I mean he forgot my birthday.” Again you shrugged it off like it was no big deal. “I highly doubt he’d care about some cancer diagnosis.”
“Are you sure he wouldn't care? Or have you just convinced yourself he wouldn't because it hurts less to believe he doesn't care than it does to believe he does?” When you answered Jensen's heart sank. He saw the tears in your eyes, the look of heartbreak that reflected from your very soul. The longingness in your expression. He saw right through the wall you tried so hard to protect yourself with. He saw it all. Which is why when your voice cracked and your support beams held together by caffeine and your need to keep a normal routine for your children in place, faltered, Jensen sighed.
“It didn't take much convincing–”
“Y/n–”
“How was Chemo today?” You tried your best to change the subject as you grabbed some cutlery. The chair beside Jensen at your kitchen counter looked awfully comfortable.
“Consider my follicles fried.” Jensen chuckled as you handed him a spoon. “Now don't change the subject, we’re talking about you and this husband of yours, who, I'm convinced, is a few screws short of a hardware store.”
“Oh yeah? Why's that?” You weren't sure if you wanted to know, but what you did know was that Jake wasn’t here. He’d sent you a message earlier in the day but you were yet to respond. You felt that if you replied it would open a floodgate of vulnerability. But soon enough Jensens words had you in a freefall of wondering if it was truly over between you and Jake–
“Because I don't think anyone who's lucky enough to love you would ever put themselves in a position to lose you.”
Or not.
***~***~***~**~***~
“Look left for me?” Doctor Ignatii spoke as he shined his little pen light in your eyes. “And right?” You did as you were told although you just wanted to be left alone. “Count to five for me?” You almost rolled your eyes as Doctor Ignatii stepped away and walked closer to your feet.
“One, two, three, four, five.” You slowly counted. “Do I get a gold star?” Doctor Ignatii didn’t take your foul attitude to heart, he dealt with people like you every day—over the years you tend to develop pretty thick skin.
“Possibly, if you can wiggle your toes and touch your nose?” He asked through a smile as he began to feel your feet. “Wiggle please Mrs Seresin.”
“This better not be my audition tape for the Madden Brothers Circus.” You didn’t mean to take your hostility out on the doctor who had saved your life, but there was a small part of you that wished he would have just let the blood clot do its damage. You did what you were told once more and wiggled your toes and touched your nose. “Look at me go.”
“Well—“ Doctor Ignatii chuckled to himself as he filled out your charts on his iPad. “You don’t seem to be showing any immediate deficits post surgery, I’d like to give your brain a chance to rest for another ten to twelve hours before we get you out of bed for a little bit of a walk.” You listened to what your doctor was saying as your mother came back into the room, you didn’t know it but Jake had just landed and was heading right over.
“Does that mean I get more of these awesome drugs?” You asked playfully, your mother even swore you were flirting. Doctor Ignatii was very handsome with brown hair and dark skin. He smiled at your forwardness but nodded in response. He was also used to this.
“We’ll give you another sedative to make sure you're able to rest, you’ll probably feel like you got hit by a bus when you wake up but it’ll give us a clearer indication if you’ll face any deficits going forward.”
“You reckon breast cancer’s a deficit?” You couldn't stop thinking about the dream you had about Jake. it felt so real, like your own personal rolodex of memories was trying its best to show you the good times. For whatever reason that may be you had no idea, but, you really had to ground yourself in your own reality. Jake wasn't the Jake from your memories anymore, although you desperately wished he was. He was now the Jake who couldn't remember your birthday or to fill your Christmas stocking on Christmas. He was the guy who let you peel your own oranges after he’d done it for so many years.
He was the guy who had fallen out of love with you.
“I do, but your double mastectomy has been rescheduled for Christmas Eve. So what better way to wake up on Christmas morning knowing your chance of kicking cancer's ass just went up by thirty five percent?” It was your turn to smile at Doctor Ignatii as he ended the conversation about your cancer at that. “I’ll send in a nurse to admit the sedative, mum? She’ll be out for a minimum of ten hours while on the IV, you should take the time to get some rest too.”
“Sure thing Doc.” Your mother answered as she watched him walk away. “Were you flirting with that man?”
“No harm, he’s seen the inside of my brain, can’t get more intimate then that can you?” You were probably putting on a braver face then you felt but your mother could tell you were nervous about the sedative..
“I’ll stay with you for the entire time you're sleeping.” She cooed as she pushed your hair behind your hair. She noticed how stands fell almost with the gust of her fingertip. The chemo was killing your hair follicles. “You won’t be alone.”
“Thanks.” Was all you said as Lydia came into your room ready to set your IV drop up. “I hope you’ve done this before, kid.”
“Absolutely Mrs Seresin.” Lydia chuckled, she felt a lot better after a full eight hours of sleep. “I’ll just get this sorted and you’ll be good to go.” As Lydia set up your IV, you had just rough energy to send one message to a dear friend you thought should know about your current state. Your mother watched as you typed out a really quick message with one hand.
You: “Had a stroke, in hospital, surgery rescheduled.”
“Promise you’ll stay?” You asked your mum one more time as you saw her reading a text. A text from your ex husband telling her he was about twenty minutes away and running off the five hours of sleep he got before his world got flipped on its head.
“You’re not going be alone sweetheart.” Your mother answered rather cryptically. As your eyelids grew heavier and heavier. “You’re not gonna be alone.”
***~***~***~**~***~
“I'm here.” Jake had taken the next flight back to Rhode Island that he could, he didn't have time to waste when it came to getting back to you. He was tired, emotionally exhausted from everything he had learnt of your condition and dishevelled beyond belief. He was sure someone threw a dollar down at him while he was sitting on the floor at the airport next to a charging port. He looked so distressed and dishevelled that someone thought he was homeless.
He kept that dollar though.
“Okay, ask the main reception to point you in the direction of oncology and we’re in room 306.” Your mother replied over the phone, Jake had called her about fifteen minutes after you had been administered your sedative.
Jake felt his heart in the back of his throat as he took the elevator up to the level the lady at the reception desk in the main lobby of the Rhode Island hospital had told him to go to. Oncology equals cancer, you had cancer, breast cancer, you had a stroke, strokes can kill you, cancer can kill you.
Jake had thought about nothing else since he got on his flight, the idea that you were sick, that you were so sick you couldn't even tell him broke his heart more than you leaving him ever could. There was once a time where Jake thought you could tell him anything, that you were able to come to him with any problem you had or were facing.
He couldn't pinpoint exactly when you stopped telling him things, or more importantly when he’d stopped listening. Jake couldn't help but to blame himself for feeling like he’d somewhat put you into this situation where you felt like you couldn't rely on him to step up when you needed him to. You were sick and you needed support, he was supposed to be that support, but instead you kept him in the dark like he didn't deserve to know you were ill.
Maybe he didn't deserve to know, but either way Jake was walking towards room 306 where your mother had told him to go. He brought his duffel with him, Jake made no plans to leave your bedside for the duration of your stay. However long that may be, he was gonna be by your side.
And the second he got to the threshold of your hospital room, Jake Seresin forgot what it was like to be able to breathe on his own accord.
“Oh Honey.” He cooed as his bottom lip quivered, your Mother tried her best to remain a strong presence but at the sight of Jake crumbling under the weight of the idea he’d lose you twice over made her eyes water. “Oh my sweet girl.”
***~***~***~**~***~
“Jake!” You shouted out throughout the house as Lucy and Lenny watched over baby Sam as they ate lunch in the living room.“Jake!”
“What?” Jake called back to you from the back deck where he was busy doing absolutely nothing but enjoying a beer with his feet up and his sunglasses on. He just needed twenty minutes. Sam had been a handful today and ever since Jake got home he’d wanted nothing more than to use his body as a jungle gym.
“The faucet in the ensuite won’t stop leaking, can you please tighten it before you get too comfortable.” You asked as politely as you could with a soft smile.
“Sure, yeah I’ll put it on the list.” Jake shrugged your request off like it was nothing but another chore you were commanding him to do. When Jake didn’t budge, you crossed your arms over your chest and pressed the issue further.
“It’s just that I’m trying to work on my new book and I can’t concentrate with the dripping.” You were in the middle of your latest project. A new book proposal your editors were waiting on.
“I said I’d get to it Hon, just—why don’t you try writing somewhere else besides your desk? Or better yet, shut the ensuite door?” Jake couldn’t see the rage burning in your eyes when he told you to basically deal with it until he could be arsed to get up.
“Jake please?” You begged, it wasn’t the first time you’d asked Jake to fix the leaky faucet but it would be the last. It was one the few final straws that broke your back before you decided enough was enough and you couldn’t stay in your marriage any longer. “I need you to do this one thing for me so I can work in peace.”
“If it’s so important that it needs to be fixed right this second Hon just fix it yourself?” Jake argued back as he took a sip of his beer, it had been a long week for him and he needed a moment to relax. “You know how to fix a leak.”
“I already tried!” You shouted back loud enough to finally have Jake taking his glasses off to look at you properly. “I’m trying to work, I’ve had the kids all week and I need to get these last few chapters done before next Friday and you go back to work on Monday.” You saw the look Jake gave you, one of annoyance and frustration, like you were some kind of parasite trying to ruin his day off to relax and enjoy some rest and rejuvenation before Monday rolled around again.
“Honey if you let me sit here for twenty minutes I will fix the fucking leak for you.” He tried to hide his disdain but you could read it through the lines on his face. “I’m not sure why you can’t just write somewhere where you can’t fucking hear it but I’ll fix it the minute I’m done drinking my beer.”
“Alright.” You pressed your lips together and tried not to let your anger boil over. “Alright I can live with that.”
“Hallelujah, she can live with compromise.” Jake sassed as he took another sip of his beer. You chose not to respond as you headed back inside the home you both shared with a feeling of under appreciated value looming over your head. What did Jake mean by compromise? You did so much and more for him, why was it such an issue that you’d asked him to fix a faucet.
He never did get around to fixing it like he said he would. Twenty minutes turned to two hours, which turned to two days, months and eventually It was only when the both of you decided to sell the property when you said you were leaving, that he noticed the leak was never fixed.
You never did finish that draft, the book that remained unpublished and half finished. You kept the google doc on your laptop and sometimes you thought about picking the project back up. But you never did, you never had time to, not while you were on the cusp of divorce and raising three children all on your own.
“I uh—I fixed the faucet.” Jake sheepishly told you as he made his way into the kitchen to see you packing plates and bowls and cutlery into moving boxes.
“The faucet I asked you to fix back in October?” You replied harshly while trying not to look at the man who forgot where you should have been on his priority list. “Glad I compromised on that one for this long.” You hissed, it had only been four days since you told Jake you were leaving, that you were moving back into your mothers place with the kids until you found somewhere to live.
“Honey—“
“Please don’t call me that.” You asked rather simply as Jake's heart broke before you. He was losing his wife, his kids and didn’t know how to fix what he’d unintentionally broken.
“Don’t go, we can fix this, I don’t want you to go.”
“Well unfortunately this isn’t about you Jake.” You tried to keep your voice down so that you wouldn’t alert the kids to your argument. If there was one thing you weren’t going to do it was fight in front of your children and subject them to that environment. “Tell me, it’s January right now isn’t it?”
“Yeah?” Jake wasn’t sure what you were getting at as he watched you pack the boxes of things you were taking with you.
“When’s my birthday?” You asked like he should have known that answer off the top of his head, because he should have and he did.
“Novem—oh fuck Y/n no hold on a minute.” Jake couldn’t find the words he wanted to say at that moment, how could he forget your birthday? He missed it entirely and you said not a single thing about it.
“My stocking was the only one empty at Christmas, not a single present under the tree was mine, you know why that is? It’s because for four years I’ve brought my own damn presents and gotten my own fucking birthdays cake, you don’t give a shit about fixing a goddamn fosset so I can focus on work let alone the little things.” You hissed before you tried to calm yourself down and get back to packing. Jake just stood there speechless looking like he hadn’t slept a wink in days. He hadn’t, not since you told him you were done and that you needed a break.
“I can fix this, please.” Jake was begging you to stay, he didn’t want to lose the one person who meant more to him than life itself. “Just don’t leave me.”
“There isn’t enough room for me in your life Jake, and instead of being selfish and trying to change you I’d rather let you go to be yourself. People change.” You shrugged. Staying now would have killed you, Jake felt you slipping through his fingers in real time as he watched you wrap up the mugs you were taking in old newspaper. “I sure never thought the man I married would change into someone I don’t even know.”
***~***~***~**~***~
Jake was at a loss for words when he stepped into your hospital room. The Christmas lights that shimmered around the room were a stark contrast to the plethora of machines that were scattered around your bedside.
“I thought since she’s sleeping the blinds should be shut.” Jake could just barely make out what your mother had told him as she rose to greet him with open arms. He couldn’t peel his eyes off you for even a second as the woman who had become his second mother took him in a warm loving embrace. “She’ll be out for a while sweetheart, they gave her a sedative to help her brain rest.”
“How long?” Jake asked as he held your mother tight.
“About ten—maybe twelve hours, she only just started the drip.”
“Oh—okay, yeah no that.” Jake tried to hold himself together but the damn was breaking. “That’s probably for the b-bet—oh god.” Jake Seresin had never felt his entire body crumbled into someone the way he felt his body crumble into your mothers arms.
“Oh my boy it’s alright, she’s alive, she’s gonna be okay.” Your mother tried her best to soothe Jake's cries but she knew it was coming from a place of love and undeniable sadness. “Here, sit down, I’ll go get you a coffee and something to eat.”
Jake took a seat next to your bedside and immediately reached out for your hand. He knew you were under and wouldn’t know he was there but he still brought your palm up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your hand.
“Oh Honey I’m so sorry this is happening to you.” He sobbed quietly as your mother stood behind him. “I’m so sorry I didn’t know.”
“She hasn’t told anyone but me Jake, not her friends or her brother.” It was hard to process the sight before him, the love of Jake's life surrounded by machines, hooked by cords and wires and monitors that told him although your eyes were closed you were in fact, alive. “I don’t think she wanted you to know because she’s just so scared despite how she might put on a brave face.”
“Or she thought I wouldn’t care.” Jake mumbled as he reached out to make sure your hair was resting behind your ear, part of your head had been shaved from surgery, but Jake never expected the hair he tried to move back behind your ear to fall out at his touch. “Oh my god—“
“She’s been on oral chemotherapy since her biopsy came back cancerous, she needed you to take the kids so she could start more aggressive IV chemo.”
“Her hair’s already falling out?” Jake had never felt this way before, so rendered powerless. He’d taken a life before and saved many, but watching you right now was the most powerless he’d ever felt. Jake caught the sight of your phone flashing with a new message with a name he didn't recognise. There was no time to ask you about the message he saw, but jake knew maybe, just maybe, you had lied when you told him there was no other guy.
Jensen: “Oh shit, I'll swing by once I'm out of the woods.”
“Aggressive cancer needs aggressive treatment sweetheart.” Your mother leaned in to kiss the top of Jake's head. “I’ll be back, coffee and a sandwich will do you good.”
“Thanks Maz.” Jake sighed as he kept your hand up near his mouth as he leaned his elbows on the side of your bed. “Oh Honey, Honey, Honey—what have we become?”
***~***~***~***~***~***
Your honeymoon was the most beautiful trip you’d ever gone on. Jake Seresin was very much a summer man. He loved when the sun was shining and the water was cool and the beers were as refreshing as they ever could be.
The resort in Bali that the two of you were staying at for the entire two weeks was nothing but picturesque with stunningly gorgeous gardens and extraordinary architecture. The pool you were sitting on the edge of was just one of the many pools that you and Jake had yet to visit. He stood on the ledge of the rock waterfall and smiled ear to ear.
“I’m not resuscitating you when you slip and hit your head!” You called out through a beaming smile.
“Reckon I could clear a backflip?” Jake asked childishly as he climbed to the very top. His abs looked far too perfect to be real as he stood tall and flexed just for you, his wife.
“Jake Seresin, don't you dare!” You warned as you looked over your sunglasses at your childish husband. He was everything any more, how you got so lucky you'd never understand. The two of you had decided on a small elopement style wedding that saw only a handful of your closest family members in attendance. The both of you saw no need for over the top extremities and thoughts of dollars spent on a single night. You thought why not use the money on a holiday getaway, your dream honeymoon. After Rodney had gone on his happiness never ends tangent, Jake wished the two of you had just gone down to town hall.
“Live a little Mrs Seresin!” Jake shouted as he took the leap of faith and backflipped off the very top of the man made rock waterfall that cascaded down into the crystal clear pool. The two of you were the only guests in sight which you were so thankful for when Jake came belly flopping down into the water with a crisp slap.
“Oh!” You cringed hard as your husband hit the water. “That's gotta hurt the ego buddy.” You giggled as you watched Jake swim under the water closer to the edge where you sat just relaxing in the smallest bikini known to mankind. “Jake?” You asked as he crept closer and closer under the water. Your eyes never left his swimming silhouette until he was jumping up right in front of you to rest his elbows on the edge of the pool right in front of you.
“My execution was a little off.” He grinned as you leaned in to give him a kiss. Unbeknownst to you though as your lips pressed against your husbands, his hands snakes around your waist to quickly drag you into the water where Jake needed you to be. With him, forever.
“JAKE!” You shouted as you fell into the pool. Jake couldn't contain his laughter. Thank god he remembered you knew how to swim.
“Yes Honey?” He cooed as you resurfaced with a gasp.
“You’re a child!”
“Uh no–I'm not.” Jake made sure to correct you as he pulled you closer under the water. His hand explored your ass as he wrapped your legs around his waist and held you up against him. You could feel his hard on pressing against your core, it wouldn't take much at all for him to slip out of his trunks and into you if he wanted to.
“But if you want I can show you how they're made?”
Summary: As panic consumes Jake after finding out about your current medical condition, Jake calls your mother to fill in the gaps. Nurse Lydia escapes being taken to her supervisor and Jake lets loose on his mother who tries to stop him from leaving.
Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Overbearing mothers.
Word Count: 4.4K
Author Note: Okay Sick!wifey maybe there is another guy. Or not, who knows. My guess is a platonic friendship that will ultimately end in heartbreak.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
November 2nd
“You look like you've just been told you’re dying?” It was a voice you didn't recognise that pulled you out of the bottomless pit of worry you'd fallen into as you sat on the edge of the raised garden bed just outside your doctor's office. “It's okay, you were probably just told that so it's alright to look like your whole world’s just been flipped on its head.” The man shrugged as he came to sit beside you with his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
“Sorry, sorry–” You shook your head as you wiped your tears and dried your face, probably as patchy and puffy as ever. “Are you a doctor here?”
“Me?” the man smiled as he pointed to his chest with a scoff. “Oh no, no I'm uh–I’m a patient I guess.” The man corrected you as he watched you try to fix yourself up. Before you knew it there was a tissue being held out of you to take.
“Thanks.” You smiled softly with gratitude and accepted the tissue the man wouldn't be wanted back anytime soon.
“No problem.” He nodded. “I saw you come out of Doctor Parsons' office, she's got a pretty rough gig don't you reckon?”
“I'll say.” You agreed, Doctor Parsons probably wanted to go into her profession to help people, but nowadays all it seemed like was she was dishing out hard to swallow diagnoses. “You’re a patent of hers too?”
“Unfortunately, Pancreatic– what about you?” The man asked as you tried to wrap your head around the idea of exchanging diagnosis with another human being.
“I uh–I was just told I have breast cancer.” This complete stranger was the first person you told, before you mum, before your ex husband, before your kids or extended family. This stranger who was sitting next to you outside your local doctors office was the first person beside your doctor to know you had cancer, that your cells were dying–that you were, in fact, dying.
“Oh yeah? What's the going rate for that one?” This all seemed too normal, too calm to be talking about. It wasn't the reaction you'd ever expected although you weren't really thinking about how people would react. “Sorry, I'm being too nosy.” The man beside you reached out and extended his hand towards you. “I’m Jensen, I don't mean to pry, it's just I don't see an awful lot of young people come into this particular doctors office and when I saw you rush out like your world had just been rocked I couldn't help but to follow you out here.” Jensen smiled as you shook his hand. “I'm also incredibly self aware of how creepy that sounds, so again, I'm sorry.”
“No no–” You chuckled as you let go of Jensen's hand. “It's okay, it's just uh, fresh I guess, like ten minutes ago fresh.” You tried to explain the best you could. “Y/n, my names Y/n–”
“Damn Y/n that's hot off the press–” Jesne pressed his lips together in a fine line, he understood what it was like to feel the crushing weight of the world on your chest. He was only in for a chat with doctor Parsons the day he met you. “Listen, in the hopes of not being too forward, can I give you my number?” He asked with a caution laced between his words, ready for rejection. “Not in a, I'd like to take you out sometime, although I wouldn't be opposed.” You had to stop yourself from looking as shocked as you were. Were you really being picked up out the front of a doctor's surgery? “But in more of an I understand what you’re going through kinda way and if you ever need an ear to vent to about the not so glamorous journey you're about to go on, I'd very much like to be that person for you, I always wished I had someone when I first started my battle.”
“Uh, yeah–” You couldn't help but to smile through the dried tears on your face. “Sure, yeah that sounds really nice actually.” WHen you unlocked your phone the realisation that Jake, your ex husband, had been the last person you called dawned on you. He didn't know, he could never know. He wouldn't care enough to want to know. And yet here this stranger was, willing and ready to listen. “And for the record maybe when the dust settles I wouldn't be opposed to the idea either.”
***~***~***~***~***~
“I vow to be your faithful partner in sickness, and in health.” Jake could hear your vow’s ringing out inside his mind as he raced around his childhood bedroom getting his stuff packed to leave. Your voice sounded as if you were standing right before him, plaguing his mind with haunting memories of promises he’d failed to keep.
“I promise to love you unconditionally, to honor and respect you, and bring you solace in times of need.” Your voice was like a hauntingly beautiful memory reminding him of the vows you’d promised each other on your wedding day, right after his father had told him that happiness was essentially a hallmark card scam. Jake could hardly focus as he tried to compose himself enough to just think about what was going on for a second—but then his own voice echoed around in his mind, the voice of his former self who hadn’t yet ruined his marriage spoke up through the darkness of his fuzzy and fragile mind.
“I take you for better or worse, in sickness and in health, in chaos and conflict, through heaven and hell.” Jake felt an anger so deep and overwhelming that he stood from his twin bed and walked a few quick paces across his room to where his closest door was. The animalistic growl that left his body when Jake slammed his fist into the wooden door woke his mother who was sleeping soundly a room or two down the hall. She hadn’t been woken so abruptly like that in years. Not since her children were young adolescence.
With his busted hand and a pain in his chest he could only describe as emotional turmoil, Jake stumbled back over to his bed and picked up his discarded phone. He mulled over the decision for a few seconds before he went through his contacts to find probably the only woman who could give him more of the story.
Your mother, Mary O’Riley. Or as Jake affectionately called her for the better half of your relationship, Maz.
Jake's thumb lingered over her contact for a few seconds before he decided that yes, yes he needed more information. He needed someone to tell him this was all just some sick fucked up prank. He needed someone to tell him that you were in fact, alright, and that you weren’t lying in a hospital bed right now, without him there to hold your hand and tell you everything would be okay.
He’d promised you in sickness and in health.
Jake listened with anticipation and dread as the phone rang against his ear. It rang and rang and rang until finally at the very last second she could—your mother picked up the phone while she sat at your bedside.
“Jacob—“ He heard her coo into the speaker. “You—“
“Tell me she’s not sick Maz.” Was all Jake said. It was stern and filled with heartbreak. “Please, tell me right now that she’s not in the hospital right now.” Your mother could tell Jake was holding back tears through gritted teeth as she turned her head over to the nurses station to see Lydia almost hyperventilating over her mistake. “Maz! FUCKING TELL ME MY WIFE DOESNT HAVE BREAST CANCER!”
The sudden outburst made your mum jump nearly out of her seat as she pulled her phone slightly away from her ear, but it didn’t surprise her. Jake loved you so much, it was only natural he’d be in a state of shock finding out the way he had.
“Jake, sweetheart, I need you to sit down for me.” Mary cooed softly with a sincere expression of empathy. “Please, just sit down and I’ll explain what’s going on.”
***~***~***~***~***~
Lydia had never felt more stressed in her very short lived career. Once she had hung up the phone with who she now knew was probably your ex husband, Lydia's immediate plan was to come clean to your mum as she sat by your bedside. Luckily, your condition post op was pretty good all things considered and instead of taking up another room in the ICU, your surgeon said that it would be best for your recovery to be placed back in the room you would see out the next few weeks of chemotherapy in. There was no escaping the oncology ward, not even a stroke could save you as it seamned.
“Miss O’Riley?” Lydia’s voice shook as she walked into your hospital room to see you sleeping in a drugged out haze of pain relief post op. You weren't expected to be awake for another few hours or so to allow your brain time to rest. “I need to speak with you for a moment, if you have a second.” All of this was going on around you without your knowledge. And quite frankly you wouldn't have wanted to know anyway– I mean, who really wants to be told that their nurse accidentally rang your husband and violated your privacy accidently? Certainly not you.
“Is something wrong with my daughter?” Your mother asked as she held your hand, watching at the monitor told her you were stable, that your heart was beating and that you, despite the odds, would survive another day.
“No, no, your daughter seemed to be responding well post surgery–” Lydia's voice still shook with nervousness for the reaction her actions would invoke. “It's just that I’ve uh–” Lydia was only young, she had so much left to give to the healthcare industry, one mistake couldn’t end her career before it had even started could it? “I accidentally called your daughter's husband, I automatically assumed he would be her emergency contact because he was listed as her husband and–” Lydia tried to get her explanation out as quickly as she possibly could before your mother had a chance to speak. “I'm so sorry, I told him about her current medical condition.”
“Oh god.” Your mother groaned as she looked back to where you laid peacefully unaware that Jake now knew about your whereabouts and health status. “She didn't want him to know, at least not yet anyway.” Your mother explained as she sighed and ran her hands over her face.
“I'm so sorry, I just assumed and before I knew he was asking what the hell I was even talking about and then I looked further down the page and saw that you were listed as her emergency contact.” Lydia was currently seeing her entire career flash before her eyes. All your mother had to do was request to speak to her supervisor, request that she report she violated HIPAA, but she didn't. Your mother simply nodded and accepted the fact a young girl who was only just starting out had made a mistake wasn't life threatening.
“It's alright, just uh, he’s going to come, if I know that man he's going to be on the first flight here so as my daughters medically proxy, can you please adjust her visiting list and add Jake Seresin to the list.” Your mother knew Jake would be calling any minute now and that he knew there was no vacation away. Now that he knew what was going on. Mary fished her phone out of her handbag and sat it on your bedside table in anticipation. She was almost going to set a timer just to see how long it would take her son in law to call.
“You–you aren't going to report me?” Lydia was at this point, in tears. She was so overwhelmed that she could barely see. Your mother felt sympathy for the young woman and really didn't want to be a part of whatever reprimanding could come of a simple mistake. So, she simply shook her head, looked back at her phone for a fleeting moment before she turned to look at you and finally back to Lydia who couldn't have been more thankful for the words that came out of your mothers mother.
“No dear, no I'm not going to report you, mistakes happen–” Your mother pressed her lips together in a fine line as she reached up to touch your cheek with the pad of her thumb. “My daughter knows that all too well.”
***~***~***~***~***~
“Please, just sit down and I’ll explain what’s going on.” Jake listened to what Maz had said and he did what he was told. He had always respected your mum and her natural born wisdom that Jake clung to through the time he had known her. “Are you sitting down?”
“Yeah, yeah i'm sittin.’”
“Jake–” Maz sighed heavily into the phone. “Back in november when Y/n called you about taking the kids for christmas she was sitting in her doctors office.” Jake didn't speak, he listened carefully to every word your mother spoke. His head was spinning as his heart raced. Tears streamed down his cheeks as the realisation set in. “She’d just been told she has a very aggressive form of breast cancer– stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma.”
“Wh-why didn't she just tell me?” Jake knew that the two of you had never been more divided in your marriage, but he always thought that if you were sick to this level, that you'd call and he’d come running. Come hell or high water Jake was going back to Rhode Island to be with you.
“That's a question you’ll just have to ask her.” Your mother replied. “But she's not alone, I'm with her right now, she uh–had a stroke only about an hour after she’d been admitted to oncology, good thing we were already in the hospital when it happened or else it could have been a hell of a lot worse.”
“Maz–” Jake croaked out. “I don't know what I'm supposed to do.” He cried softly into the phone, it broke your mothers heart. “Tell me what I'm supposed to do.” He wasn't asking if he should get a ticket on the next flight out, no. No Maz knew exactly what Jake was asking her and again, it wasn't a question she held the answers to.
“You just have to show up for her.” Was all your mother was able to say. “I dont have the answers this time Sweetheart, I’m not sure how to fix what's broken between the two of you, but I wanna know how soon you can get here–” Your mother paused as she tried to hold back her own tears. “She's not in a good way, she needs her husband Jake, she needs you here.”
Jake remembered that phone call, the one where you initially asked him to take the kids for christmas. He should have asked more questions, should have pressed you a little harder for information. Maybe, just maybe if he did back then, you would have crumbled and told him the truth.
“I'll be there as soon as I can Maz, consider me on the next available flight.”
***~***~***~***~***~
in sickness and in health, in chaos and conflict. It was the only thing Jake could tell himself over and over again as he walked down the large staircase of his parents place. in sickness and in health, in chaos and conflict. Jake had one thing and only one thing on his mind, getting back to you.
“Jacob?” Jake froze as he got to the bottom of the staircase, his mother stood at the top, dressing gown pulled snug against her as she folded her arms across her chest and frowned down at her grown adult son. “What’s going on? It’s almost four in the morning?”
“I just got off the phone with Maz—“ Jake explained as he watched his mum walk down the stairs, her eyes tired from a restless sleep. Having a home full of children and grandchildren didn’t help. “Y/n’s really sick, she’s uh—“ Jake wasn’t sure he wanted his mother to know about your diagnosis before he’d truly had a chance to process it himself. So, he didn’t divulge. “In the hospital, I just need to get back.”
“Get back?” Janeen frowned in displeasure at her son's decision to leave. “What do you mean get back, you only just got here.”
“My wife’s in the hospital Ma, I need to go and make sure she’s alright.” Jake didn’t think he’d have to spell it out, but he did. “I promised her in sickness and in health, unfortunately she’s taken a turn for the worse and she’s at the very least right now the mother of my children, so I need to go and be with her and figure out what’s going on.”
“Y/n is a grown woman who can take care of herself.” Janeen reached up to touch Jake's cheek, however, before she could run the pad of her thumb across Jake's scruffed cheek, he pulled away in anger. “She decided that when she left you? Or don’t you remember what that woman put you through?”
“Ma.” Jake clenched his jaw under the dim light of the main foyer. “I love you, I do, but you need to stop disrespecting her.”
“Disrespecting her?” Jake's mother scoffed as she watched him pick up his duffel bag and head towards the front door. “What about the disrespect she showed this family? The disrespect she showed you when she was unfaithful to her wedding vows and left you! She took your kids away from your Jacob and what? You’re running back to her the second she gets a runny nose?” Jake was holding his tongue between his teeth as his mother followed him out to the cars, he’d already called a taxi. “Honestly I never in a million years thought you’d settle for someone so—“
“MUM!” Jake snapped abruptly, he wasn’t proud of raising his voice with the woman who raised him, gave him life, but my god did she need to back off. “SHUT, THE HELL, UP!” Jake hissed as he saw headlights coming up the drive. “I’m leaving my children here until I figure out what’s going on but so help me god if I get back and your attitude hasn’t done a full three sixty about my wife, the love of my life, you will never see her, or our kids, or me, again!”
Janeen remained silent as she watched the taxi Jake had called pull up to where they were standing. She watched with teary eyes as he threw his bag into the back seat and greeted the driver kindly. He was an older gentleman. Probably mid sixties.
“I will call you when I know more but you have to stop degrading her, I’m the one who drove her away.” Jake had wanted to say this since the first comment his mother ever made about you way back in January just after he’d told her the two of you were separating. Jake took his mother in his arms, he towered over the smaller built woman with graying hair. He let his chin rest on the top of her head and didn’t hold back.
“Just because you never had the courage to leave dad when he stopped loving you the way he should doesn’t mean you get to project your pity on my wife for doing what you always wished you should have.” Jake had never felt such a weight lifted off his chest and immediately knew that the chances of him being invited back for next years Seresin family Christmas was probably a long shot. “You should ask Jasmine about her new nanny.” Jake finished as he pulled away. “I heard she's a really good people pleasure.”
***~***~***~***~***~
“Ordinary streets, Extraordinary stories.” Jake read over your shoulder as you jotted down some ideas for your latest project. “Huh, I like that, it's sorta catchy.” He smiled softly against your cheek before leaving a gentle kiss in his wake. His eyes lingered down to your book proposal for your publisher and continued reading as you sat at your desk, glued to your laptop like a woman on an impossible mission against time. “This collection of stories centers on the idea of ‘accidental death’ and the upheaval caused in the lives of those who lost a loved one in this way.” Jake read outloud over your shoulder in the dimly lit office. “I'm starting to think I should sleep with the lights on at night.”
“One eye open will do.” You mumbled back as you re-read your last sentence and continued on typing like your husband wasn't trying to coax you away from your work. “I have a deadline to meet, so shoo fly, don't bother me.” You teased as Jake moved your hair to one side and began to kiss the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Seduction was usually his strong suit.
It was no shock to Jake that almost immediately out of college you started writing non-stop about the things you were most passionate about. He thought you'd stick it out and become some wildly successful fiction novelist. Perhaps lean into your fascination with dystopian hierarchy, but no. You really came out of the left field when you picked up a publishing gig to write and publish not one, but three true crime biographies. The little bookshop on firth you worked at were so overjoyed for you when you’d told them the big news.
“You are working yourself to the bone, Honey.” Jake replied softly as his hands trailed down your stomach to feel the small but swelling baby bump that was growing bigger by the day.
“Says the guy still in his flight suit–” You fired right back without taking your eyes off the screen of your laptop. Your fingers worked fast to type the thoughts in your mind onto the screen before they were forgotten. If you let your mind wander too far away you'd lose your momentum. “Jake, I need to finish this chapter before bed.”
“No, no, what you need Hon, is to close your laptop and follow me to where I've run you a bath for your surely aching muscles, swollen feet and to ward off that impending cold I know you're coming down with.” Jake caught the way your fingers froze across the keys of your laptop at his thoughtful words, you hadn’t even mentioned feeling under the weather yet. “I heard you sniffling while cooking dinner–thought I better be proactive and try help you sweat it out.”
You felt the heat in your cheeks rising as a smile crept across your face. You looked down at the ring on your left ring finger and tried not to cry. You could have blamed it on the raging pregnancy hormones from the twin Seresin babies currently using your body as a host, but you knew it was just the overwhelming love you felt.
“You ran me a bath?” It was something you didn't know you needed until Jake had mentioned it.
“Not to toot my own horn or nothin but I lit your favorite candles too, even went as far as to put a few rose petals in the bubbles.” Jake watched as you spun around in your chair to face him with big teary eyes and an even bigger baby bump. “Gotta look after my girl, can't have the mother of my children feeling sick, now can I?”
“I'm intrigued to see what kind of special treatment I'll receive if I'm ever really unwell if this is what I'm getting for a runny nose.” You teased as Jake helped you up off your work chair. His hand went straight to the small of your back to guide you out of the study down the hall towards the bathroom where he had everything set and sorted for you.
“Hopefully we never get to the point where you're chronically ill.” Jake kissed your temple as he walked with you. “Never wanna see you sicker than a cold.” He explained as your eyes went wide with wonder and ore at the sight of your bathroom fully lit with candles. “But trust that I'll be right by your side, holding your hand through whatever may come.”
“You really didn't have to do all this for me.” You sighed as Jake started to help you undress. You watched him with love filled eyes through the mirror as his hands roamed your body, stripping articles of clothing from your pregnant silhouette.
“Nonsense, I'll always do things like this for you.” Jake shrugged it off like his actions were no big deal. To him at that moment they really weren't, he was just trying to help wherever he could. “But you should probably wake up now–”
“What do you mean?” A slow steady beeping broke through your mind as your body began to feel numb. “Jake—“ You frowned as the bathroom faded around you. “Jake?” You called out as you felt yourself feeling heavy and lethargic. “Jake—?”
“Sweetheart can you hear me?” Your mother asked as your surgeon tried to assess your ability to open your eyes. The small light that was shining in your eyes did little to cure your confusion.
“Jake?” You asked again as your eyes fluttered open, you groaned softly in annoyance to the light of the hospital room you woke up in. “Where’s Jake?” Everything was so blurry, so confusing, the last thing you remembered was getting ready for a bath, now you where here in a hospital room.
“He’s not here Sweetheart, do you remember what happened?” When you didn’t answer your doctor interjected to jog your memory.
“You had a minor stroke Mrs Seresin, lucky for you you were already on sight when it happened—do you remember why you’re here?” As you looked around at the Christmas lights that now decorated your hospital room and the small Christmas tree in the corner on the coffee table near the old recliner, you remembered.
“Oh.” That’s right you thought to yourself, you were separated. Jake didn’t care, not anymore. He’d stopped running baths for you years ago. “Oh, yeah—I remember.” You whispered before a single tear ran down your face.
no you don't get it I'm obsessed, the way jake finally stood up to his mom, the memories of warm baths, the literal tears I cried reading this that I couldn't figure out if they were sweet or sorrow, all of it 10/10
Summary: Jake spends time with his side of the family and your kiddos in Texas. The lies quickly come to an end though when an overworked and overwhelmed nursing student makes the wrong call to your not-so-emergent contact.
Warnings: Sick!reader. Breast cancer diagnosis. Jake Seresin x F!reader. Angst, hospital & medical inaccuracies. SLOW BURN ROMANCE/ Inaccurate medical information. Relationship turmoil. Overbearing mothers.
Word Count: 5K
Author Note: The last chapter update before Christmas! EEP! It's one of the moments we've all been waiting for too.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
It’s not too late you know—“ Jake watched as his father, the man who had many times throughout his childhood and teenage adolescents put his hands on him, poured himself a drink at the small but decent bar in the room Jake and his groomsmen were getting ready in. “To call this whole thing off that is.”
All Jake could do was press his lips together in a fine line of disappointment, he’d expected this. Hell if anything he was actually pleasantly surprised Rod had been able to hold off for as long as he could.
“I wouldn’t have asked Y/n to marry me if I didn’t want to marry her, Dad.” Jake sighed as he watched his father smirk and swirl his scotch around in the glass he held firmly in his ageing hand.
“You're not afraid of being reductive, are you son?.” Rodney Seresin was a hard man to understand, he showed little empathy towards others or emotion in general. Jake had never even seen the man drink anything beside single malt scotch. “I doubt you have more fear than the average asshole who decides to get hitched.” The almost self deprecating follow up did little to soothe the frown etched almost permanently onto Jake's face whenever he was around his father. “If anything you seem pretty fearless walking headstrong into a marriage that will surely end up on some poor clerks desk just waiting to be stamped as null and void.” Jake couldn’t find the right words to say as he watched Rodney take a swig of the amber liquor that would surely give the bastard liver cancer at some stage. But Jake mustard up the first few that came to mind.
“Okay, I think you’ve had enough to drink pops, you’re projecting your own fears about love onto me, on my wedding day.” Jake had a lot of big emotions about his father. Deep down Jake wanted him to be proud of the man he’d become, especially on his wedding day. But Jake also knew, after some pretty intense therapy sessions, that his father’s approval never really meant anything.
“Oh please, everyone’s scared of love dipshit—you learn that in your twenties, or at least I did anyway.” Jake's father grumbled as he went about pouring himself another drink. Only this time he reached for another glass to pour Jake one too. “It takes a special kind of lunacy to not be afraid of happiness and my boy do you fit the bill.”
“That’s so dumb—“ Jake scoffed, he wasn’t about to stand here and listen to a cranky old man project his beliefs, he’d done that all throughout his childhood whenever his father made comments about his mother only being good for two things. Those two things eventually evolved into three once Jake was old enough for the ‘birds and the bees’ talk.
“No you’re dumb and that’s exactly why you aren’t afraid of happiness.” Rodney huffed. “The smarter you are the more you know, happiness is a fucking trap that can’t and won’t ever last forever.”
“That woman out there is about to be my wife—“ Jake argued as he tried to contain his rage. The vein in his neck throbbed as he clenched his jaw and balled his fist to maintain his control. This guy wasn’t worth it, he never had been and never would be and the last thing Jake ever wanted was to be any way, shape, or form like his father. “You don’t get to tell me I won’t be happy marrying the woman I love, who I’ve been in love with since the first time I saw her. The woman, who mind you, is one of the most intelligent people I know, loves me for me! Without the goddamn last name or family values, she loves me for me which is something that you wouldn’t understand.” Jake would never forget this, that on his wedding day or all days his father felt it was necessary to get up on his soap box. “You’re unbelievable—“
“You really think that some aspiring author who’s biggest accomplishment is working a full time position at the local bookstore is the love of your life?” Rodney asked with enough conviction in his tone that Jake thought for a moment it was a genuine question—but as always it was used to mask a dig at your chosen profession. The real question was if Jake loved you for you, the answer would always be wholeheartedly.
“I’ve experienced more love knowing Y/n these last few years than you ever had with Ma and as much as I hate that for her I’m glad she doesn’t give two shits about you.” Jake argued, the anger had materialised across his face in a deep shade of red.
“Jacob, even if you consider this girl to be the love of your life It’s still going to end.” Jake stepped a little further forward to close some distance between himself and his father. The older man reached out to extend the amber liquid to his only son. The disappointment, the mistake. Jake reluctantly accepted the vessel. “It's inevitable, whether it be by the slow pull of disease, or the shock of loose footing on a hiking trail.” Rodney grumbled on as he eyed his son down trying to make a point that this day for Jake would eventually be as meaningless as his existence. “Or perhaps in your case it’ll be the corrosion of two different personalities that reshape each other until they’re no longer compatible.”
“You’re just a cranky old bastard aren’t you?” Jake couldn’t think of anything else to say to his father as his groomsmen filed back into the room all laughing and ready to lead Jake out to the ceremony.
“Maybe, but I’m a bastard with a point—happiness always ends.” Rodney smirked. “Think about it, the best case scenario, son, is that you both die at the same time.” Jake felt like he couldn’t breathe as his best man slapped his hands on his suited up shoulders. They’d just gotten back from their own first look with you. Some still had tears in their eyes. You were just that beautiful.
“You ready man? It’s time.” Jake looked down at the drink in his hand his father had poured him before he took the entirety of the amber liquid he hoped one day would be the reason for his father’s demise in his mouth. The eye contact between father and son never broke as Jake swallowed without a fuss.
“As I’ll ever be.”
***~***~***~***~***~
The Oncology ward was never your favourite place, hell it was never a place you thought you’d have to frequent, but the copious amounts of Christmas decorations that lined the halls and boarded the nurses station, put a smile to your weary face. Those decorations hadn't been there the last time you met with your oncologist to discuss your treatment plan. That meeting had felt like a lifetime go, but in reality it was only a mere few weeks.
“Okay so this is your room.” One of the nurses that had helped admit you as a patient to Rhode Island Hospital oncology ward smiled behind you as you and your mum carried your bags into the room. “Try to make yourself at home, we find that the more homely people make their room the easier the stay is.”
She was young, fresh out of college and still had those brown baby eyes that looked like they just wanted to save every person she came into contact with. High hopes that would soon come to realise that in life you couldn’t save everyone. Lydia was her name, or so the badge credentials that hung from her scrub top told you.
“Will do.” You smiled, nothing would make this easier. Nothing about this entire situation was or would be easy.
Lydia left you and your mother alone to settle your things, knowing you were about to spend a your holidays couped up in a hospital room made your heart ache for the holiday memories where your children were opening presents under the tree as you and Jake drank coffee spiked with Baileys at six am in the afternoon.
The ever looming crisis of impending death always made you wonder if last Christmas would be your last Christmas with your little family. It made you wonder if you’d ever get to spend a holiday like this with them again. Lucy and Lennox would turn seven in February, Samuel would be three in August, it dawned on you as you placed your toiletries in the bathroom, would you get to see your children grow? Watch them fall in love for the first time, learn new skills, develop into adults, get married, graduate. All the things you wanted to see as a mother.
“Where do you want me to put these?” Your mother called out as you turned around to see her holding up a string of multicoloured Christmas lights. You frowned at the woman who had been there for you through thick and thin with her childlike mannerisms and christmas cheer.
“Mum, why do you have Christmas lights?” You sighed softly like you were trying to be brave and take all of this on the chin.
“I thought that the least I could do would be to help decorate your room, you are in here over the holidays afterall, why not spend some time decorating while you can?” She beamed as she took you under her arm and wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “Brought you a little Christmas tree too.”
“You didn’t have to do that—“ You appreciated the festive atmosphere though and knew over the coming days that you’d appreciate the warmth even more. Right now though all you wanted to do was sleep.
“I know, but you’re my baby—“ She whispered back softly as you both looked around the blank space, the sterile environment that was about to be your home for the next three weeks at the minimum. “So I reckon we put them all the way around the room.”
“It’s gonna look like the first season of stranger things in here.” You chuckled which quickly turned into a throaty cough your mother frowned in worry over, but you reassured her you were fine once you caught your breath. “I’m fine, promise—“ The world felt off for a split second. Like tunnel vision was threatening to take you hostage out of nowhere–a blackening darkness loomed behind your eyes as spotted fragments came and left in the space of a few seconds. “Woah, that was a little odd.”
“Sweetheart?” Your mothers eyes nearly popped out of her head when she realised what was happening. “Do you feel okay?” It was a hard question to answer, it always had been. But right now it was harder than ever.
“I’m a little light headed, why?” It wasn’t anything unusual, but with the way your mum was staring at you like you’d just grown another head from your shoulder made you think it was something more serious. “Mum?” Something was off as you stood trying to figure out what was going on, your body felt weird, like a tingling sensation had tickled its way across your skin.
“The left side of your face is drooping.” Your mother explained as she put the lights down on your bed. “Your cheek is–”
“What?” You asked nearly in disbelief at her reaction to face slightly drooping opposed to your right. “What are you even talking about?”
“I’m getting the nurse, I think somethings wrong, I think you're having a stroke.” This couldn’t be happening, what more could life throw at you? First a breast cancer diagnosis and now a fucking stroke? “Stay here.”
“I’m literally admitted! Where do you think I’m going to go!” Your voice followed your mother out towards the nurses station as you tried to take a few steps, that’s when you realised though that the entire left side of your body had gone numb and tingly. “Oh god—“ Panic soon set in as you took a seat on your hospital bed. Tears flooded your eyes as an immense wave of anger and despair erupted out of your soul.
This wasn’t fair. None of it was.
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~
“Dad!! Push me higher!” Lenny laughed as Jake pushed him on the swing set in the backyard of his family’s home.
“Any higher and you’ll do a loop around man.” Jake chuckled but he obliged by his son's wishes and gave him a little more of a chesty send off when the swing carrying his son came back his way.
More of the Seresins spending Christmas and new years at home had since arrived and the festivities were well and truly underway. Jake watched as the sun set below the rolling hills along the horizon as his mothers festoon lights illuminated the back deck. They reminded him of Penny’s, the ones that always made the Hard Deck balcony seem so much brighter.
“When mum told me Y/n wasn’t coming this year I thought she was lying.” Jasmine called out as she made her way across the backyard to where Jake stood playing with his two boys. Sammy sat by his leg fixated on the tonka truck Jake swore was gonna leave the biggest bruise on his shin if the kid kept ramming it into him. “What’s going on with you two?”
“You know—“ Jake groaned, he was just about over the question as much as you were. Everyone knew, it wasn’t a secret Jake kept close to his chest. He knew he fucked his marriage up, he knew he was the problem. But it didn’t help when everyone asked what was going on between the pair of you over and over and over again.
It was like opening up an old wound over and over again. Watching the infection spread, watching the tissue decay and slapping a gauze on it hoping that it’ll heal in time.
But as you pointed out, time didn’t always heal old wounds and you were still very much healing from the damage Jake had caused when he lost focus and sight of the things that mattered most to him.
He didn’t realise you were gone until you had locked the door behind you and taken the key.
“I just thought it was a rough patch. I didn't think you guys wouldn’t spend Christmas together.” Jasmine Seresin was the youngest daughter of all the Seresin Siblings and Jake's most fearsome protector. She was always in his corner ready to go into bat for him just as much as Jake was for her. “What’s she doing anyway?” Jake assumed it was because of their close age gap, Jasmine always said it was because Jake couldn't throw a solid punch to save himself.
“Uh she’s going on a trip to Banff—“ Jake continued to push Lenny on the swing set his uncle had built over thirty years ago. It was a ridiculous thing with its over the top attachments and its stainless steel finishing. The slide used to burn the crap out of your ass if you went down the thing in the midsummer Texas heat. But it was still good as it was the first day Jake and his sisters took it for its very first spin. Now he was a dad, pushing his son on that same damn swing he cried on when he scuffed his knee playing tag. “Some friend's trip she was invited on.” Jake wished he knew more but he never wanted to pry. You had a private life now he wasn't privy to. “She hasn’t really told me much about it and I didnt wanna ask in case she thought I was being controlling.”
“Oh.” Jasmine had to stop herself from saying what she was thinking straight off the top of her head, but Jake knew her better than that. He could practically see the cogs in her brain twisting and turning and working together to formulate her next opinion.
“Say it—“ Jake encouraged. “Go on, I know you want to.”
“It’s just Banff can be awfully romantic this time of year and all.” She shrugged. “I wouldn’t want to tell my ex husband about a new fling that’s taking me to Banff for Christmas either.”
“I wonder how the conversation will go when she tells that guys she fucked said ex husband the night before she flew out then.” Jake smirked as he pushed his son a little higher to hear his screams of joy as Jasmine cupped her hand over her wide open mouth. “I don’t think there’s a guy.”
“Holy shit you two are so getting back together.”
“If mum had it her way I’d be divorced six ways till Sunday and have an open day down at the church for potential candidates she approves of.” Jake couldn’t have rolled his eyes any harder as Jasmine groaned and rubbed her temples.
“You’re her baby boy Jake, she’s obsessed with you—god she never did like Y/n all that much did she?”
“Nah—and I honestly think this whole separation has just made her delusional self more delusional.”
“I don’t want you two losing sight of the love you have for each other because of a rough patch.” Jasmine nearly warned as she bumped Jake's hip with her own. “You're too pig-headed sometimes.”
“Funny, I’ve got a wingwoman who says the same damn thing.”
“Sounds like my kinda gal.” Jake had to scoff at the idea that immediately popped into his mind. Phoenix was very much his sister's type and he knew that.
“You tell mum about Racheal yet?” What Janeen Seresin didn’t know about her youngest daughter was that she and her husband Eric, who stood grilling away with Jake's father, had recently decided that monogamy just wasn’t their thing. Racheal had started off as a babysitter for the couple's two kids, ten year old Stacey and eight year old Lewis. When Jake found out that Jasmine was bisexual he didn’t blink and eye, but he did spit his beer all over Rooster when she told him she and Eric where both happily fucking the nanny. Sometimes together.
“Are you fucking kidding me? She’s already on the verge of an eruption over one of her kids on the brink of no fault divorce, could you imagine what would happen if I came out at the family Christmas party?” Jake just chuckled and shook his head pretending like he didn’t already know it would end in disaster. “I’d meet our ancestors Jake, all the way back to pre colonial times my guy, you’re my scapegoat right now.”
“Happy to be of assistance.” Jake just laughed at his sister's chaos. He watched with a smile half the size of his face as she turned to walk off. Not before she turned around and gave the most obnoxious salute she could have.
“Appropriate your service, Lieutenant.”
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***
“Your daughter’s going under for a procedure we call a thrombectomy to remove the suspected blood clot from inside her artery.” Your mother sat in the waiting area of the emergency surgery floor she’d been escorted to once you had been whisked away. “Luckily for her we caught this so early she should have practically no defecates depending on how the surgery goes.”
First your separation, then your breast cancer diagnosis and now a stroke, what more could you possibly have to deal with.
“What caused it? She's been rather sick the last few days, throwing up, not sleeping, eating.” Your mother explained to the resident who had come out to update her on your status. “She's already dealing with so much.”
“Unfortunately this isn't uncommon in young woman who go through severe bouts of stress, i've read your daughter's file and its safe to say that the clot was probably due to her current oral chemo, plus a combination of high stress from the diagnosis, her blood pressure and her bodies inability to sustain proper nutrients, it's a perfect storm for these sorts of things.” It made sense but the explanation didn't make the outcome of the situation you were facing any easier for your mother to handle. “Rest assured your daughter is in really good hands and the fact she was already inside the hospital when the stroke started to manifest itself means her chances of a full recovery are rather high.”
“But now she’ll just live long enough to slowly deteriorate and be taken by the cancer, won't she?” Your mother wouldn't ever admit it to you, but the phone call where you told her that you had been diagnosed with Stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma, was one of the worst days of her life. The first being the day your father and the love of her life died far too young far too quickly. “My daughter is strong, Doctor Phillips, but she's just one woman, how much is she expected to be dealt before she gives up.”
Doctor Phillips, the resident who had been tasked with updating your mother, just flashed her a look of sympathy laced in professionalism that truly showed a testament to her ability to not let her own feelings get in the way of her patients and their families.
“Let's take this one step at a time, Miss O’riley.” She added politely before saying goodbye and left your mother to sit in silence watching the clock tick, although she didn't take her eyes off the clock on the wall for a mere second, time still felt like it stood still while you were on that operating table.
***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***
The day had been long, overdrawn, and full of mindless family drama over dinner on the back deck the first night Jake and the kids were in Texas. One night down only.. “Oh God–” Jake groaned as he finally let his head rest on the pillow and realised he would be here for a full two weeks before he could escape the family he never wanted to be anything alike.
The kids had gone down relatively easy with little to no tears, Lucy was a little upset that you never called like you said you would and Jake was slightly concerned that you never returned his calls or texts. However he also understood you didn't owe him a damn thing and for all he knew, you were still up in the air, on your way to the very beginning of what he hoped would be a fantastic kid tree trip. You did after all deserve some time away.
Jake had thought quickly on his feet before the tears could start though, he told Lucy that you had said you'd call in the morning because you knew that you'd keep her up far too long. He just hoped as his own head hit the pillow that you would in fact call in the morning.
Ten o'clock seemed rather early to be heading off to bed but Jake needed to reset his mind in order to be able to handle his family for two more weeks. He needed at least a solid eight hours before his sister Abigail joined in on the festivities for tomorrow with her own family. Jake was the only Seresin sibling this year without his partner present and god did he feel like the black sheep.
What really cemented that fact he was the family disappointment was when his father had handed him a beer and said the only thing he’d spoken to Jake the entire time he’d been home. A quick, monotone “I told you so son, happiness never lasts.”
His childhood bedroom hadn’t changed a single bit. As Jake laid in the twin bed he lost his virginity in, he listened to the baby monitor that kept a watchful eye on his three kids just down the hall. Little Sammy was sound asleep, Lucy and Lenny thought they were in the clear but they were up talking about whatever it is young twins talk about late at night while they’re visiting their grandparents place.
Jake wasn't sure when he had fallen asleep but the sound of his phone going off on the small bedside table surely woke him up in enough of a frazzled state to know it had been a few hours, long enough for his body to truly settle into a deep state of rest.
“Fuck–” Jake growled as he reached up for his phone. “The fuck is–who the hell is–” Jake grumbled as he sat up in the twin bed and tried to remember where he knew that area code from as the unknown number illuminated his phonescreen. “Hello?” It was a last minute decision to answer once Jake had actually seen the time, two thirty in the morning to be exact.
“Hi, would I be speaking to Mr. Seresin?” Lydia asked politely on the other end of the line, she sat at the nurses station on the ass end of her double shift. A double shift she wasn't supposed to be working. She couldn't feel her feet with how badly they were throbbing, her eyelids were far too heavy to keep up and she hadn’t eaten since noon yesterday, but her patients came first. Lydia Hudson was determined to be the best nurse she could be and that included updating your emergency contact on your post-op recovery.
“This is he.” Jake replied rather roughly into the phone as he held it to his ear in the darkness of his childhood bedroom. His voice was an octave deeper than it usually was with how tired he was.
“Hi Jake, this is Lydia calling from Rhode Island Hospital.” It took Jake's brain a moment to catch up to his heart as the women on the other end of the line spoke, but it caught up soon enough. “I'm just calling to let you know how your wife went in her emergent surgery, it seems as though we were able to retrieve the clot before it could cause any irreparable deficits.” Jake frowned as he ran his hand over his face, he wasn't sure what the hell he was listening to but his heart was hammering inside his chest. “There doesn't seem to be any critical deficits at the moment, she's on some pretty intense pain medication but we’re hoping that it won't interfere with her upcoming Mastectomy and chemotherapy sessions.”
“Im–I'm sorry, do you have the wrong number?” Jake questioned. “You said my wife?”
“Y/n Seresin?, I’m so sorry if no one had updated you sooner, but while she was setting up her room in oncology she suffered a moderate stroke we think was brought on by the–”
“Oncology meaning?” Jake was beginning to break out in a sweat as his heart raced. No, no you were supposed to be on a plane to Banff, you should have been in Calgary by now.
“The cancer ward–?” Lydia replied. “Mr. Seresin you do know your wife was admitted for stage three A, triple positive grade three invasive doctoral carcinoma, right?” Lydia frowned as she read over your notes again trying to understand why the man she had just called, your husband, didn’t seem to know a damn thing about your situation. “She was just put through admission today when she–” Lydia paused when she saw it, your actual emergency contact. It wasn’t Jake Seresin who was listed as your emergency contact on your paperwork, but your mother who was currently sitting at your bedside watching your chest move up and down post your operation. “Oh my god–”
“Y/n—“ Jake couldn’t make sense of what he’d just been told. “Has cancer? My wife Y/n has cancer?” Jake had to say it out loud for the realisation to kick in. “She has cancer? My wife had a stroke? What the hell is–”
“Mr. Seresin I’m so unbelievably sorry but I can’t share any more details with you under HIPAA, I’ve just realised you weren’t listed as your wife’s emergency contact.”
“She has cancer? My Y/n has cancer?” The vomiting, the flu that Lucy said you had had for weeks now, how tired you looked, it all made sense. “Oh god—“ Jake felt the tears spilling down his cheeks as he jumped out of his childhood bed and hit the light switch. “No, oh god no.” He felt like he was going to throw up as he rummaged through his duffle for a clean shirt and shorts. “How long has she known?” The call, the need for Jake to take the kids, the way you wouldn't even give him a chance to right his wrongs, divorce…. “How long has she known for?”
“I’m so sorry Jake, I can’t share any more details with you.” Lydia apologised before she began to panic and hung up the phone, leaving Jake in his newest existential crisis.
Jake had to go, he had to get back to you, why the fuck would you not tell him this? How long have you known? How long did you have left even? What was your prognosis? Jake had so many questions that were left unanswered as he changed and grabbed his wallet. He was booking the next available flight back to Rhode Island as he shoved all his stuff back into his duffel bag.
The kids would have to stay—oh god the kids. Your kids. No. No this wasn’t happening, it couldn’t be. Jake felt his heart racing as he silently cried in the middle of his childhood bedroom. His hand came to cover his mouth, minimising his cries to a silent but painful whale. He couldn’t lose you like this. What did that nurse mean when she said you had a stroke?
But out of everything Jake had been told he knew one thing for sure as he tried to pull himself together off the floor and get back to you as soon as he could.
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