#5 with sonny? (Love your writing btw! Keep up the great work!!)
ok don’t hate me and if you want a less angsty (but still damn angsty) version of this prompt PLEASE let me know bc i am brimming with ideas and i love pain. Also you are going to give me a cavity you are too sweet!!! thank you?? i don’t deserve this. Enjoy!
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5. “I don’t want to do this on my own. I don’t think I can do this on my own.” | Sonny Carisi
Warning: Cancer, hospital, death, mention of God/religion
The chill in the air was unremarkable for a winter morning in Manhattan. It was the kind of chill that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, the kind that you always complained to Sonny about, the kind you didn’t experience back home in LA. It was the kind Sonny had grown accustomed to during his childhood during the equally brutal Staten Island winters. To Sonny, it should have been an average morning.
It wasn’t.
Average mornings had a different meaning since your hospitalization. You had just adjusted to the cancer treatment, just adjusted to running back anf forth between chemo and work and home, when your deterioration had gotten bad enough to warrant residency. Life stopped being average when Sonny’s world came crashing down around him as you grew paler and paler. It stopped when Sonny’s heart did, when all Sonny knew was the burn of your hand in his own.
You were still drowsy, barely energetic enough to open your mouth to allow Sonny to spoon in some oatmeal.
Amanda and Dodds didn’t look as tired; they were trying to keep everything light as they chattered about the latest case. You had insisted on being kept up-to-date even with your hospitalization, and Amanda and Mike weren’t about to disregard your wishes.
Sonny, however, didn’t look tired. He looked worried, sure, but not tired. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend the definition of the word. Tired was going to a chemo treatment at four o’clock on Monday evening and showing up for work at seven in the morning the next day. Tired was chasing perps when you weren’t supposed to, when the urge to live outweighed the will to survive. Tired was knowing that every cell in your body was trying to fight off these foreign cells but couldn’t. Tired was having to worry about whether you’d make it or not.
No, Sonny wasn’t tired. He was guilty. He was sympathetic. He was hurt. He was devastated. But he wasn’t, and would never be, tired.
His pain multiplied when you didn’t open your mouth for the oatmeal. “Come on, doll,” he encouraged, interrupting Amanda’s sentence. “You’ve gotta eat this. For me, okay?”
The shake of your head was almost imperceptible.
He said your name, nudging the spoon forward again. “Please, babe? This’ll help build up your strength, alright? You need some food in you.”
Your voice was hoarse when you finally spoke, dull eyes set on Sonny. You had almost forgotten about Dodds and Rollins as you addressed the love of your life: “Sonny, I can’t, okay? I can’t do this anymore.”
“Sh, sh, it’s alright, sweetheart,” he assured, tears in his eyes. He knew how bad this was; he knew and he wished he didn’t. Every nerve in his body was alight with heartache and fear as he tried to convince you—and himself—that you’d be fine. “Don’t say that, okay, doll? The doctors are working wonders. You’ll be okay.”
You were barely listening. “Sonny, no, I’m not—I can’t.”
He dropped the spoon on the bedside table, using his now free hand to grip yours with two. “Hey, hey, stop that, alright? You’re gonna make it and it’ll be fine and we’re gonna get married and everything will—”
“Sonny,” you said gently, still panting with the energy each labored breath took. “Sonny, listen to me. You have to move on, alright? You’ll be okay without me, okay? I promise, Sonny. You’ll find someone and you’ll be happy. That’s all I ask of you, to be happy. Don’t let this stop you—”
“No, no,” he demanded, tears rushing down his face as he held you even tighter. “No, stop. I’m not going to find someone because I already found you and we’re going to get married and be happy.”
“Sonny, I’ll be okay, I promise I’m okay with this.” Your voice was growing weaker with every passing second, and you found it remarkable that you could even talk at all, what with the ache in your skull air barely escaping past your shuddering lips.
He said your name firmly, adamantly. “No, stop this.” He was shaking his head, denial rushing through his veins. “I don’t want to do this on my own. I don’t think I can do this on my own.”
“You won’t have to.”
Weakly, you nodded towards Amanda and Mike. Your eyes flickered over to them, and it killed you to see the wetness in Amanda’s eyes. Mike’s jaw was clenched, and had you had the energy, you would have reprimanded him for holding his emotions in.
Mike and Amanda, though, were representative of a larger crowd, of your bigger family. Each team member would find a way to be there for Sonny, making your imminent passing a little easier. Amanda would be a shoulder to cry on, Jesse a welcome source of hope; Barba would be a distraction, pulling Carisi back to his main purpose of helping people; Olivia would be a protector and source of consolation; Dodds would take over in Sonny’s absence, allowing him to come to work every day but not providing him with too much responsibility; and Fin would be a much-needed source of humor in days of bleakness. They would be his rock, his support system—much in the same ways you had been throughout his early days at the precinct.
“I’m not doing this on my own because you’re going to live, Goddamn it!” Sonny finally snapped, abruptly standing as he still held your hand. His lower lip began to wobble as he cooled back down, anger exiting his body through heavy breaths out of his nose.
With all the energy you could muster, you began to inch his hands, enveloping your smaller hand, towards your lips. Upon noticing your effort, Sonny, with a confused expression, aided the process along, but his movements stopped when you gently pressed your lips to the smooth back of his hand.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Amanda stand and turn her back to you, not able to look at the scene in front of her as her tears spilled over.
All you could focus on, though, was Sonny.
“Sonny, look at me,” you requested, and immediately he complied. “Sonny, I love you and I don’t want to leave you, but I can’t live like this. We both knew this was coming, Dom, and I’m okay with it, and you will be, too. Please let this be easy.”
A sob bubbled out of Sonny’s throat as he squeezed his eyes shut, face wrought with pain. “Nothing,” his voice cracked, giving way to the agony he was feeling, “Nothing about this is easy.”
“You know I’d do anything to make this easier, Sonny.” Your voice was nothing above a whisper as your wet eyes darted around his face. “I’d do anything to stay alive, Dom, but I can’t do this anymore. I’m not living, baby. I’m just existing.”
Sonny sniffled as the tears continued to stream down his face. “I know,” he croaked. “I know you would, and I know you deserve better than this. You’ll receive better than this somehow. But… Fuck, this is just so fucking hard.”
The guilt was eating away at you, but so was the utter exhaustion. You had one thing to ask of Sonny, unable to focus on his last statement.
“I love you, Dom. I’ve never been happier than I’ve been with you. You made everything bearable.” You paused to let a sob escape, but the tears felt like they didn’t belong. “But I need one more thing from you.”
“Anything,” Sonny whispered.
“Say The Lord’s Prayer?”
You had never been particularly religious—especially not compared to Sonny—but being here, having lived a great life, facing your looming death, you felt like you needed it. You felt like Sonny needed it, too.
But as much as he needed it, it hurt him. He let out another tear-filled gasp, releasing one of your hands to rifle through his pockets to pull out his rosary. He grabbed your hand, opened your palm, and closed your fist around the rosary. Still holding your first, he cleared his throat and began to recite the words he said every night:
Our Father,
Who art in Heaven,
Hallowed be Thy Name.
Thy Kingdom come.
Thy Will be done
on earth as it is in Heaven.
Give us this day
our daily bread.
And forgive us
our trespasses, as we
forgive those who
trespass against us.
And lead us not
into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
He didn’t even get out the Amen.