Summary: Jack Abbot x F!nurse reader. You're sick and you've been hiding it from Jack. When it all catches up to you, you're both forced to process feelings long buried.
A/N: This was requested by the lovely @pear-1206! I'm so sorry it took me so long! I'm getting over Covid and it's left me with such bad brain fog and fatigue, it's insane.
Warnings: Talk of cancer, hospitals, illness, blood
Jack Abbot is a bloodhound. He can sniff out illness or injury before anyone realizes how bad it actually is. He hovers and gives hard stares until care is accepted. He is impossible to hide things from.
You were hiding from him.
You had been feeling terrible for weeks. You could barely keep your eyes open in the middle of the day because you were so exhausted. The pain that would occasionally stab you was less than ideal. You had gone to your GP, hoping they would say it was just a cold or dehydration or something easy. But when you rattled off the symptoms you had been so cleverly hiding from Jack, she had given you a solemn look.
Blood was drawn and sent off and she gave you pamphlets. A caring hand on the shoulder and a promise to call as soon as she had the results concluded the worst doctor’s visit of your life.
You were standing over the sink in the break room, doing your best to make the coffee maker work quicker with your mind. Alas, you did not have the gift of telekinesis or control over coffee makers. You did possess a headache that you were sure was causing hot lava to spew from the top of your skull.
“Hey! There you are!” Dana came waltzing in. “Whoa, you okay?” She quickly shut the door and shuffled over to you, pulling you to face her.
“Peachy.” You forced an unconvincing smile.
“Honey, you look like shit.” She side, taking in the site of you.
“I’m fine. Just a headache. I need caffeine.” You grumbled as you poured the hot serum into your thermos.
“I think you should tell-”
“Do not tell Jack.” You jumped at the thought of Jack knowing you were unwell.
“He’d want to know.” Dana sighed.
“I know. But he’ll fuss. I don’t want to be fussed right now.” You waved her off.
“I think this is a very bad idea, but you’re a grown woman. Do what you want.” She shrugged. “He’s looking for you, though.”
“Of course he is.” You grumble as you leave the room.
You sat at your computer station and sipped the sludge, reveling in the warmth. It was a short-lived peace as Jack sauntered up to you, a slick smirk on his face.
“There you are. I got a treat for you.” He leaned on the counter.
“Oh? At work?” You did your best to match his flirtatious attitude.
“Come on.” He chuckled. “I got a broken leg in trauma 2. Needs reduction. I know how much you love bones.”
“Ah.” You nodded, forcing a smile. “You know me too well.” You stood up, maybe a little too fast. You wobbled on your feet.
“Whoa,” He held you steady. “You okay?” He looked at you with those worried, hazel eyes and you felt something twist in your chest.
“Yeah, sorry. Just lost my balance.” You cleared your throat as you pushed past him to go to the trauma bay.
Jack watched you walk off, noting any abnormalities. His senses were finally starting to pick up that something was wrong. Your walls were failing.
“She said it was a headache.” Dana walked up to him, following his gaze.
“Yeah? Seems like a half-truth.” Jack huffed.
“I think she’s trying to spare you from something.” Dana sighed.
“Dammit.” Jack shook his head as he pushed off the counter.
“Keep an eye on her tonight. That’s my best nurse.” Dana nodded.
“Always do.” Jack nodded. “Robby? Help with a relocation before you head out?”
“Really? Where’s-”
“She’s not feeling well. I might need to bench her.” Jack grumbled as he made his way over to the trauma bay.
You were inside, adjusting the wires on the patient. You tucked the blanket tighter around their chest. Jack watched as you moved around them, caring for them like it was second nature. He had always admired that you cared about the patients as if they were family.
“Will you go help Dana, please?” Jack cleared his throat as he walked in.
“What? I thought you wanted me on this?” He could see the rage starting to rise in your chest.
“She needs something. Said she can’t leave until you two talk, I don’t want to keep her late.” Jack shrugged.
“Likely fucking story.” You growled as you pushed past the two doctors.
“Oh, you are in for it.” Robby chuckled as he prepped the patient for a relocation.
You grumbled to yourself as you stomped over to Dana. You knew he was getting suspicious. There was a part of you that hated being taken care of. Jack had learned to care for you in less obvious ways. Sometimes, he was really shit at being subtle.
“Jack said you needed me?” You crossed your arms, a look of indignation on your face.
“Huh?” Dana looked up at you, confused. Her eyes flicked over to the trauma to see Robby and Jack doing the relocation. “Oh! Yeah! I need you to help Lena with charge duties tonight. She’s got a back injury, so she’ll need some help.”
“That’s it?” You scoffed.
“That’s all I got.” Dana took her glasses off, pocketing them.
“I’m fine, I don’t need to be coddled.” You hissed.
“You don’t need to cop an attitude with me. I didn’t send you out here.” Dana crossed her arms.
“This is ridiculous!” You barked. You could see Dana was gearing up to give you a good dressing down, but her face fell.
“Honey, sit down.” She moved around the counter, pulling you towards the nearest chair. You shoved her hands off.
“Stop! I don’t need to be fussed over!” Your head was pulsing with pain.
“Your nose is bleeding, your pale and your hands are shaking. You’re going to collapse in a second, stop being stubborn and sit!” She barked. You reached up to wipe at your nose, your hand coming back red.
“I…I’m sorry…” You muttered. “My head hurts…” The words barely fell from your lips before you stumbled on weak knees, a useless effort to save yourself from falling to the floor. Dana did her best to catch you, but you both went falling to the floor.
“Oh shit!” Donnie came rushing over to the two of you.
“Get a gurney!” Dana barked as she held your face in her hands. “Abbot!!” She hollered.
Jack turned to see who had screeched his name, his blood went cold when he saw Dana holding your limp body on the floor.
“No…” His voice was small, barely audible. He ran over to you.
“Get her on the gurney. Careful of her neck.” Dana instructed Donnie and the techs as they took hold of your body.
“What happened!?” Jack’s voice was booming, as if being loud would hide the fear.
“She was pissed that you were benching her, giving me sass and her nose started bleeding. She complained of head pain before she went down.” Dana pushed the gurney into trauma bay 1.
“Fuck, I knew something was wrong.” Jack ran a hand through his hair.
“Kid, can you hear me?” Robby was digging his knuckles into your sternum; your brows twitched at the pain. “Responsive to pain.”
“Got an 18 in the right arm.” Donnie called out.
“Get her blood down to the lab, STAT. I want a rainbow. Get fluids started, her BP is okay enough, I want it wide open.” Robby rattled off his orders.
“Honey, open your eyes. Please.” Jack begged as he smoothed your hair back.
“She’ll come back, Jack.” Dana nodded as she cleaned the blood from your face.
“I can’t…” Jack felt like he was choking. He couldn’t see straight.
“She’s tachy.” Donnie noted as he buzzed around your gurney.
“Yeah, the fluids will help. Get Adenosine ready, just in case.” Robby said as he put his stethoscope on and listened to your chest.
“Please, wake up. Baby, wake up.” Jack’s voice was fragile, soft. It made a shiver run up the spine of everyone in the bay.
Jack Abbot was strong, steady, unshakeable. They had seen him handle the grizzliest cases without batting an eye. He’d taken slaps from grieving mothers who didn’t know what to do with their anger without a flinch.
Seeing him crumble was a terrifying reminder that any one of them could lose everything one day. That, at the end of the day, humans break.
You groaned, grimacing at the pounding in your head. Your body felt wrong, like it wasn’t yours. You had half a mind to just pass back out, but there was a voice muttering in your ear that was pulling you awake.
“Open your eyes, please. I just need you to open your eyes.” Jack’s voice was far off, small. There was so much emotion in it, it made you tear up. A tear fell down your temple as you fought to open your eyes.
“Jack…” You mumbled.
“Right here, Honey. I’m here.” His hand was squeezing yours tight. You felt his fingers thread through your hair, the repetitive motion soothing the worry for a moment.
“Can you open your eyes for me?” He was practically begging.
You winced as someone peeled your eyes open, shining a light in them. It left dark spots clouding your vision. You blinked hard, trying to reorient yourself. You finally saw Jack, his eyes bloodshot already, pale as a ghost.
“Sorry.” You hummed.
“Why are you sorry?” He looked down at you, confused.
“Scared you.” You licked your lips, suddenly aware of how cracked and dry they were.
“Y/N, you fainted, your head didn’t hit the floor, but we want to do a CT to be safe.” Robby’s voice was more gentle than you were used to. You didn’t like it.
“Fuck CTs.” You groaned.
“Yeah, I know.” Robby chuckled. “But you’re just going to have deal with it. We want you back on your feet ASAP.”
“Whatever.” You couldn’t think straight.
“Is there anything we should know? Are you on any medications, any new treatments?” Dana asked.
“No.” You shook your head, wincing at the feeling. Dana shot Jack a quick look, not wanting to make anyone uncomfortable but needing to ask the question.
“Honey, could you be pregnant?” She held your hand as she asked the question.
“Ha!” You chortled, the effort making your head swim again. “No. First test they did at the GP. Not pregnant.”
“GP? When did you go to the GP?” The look on Jack’s face was a mixture of fear, confusion and anger.
“Jack.” Robby warned. “Why did you go to the GP?”
“Been sick. They sent my labs out. Don’t know anything yet.” You were starting to feel more in your body. It wasn’t as hard to keep your eyes open.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jack was trying to keep his tone even, but there was an edge of hurt to it.
“I didn’t want to worry you.” You sighed.
“What were they sending your labs out for?” Robby asked.
“You should have told me, I can handle it.” Jack was lost in his own world of worry.
“Jack, if you can’t let me get a history from my patient, I’ll need you to step out.” Robby’s tone was firm, leaving no room for argument.
“I was trying to spare you unnecessary anxiety.” Your lip was trembling.
“Focus. What were they sending the labs out for?” Robby pulled your focus back to him. You couldn’t look at anyone; it was too much. Silent tears slid down your cheeks.
“…Leukemia.” The air in the room turned to ice. A shiver ran up everyone’s spine.
“Okay. We’ve got your blood work going right now. We’ll be able to see if there’s any WBC elevation.” Robby nodded, his eyes shifting from you to Jack. “Donnie, call down and have them do a peripheral smear for us. That won’t come back quick, but faster than your GP.”
“She’s stable, let’s give them some room.” Dana suggested.
“I’ll be back in as soon as the results are back.” Robby gave your knee a pat. “You aren’t working tonight. I’ll brief Shen.” He pointed to Jack.
“Sure.” Jack nodded, his eyes never leaving you. Everyone shuffled out of the room, their stomachs in their throats.
Jack pulled a stool next to your bed. He took a deep breath, leaning over the railing. You could see the wheels turning.
“I didn’t have answers. There was no use in both of us being nervous.” The words came tumbling out, trying to save yourself from the guilt he was about to lay on you.
“But you didn’t need to hold all of it by yourself. That’s what I’m here for.” Jack’s voice was low and soft. There was a tenderness under the anger.
“I didn’t want you to…I didn’t want to trigger something. I didn’t want you to feel scared like me. If I could spare you from that, I was going to. I don’t regret it.” You were firm in your convictions.
“So, you admit you were scared?” Jack cocked an eyebrow.
“…Yes. Of course.” You felt small again. You felt like a child, afraid of the monster on your bed, the danger under your skin.
“I’m upset that you had to go through all of this alone. I can worry about my triggers. You don’t need to police yourself for my benefit. If you need me, you have me. I can manage.” Jack held your face in his hand.
“I just want to protect you.” Your breath stuttered in your chest.
“I know. I feel the same about you. Maybe we let ourselves get carried away.” Jack gave a soft smile. “Whatever this turns out to be, I’m not going anywhere.”
“I didn’t want you to go through this twice.” A sob broke from your chest.
Jack squeezed his eyes shut, the pain radiating into his shoulders.
You had been best friends with Jack’s wife. You had gone through nursing school together. You had seen Jack first, but when you saw the look on her face you couldn’t say anything. You sat and watched them be happy together. There was a small part of yourself that was jealous, but they were so clearly meant for each other, you never regretted the decision.
When she got the call that the results of her biopsy were the worst possible outcome, she had come over to your house. She sobbed on your couch and begged you to keep it to yourself. She couldn’t figure out how to break Jack’s heart.
Of course he found out. He knew she was sick long before she had admitted it. When he found out that you knew and didn’t tell him, he screamed at you. He screamed at you until he was blue in the face. Jack Abbot didn’t raise his voice often and certainly didn’t to women. It had shaken you to your core, but you couldn’t blame him.
When she was on her deathbed, she had begged Jack for a girls' night. He hadn’t left her side for a second since the diagnosis. He had fought it, but relented, knowing you were the best nurse they had. She pulled you in close and told you to watch him when she left. She told you that she knew, she had seen your face before she had seen his. She wanted you to let yourself be happy and try and get him to be happy.
You ignored that conversation in your mind for so long. Years after she was gone, you still couldn’t bring yourself to do anything. Until the night of her birthday five years later. Jack showed up, begging for forgiveness.
You told him everything. About her begging you to stay silent, her telling you to be with him and how you had longed to be his for too long.
You knew the pain that was settling on his shoulders; it had made it’s home on yours days ago.
“I should have said. I’m sure this seems like history repeating itself. I didn’t think about that.” You ran your hand through his curls, desperate for connection.
“I can’t…talk about that.” He took a deep breath. “I’m more worried about right now.”
“I love you, you know that. I only kept this to myself because I love you. It was stupid.” You bit your lip to keep from crying.
“Honey, I get it. I do.” Jack kissed your hand. “Let’s just make a promise that we won’t do this shit ever again. If something is going on, we talk.”
“Agreed.” You nodded.
“Good.” He leaned over and kissed you.
The knock at the door made you jump. Robby came walking in, tablet in hand and an unreadable expression. You could feel yourself starting to shake again.
“We got your tests back.” Robby wheeled a stool up next to you. “You’re anemic. It’s not cancer. Your white blood cells look normal, the smear was normal.”
“Jesus, fuck.” You gasped. Jack gathered you in his arms, kissing your face all over.
“We are going to need to do a transfusion; it’s gotten so severe. But you’ll be home in the next day or so. We’re going to transfer you up to ICU. We want to monitor you since you lost consciousness.” Robby nodded.
“That’s fine, I can deal with that.” You let out a breathy laugh.
“I gotta say, I’ve never seen a whole ER hold it’s breath like they did for you. Glad we get to keep you around a while longer.” Robby smiled and left.
“You scared the shit out of me.” Jack chuckled.
“Scared myself.” You sighed.
“Do you need me to grab you anything from home?” Jack tucked a stray hair behind your ear.
“No, I’m okay. You should go get some sleep.” You said.
“I’m never going to leave your side. I’ll sleep in the shitty chairs in the ICU. I’ve slept on worse.” He smiled.
“I love you.” You felt the knot in your chest unraveling.
“I love you, too.” There was something in Jack’s voice that gave you goosebumps. Something so sure that you could never doubt it.
I promise this is mostly fluff. But Queenie does die, and it does affect Kinger.
Also don’t ask me how the babies are conceived between 2 literal chess pieces. It’s up to your imagination and we’ll leave it at that. Thankyou 🙃
The year 2020 in this world saw the rise of a horrifying disease known as abstraction. Abstraction was a degenerative disease that attacked the nervous system. If you were to contract It, there is a high possibility it will never leave you. People did end up beating it and surviving but those were rare cases. It caused countless deaths. It was a plague on the population.
Kinger was beyond terrified when his wife Queenie contracted it. They’d followed the rules to a tee, and still she was suffering. For almost 3 years she battled this horrible disease, with the fear of dying hanging over the family’s heads, she was determined to beat it. By her 4th pregnancy, she was Abstraction free. It was currently dormant in her system. They received the news that they were expecting twins, it was a higher risk than a single baby. They chose to continue the pregnancy and thankfully she delivered once again via C-section 2 healthy baby’s. Now with 5 kids, they were done. Until Queenie became pregnant for a 5th time. An accident, but not a completely unwanted accident. The both of them had always wanted a big family.
And then Queenie got sick after the Abstraction started attacking her system again, during her pregnancy. It was once again considered high risk, and they had a long chat about the options. Queenie was stubborn and determined to see things through. It didn’t feel right to terminate, she'd already survived one high risk and that was with twins. She convinced Kinger and they decided to continue. One of the high risks was the baby being born premature. They’d already gone through this with Gangle and were prepared if it were to happen again.
Everything was going pretty smoothly all things considered. The family was preparing for the new addition, the girls were ecstatic, Jax didn’t want a new baby to take all the attention.
It was a quiet day, Kinger was at work, and the contractions started. Queenie was shocked and terrified because she was almost 10 weeks short of her due date. She called kinger and he hurried home. They got Kinger’s brother Scratch to look after the kids.
They headed to the hospital in a panic. Queenie was admitted and taken for a C-section. Their baby boy was delivered and taken to the NICU. Kinger waited patiently to see Queenie.
She didn’t come out. The doctor pulled him aside and told him that she hadn’t made it. Queenie was gone.
The hospital cared for the baby and gave Kinger therapy options. He had a chance to say goodbye to her and broke down sobbing. The baby would have to stay in the NICU for almost 2 months and Kinger would go home. Alone. To his 5 children. To explain that their mum was gone. That their mum wasn’t coming back.
For the moment, Kinger pushed his grief aside to care for his children, explain to them and plan the funeral. Not giving himself this crucial time to grieve led him to experience a breakdown when the baby was discharged. His days felt repetitive and empty. Take Ragatha and Gangle to School. Take Pomni to kindergarten. Care for the twins and the new born. The new born who hadn’t received a name yet. A name was supposed to be decided by both of them, at the hospital while Queenie would be doing skin-to-skin contact. But that didn’t happen and Kinger didn’t know how to move forward with his newborn son.
There was a part of Kinger that blamed Queenie’s death on his son. A tiny part that he pushed away. It was getting harder to function. Neglecting his own needs to tend to his children. This cycle continued. Just him going through the motions. Doing the bare minimum. He fed them, took them to school and put them to bed. It was neglectful to only cater to their needs for survival. He was so tired. Maybe he could just go to sleep and never wake up. So he laid down on his double bed and drifted, he dreamed of his wife.
Time moved and his children were left to fend for Ragatha tried her best, but she was only 8 and was supposed to be at school. The normally quiet baby cried and screamed. No one came. Jax was left to his own devices and decided to climb a tree, too thin a branch and the wrong footing and he fell. His knee bulged and any movement made him scream. Ragatha ran around looking for Scratch’s phone number. She called him on the old phone in the kitchen. He rushed over, grabbed the five kids and the baby and rushed to the hospital. Jax ended up needing surgery to repair his knee. Scratch signed off on it after explaining the situation. He returned back to Kinger’s place and spent the rest of the day caring for the hungry, scared kids.
after everyone was tucked in bed or a crib (Jax needed to stay at the hospital) Scratch confronted Kinger. All the buildup over the months caused Kinger to completely breakdown. With the new revelation on Kinger’s fractured mind and his deteriorating physical state, Scratch decided to step in and help Kinger find a place to receive care. Kinger needed up explaining to the children that he was going away for awhile to get some help. Of course the kids immediately thought he was going away forever like mum had. He hurriedly shut that idea down. He kissed them all goodbye, promised he’d call every day and drove away. (He made a quick stop to explain to Jax what was happening)
It took several months, but Kinger did return. He was grieving, but in a much healthier way. He rejoined his family and was determined to make amends. The first step toward acceptance was finally coming up with a name for his son. He named him Caine, and held him close.
Scratch came around more often to help out on particularly heavy grief days. Those became less and less and Kinger was once again finding joy in the little moments.
if you have any questions, send me an ask or write a comment. I’ve got lots to talk about for this AU :D
(Just a PSA. If you would like to take one of these AU’s and add on to them, please do and tag me so that i can see. I am unable to focus on any enough to become fully fledged, my brain just doesn't work like that. So please i give anyone permission to use these ideas and make it your own. You just have to promise to tag me so i can see it :3
"I hate this body." Hearing you speak that, Pierrot looks at you in confusion. Concern was also evident in his demeanor.
"My dear, may I know why?" He asks, wanting to understand and help in anyway he can. The red clown knows that simply telling you you're perfect will not fix the issue at least.
"It feels like it's dying, all the time... it hurts, im tired of being constantly sick, constantly in pain. I hate it." You replied, looking back at him with a weary gaze. Dark circles under your eyes, your skin tone paler than usual under the influence of illness once again.
It was the second time in two weeks, getting sick again.
"I know my dear, and if I could take away your pain... I would. Is there any way I could help, even if its something small?" Pierrot gently cupped your cheeks, looking down at you.
"Just stay with me... please?"
"Of course my dear, I'm not going anywhere."
The curse of constantly getting sick and constantly being in pain is something I have and idk why haha... pierrot pls snuggle with me
not to make this post traumatic or anything, but what i constantly think about when i see movies or media where the buildings just collapse because there’s been some devastating attack on the city, where our hero gets thrown through concrete and steel and rebar and glass and whole foundations are toppled while people flee or die in the destruction—the ones that survive; the ones you see running away and getting to safety, the ones that make it out of the billowing clouds of smoke, particulates, and debris swirling behind them—they’re dead.
like maybe they don’t die that day, or the next day, or the week or month after, but they breathed lifetimes worth of carcinogens into their bodies as they struggled to flee. their bodies are completely covered in building shit. it’s in their eyes, it’s in their mucous membranes, it’s poison.
our hero saved the day but the death toll will rise in the coming weeks, months, years. it comes in the form of first responders dropping like flies or wracking up hospital bills to keep themselves alive; it comes in the form of bystanders who opened doors for those fleeing the poisonous clouds of sediment, urging people to take shelter inside whilst shops and store fronts darkened to an apocalyptic yellow-grey of death; it comes in the form of hope as the fighting or the chaos dies down and survivors deemed it safe to leave where they’d hunkered down, using rags or their jackets to cover their mouths and noses as they make their way back into the darkened clouded streets to get to safety.
I think about it all the time, because in bvs you see bruce wayne running into the cloud while people try to outrun it, and I think about the fact that, sure, he survived, he goes on to form the justice league after his misunderstanding (and lex’s influence), after clark dies.
But imagine it’s a year or so later; clark comes back from the dead, and Bruce has a cough, one that developed during the time Clark’s been gone, but one that Bruce does his best to keep under wraps. No one really notices, after all, people cough all the time.
But Clark has the added benefit of supersenses, of being able to hear the wetness in Bruce’s chest when he breathes, smells the cancer growing throughout his body. It doesn’t make any sense to Clark how Bruce could be dying at all, the man keeps fit, eats healthy, doesn’t smoke. He wonders if there’s something in the cave that could cause it; makes cursory scans of the underground bunker, takes note of some chemicals that could, with prolonged exposure, cause cancer (or some other nefarious ailment), and one day he just approaches Bruce and tells him he’s concerned.
Bruce denies it, dismisses it, tries to assuage that he’s fine, it’s just a little thing he’s getting over. Clark gets close and tells him that he can taste the sickness just being inches away from Bruce’s face, but still, Bruce refuses.
He can’t tell Clark it’s because of That Day. He can’t tell Clark that he was there, on the ground, trying to get to his people. He can’t tell Clark that he’s just another casualty. People die all the time from various ailments, Bruce isn’t gonna be that different, he just doesn’t want Clark to blame himself.
But Clark is an investigator; he traces back timelines and events and talks with alfred and diana, and he starts to get an idea of why Bruce is cagey about his health.
♡ — SUMMARY; your ex-husband, Nanami, asks you to meet him at a local diner.
♡ — CONTENT; heavy angst, toxic relationship, mentions of death, illness, loss of child, slight gojo x reader.
“I didn’t think you would show up.”
KENTO NANAMI took a tentative sip of his black coffee. Though he did not show it, his heart was pounding rapidly from the very moment he glanced out of the window and saw your car enter the parking lot of the old-fashioned diner.
“I didn’t think I’d show up either, to be honest.” You mumbled unhappily. You sat down in the booth across from your ex-husband. “Why am I here?”
Your face was as blank as an untouched canvas. Sitting his white mug of coffee down, Kento folded his hands, resting them on the table.
“You know what today is, don’t you?” He asked. As soon as his question fell from between his lips, he hated himself for the way he approached such a sensitive topic.
“Of course I do, and I’d rather spend it alone,” you snapped, speaking in a harsh tone slightly above a whisper. “I don’t wanna talk about this with you.”
“Well,” Kento took a deep breath. “To the rest of the world, today’s a regular day. But to us, it’s . . . his birthday. We’re the only two people grieving him today, so I thought-”
“Thought we’d grieve together? I’ve been grieving alone for four years now. Today’s no different. I needed your help then and you didn’t give it, but I don’t need you now.” Suddenly, you started to scoot out of the booth. “You know what? This was a bad idea, I’m just gonna leave-”
“No, no, wait. Don’t leave yet,” Kento’s words halted your movements, but you glared at him as he continued to speak. “It’s me who needs help. I know you don’t need me anymore, but I still need you.”
“Still?” You settled back down into your seat. “The word still implies that you needed me before now.”
“I’ve always needed you,” Kento said softly.
“You sure didn’t act like it.”
“That doesn’t make it any less true.” Taking yet another deep breath, Kento ran his large hand through a few strands of his blonde hair. “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for everything. I was an awful husband. Distant father. I’d do anything to make things right.”
His words were met with silence. Your eyes were scanning him — perhaps for some sign of dishonesty — drifting from his serious expression, white collared shirt, and even down to the laminated menu resting on the table in front of him.
“You’re a couple years too late,” your voice was soft. Filled with regret. “I’m remarried, and our boy is gone.”
Those were two facts Kento knew well. Even so, hearing them sliced through his heart, creating a horrific ache painful enough for him to wonder if he would truly die from heartbreak, here and now.
“Is Satoru treating you well?” He asked with as much composure as he could muster.
“We, um,” you hesitated. “I’m pregnant now, actually.”
Kento looked into your eyes. His eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, but his eyes were glassy.
“Oh. I’m happy for-”
“Save your breath. Don’t lie to me,” you interrupted.
“But I am happy for you.”
This time, it was your turn to raise your eyebrows in surprise, but your eyes flickered away from him and down at the salt and pepper shakers. “Really? You’re not upset?”
“I am. I’m heartbroken. Two things can be true at once,” Kento said. “You’ve moved on, and I understand that, believe me. I only wish I was the one to heal what I broke. But, as you said, I’m too late. I’m out of time now.”
A young brunette approached with a kind smile and a notepad in hand. She jotted down your orders. Though it was a little ways past eight p.m., you ordered buttermilk pancakes, while Kento opted to respect the time of day and ordered a sandwich with tater tots for his evening meal — not his favorite, but he wanted to order the first thing that came to mind in hopes of sending the waitress away as quickly as possible.
Her departure sparked a bit of small talk between you and Kento, and it lasted until she returned a while later with steaming plates of food. Your pleasant chatter was rather mundane, but even so, you said, “Seems like you’ve changed. I hope it’s genuine.”
Oh, how he wanted to hear those words more than anything. The left corner of his mouth twitched with the urge to smile, though not noticeably.
“It is. I quit my job,” Kento said.
“Wow, that’s . . .” For a brief second, you smiled, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “That’s great to hear, but at the same time, I wanna slap you right now. Why did our lives have to fall apart for you to finally wake up? Why weren’t the hundreds of arguments we had enough?”
Happy and pissed. Two things can be true at once.
“Our lives would have fallen apart anyway,” Kento said calmly. “Whether I had quit my job sooner rather than later would not have changed what happened to Kenji.”
“No, but when he suddenly took a turn for the worse, I would have had my husband there to hold my hand, and he would’ve been able to see his father one last time.” Pain flashed across your face. There was a slight tremble to your voice. You were trying your hardest to control your anger among the quiet diner chatter from nearby groups and family. “He was scared. He was asking for you. And where the hell were you? Handling stocks while our son was dying.”
“They told us we had time-”
“It was fucking cancer, Kento! Any day could have been his last, and you knew that, and you didn’t care.”
A few heads turned in your direction, but with tears threatening to stream down your cheeks, with the memories of your dying boy replaying in your mind endlessly, drawing attention was the last thing you were concerned with.
“Of course I knew and cared, that was why I worked so hard. Someone had to pay for all of the stays in the most advanced hospitals, the finest treatments known to man, the rarest medication administered by the best team of doctors, surgery performed by some of the best surgeons we could find . . . Kenji had all the help money could buy and only because I worked every second of my life.” A tear fell from Kento’s eyes. He wiped it away quickly.
“And in the end, it was pointless, wasn’t it?” You said quietly. “Wasn’t it? Because he died anyway, and you weren’t there to say goodbye.”
“I know what you’re doing.” Kento’s voice had an unfamiliar, dark tone. “You feel guilty as well. About what exactly, I don’t know, but you’re taking the anger you feel towards yourself and letting it out on me.”
“You’re wrong, you jackass. Do you seriously think you’re blameless in all of this or something?” You glared at him with pure hatred. “I was wrong. You haven’t changed one bit.”
The way you looked at him now, as if he was worthless, as if he was a bug that deserved to be squashed; it snapped his heart into pieces, if it was capable of being broken further at this point.
However, it didn’t stop him from continuing on with his own form of cruelty.
“You can’t bring yourself to say his name. You haven’t said it. Not once.” Kento was as calm as ever. Or, at least, he was pretending to be. “You try to avoid talking about him. You try to pretend he didn’t exist by marrying a man I know you don’t care for, all so you can have another child to replace him-”
“Go to hell.”
“I, on the other hand,” Kento continued to speak despite your bitter interruption as if you hadn’t said anything at all. “I spend my time keeping his memory alive. All of my money goes towards research. Towards organizations dedicated to finding a cure so no parent has to go through what we went through. I wasn’t there for Kenji when he died and I will never forgive myself for it, but you aren’t here for him now, in the present.”
“Here for what? A pile of bones in a graveyard?” You glared.
“A graveyard you never visit, so I’ve heard.”
That was it. Those were the words that finally made your brewing tears fall. They splattered against your half-eaten plate of pancakes.
A long enough period of silence passed, long enough for nosy fellow diners to return to their own conversations.
Kento’s eyes softened at the sight of your crying face. “I’m sorry. Sweetheart, I’m sorry-”
“Don’t call me that. You’ve lost that right a long time ago.” You sniffled. “I can’t believe you’d accuse me of trying to erase the memory of our son from my life.”
Kento's brows were pinched as he frowned. “And I can’t believe you’d accuse me of not caring about him. It hurts, doesn’t it? The accusations we keep throwing at each other?”
Your face was unreadable. He knew you well, better than you knew yourself as fate would have it, but even so, he couldn’t tell what you were thinking right now.
Outside, it started to rain. For a moment, you eyed the raindrops coating the street. Neither you nor Kento said anything for quite some time, your food becoming cold, and together, you watched the rainfall.
“I’m sorry.” You said after a while. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said. I’m just still so pissed off about it. I know you’ve suffered enough, and I know you only worked so hard to save him, but . . . you didn’t see him use the last of strength trying to call for you. It haunts me every day. I can’t live with that amount of pain, Kento, so I’m just trying to move on and keep on living, not erase his memory.”
“I know, I know. I wish I never said that.” Kento wanted to reach out and touch your hand, but the sight of the wedding ring sitting on your finger stopped him. “I wish I never did a lot of things in general.”
“You need to do what I just said.” You faced him, wiping away a few stray tears. “Try to move on and keep on living. Forgive yourself.”
“Can you ever forgive me?” Kento asked softly.
“I can.” You gave a sad smile. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“I already do.”
He matched your sad smile with one of his own.
“God, we’re a fucking mess. I can’t believe I caused a scene.” You buried your face in your hands for only a moment, then looked up at the sound of Kento’s voice.
“I would lie and tell you they won’t ever see either one of us again, but I’ve been coming to this diner for years, and I don’t plan on stopping,” he said.
“Yeah, yeah I know. We went on our first date here, remember? We were dumb teenagers back then.” It was a bittersweet memory, one you regretted bringing up immediately.
Never before had your smile been so bright. If only you could go back to that simpler time.
If only.
“But we were in love with each other back then, weren’t we?” Kento asked. His own question nearly pushed him to his limit.
“Yeah, we were.” You smiled, brighter this time, and continued, “You’ll always have a special place in my heart — you know that, right?”
“I do.” Kento paused. “And, I’m sorry, but you’ll always be my sweetheart.”
“Good,” you mumbled, though your words were guilt-ridden. Avoiding Kento’s gaze, you started to fiddle with your wedding ring. “It’s getting late. I should . . . I should probably go.”
He didn’t want you to leave, but you weren’t his anymore. How he felt didn’t matter.
“Thank you for coming. It meant more to me than you know,” he said.
“Well, I was lying when I said I wanted to spend his birthday alone.”
“I know.”
You rolled your eyes. Of course he did.
“Bye, Kento,” you got out of the booth, pulling your jacket tighter around your frame. “I . . . nevermind.”
Kento watched you walk through the chiming exit doors of the diner, your last sentence left incomplete. Raindrops were splattering against your head and clothes, but you were in no rush, not minding the drizzle.
Suddenly, your footsteps halted on the concrete sidewalk. You turned around, peering through the big windows, locking eyes with your ex-husband. At first, you gave him a soft smile — one that meant goodbye, and nothing further.
But then, he saw the corners of your lips fall into a little frown, and your eyes glistened with uncertainty. Hesitation. Regret.
You sighed, turning away from the sight of the man in the booth, the man who you knew for a fact held more than a “special place” in your heart, but still owned it entirely.
Though every step away from him was painful, you dragged yourself to your car, and drove away from the ex-husband you still loved, and home to the current-husband you somewhat liked.
Kento thought about rushing out of the door, wrapping his arms around your waist, and kissing you in the rain — passionately and deeply, as you once loved. After all, he knew what your final look towards him meant. He knew your past marriage, though destructive, still held more passion than your current loveless one.
But he stayed put in his seat, taking a sip of his cold black coffee.
Perhaps, he would regret not chasing after you for the rest of his life, but being that he discovered not too long ago that his son’s cancer was genetic, originating from Kento’s side, and would soon claim his life as well — even after he survived all these years — he knew he wouldn’t have to live with his regret much longer.
This was the last time he would ever eat at the diner he once took you to, back when you were both young fools excitedly in love, fools who would die for each other in a heartbeat.
And those couple of seconds in which you locked eyes with him through the diner window? That was the last time he ever saw you.
