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They’re lounging in his hospital room, just the two of them.
Well, not lounging, but lying silently side by side on Whizzer’s hospital bed. Against Whizzer’s protests, Marvin had brought out Whizzer’s photo album - a gift picked out for Whizzer by Jason for Christmas. The large binder had 100 slots, but Whizzer had managed to fill every single flap before April. Loose photos were spilling out of the album onto the old hospital floor, and Marvin made sure to wipe away dust on them all before placing them securely on his lap.
They’ve been going through the album for the past hour now, and although Marvin had paid attention to the pictures at first, he found his gaze continually drifting upwards to the face of the man lying beside him. Marvin studies Whizzer’s features, his eyes tracing a path from his nose, to his warm eyes, his beautiful hair covered by hospital cloth, and then, his lips. As his pupils follow this self-made path over and over again, Marvin wonders how Whizzer finds it in himself to be so brave, so calm when he’s on his literal deathbed.
A nudge from Whizzer interrupts his thought process.
“Marvin, if you insist on bringing out this goddamn giant heavy book, you can at least pretend to enjoy it,” Whizzer says. He’s trying to adapt an annoyed tone, but the lack of punch in his voice only serves to feed Marvin’s previous thoughts. Marvin shakes himself out of his stupor, rearranging his facial features into a gentle smile.
“Sorry, I got distracted,” Marvin says easily, and he drapes an arm around Whizzer’s shoulders -wincing when Whizzer’s bone digs into his forearm- and goes back to looking at photos.
A comfortable silence settles over them. Marvin finds himself staring at the photographer again.
“Marvin?” Whizzer says. Marvin mmm’s in response.
“Do you - if I hadn’t been… diagnosed,” Whizzer’s struggling to come up with the right words. “would you have, um.” He pauses, takes a breath. ‘Where would we be right now?”
Marvin blinks. “Like, geographically?”
“Uh - no.” Whizzer seems uncomfortable. It’s endearing, and Marvin would normally find this very charming if he weren’t so very confused. “I mean relationship-wise.” Whizzer refuses to look at Marvin, choosing instead to direct his gaze downwards. Marvin follows, and realizes Whizzer’s focusing on the photo he’s gripping tightly.
He’s holding a picture of the two of them. They’re both sharply dressed, Marvin in a black tux and Whizzer in a white one, and they’re sitting at a round, elegantly draped table with flowers in the middle. Marvin’s leaning back slightly, head thrown back in laughter, and Whizzer’s grinning brightly at him, a hand resting on his knee. They look like they’ve had too much wine, but the pure joy on both faces cannot be denied, and the way Whizzer’s looking at him makes Marvin’s heart speed up, obnoxiously thumping against his chest.
“Do you know where this is from?” Whizzer’s voice brings him back to the present again. Marvin thinks hard, but comes up blank. He shakes his head no.
“It was at Trina and Mendel’s wedding,” Whizzer says slowly, like he’s trying to make some sort of point, but what does a wedding have to - oh. Oh. Duh.
“Would I have proposed?” Marvin says, turning his head to face Whizzer, who’s looking anywhere but at Marvin.
“Whizzer…” Marvin starts to say, but then stops. “Wait here,” Marvin says, unnecessarily. He slips out of bed and goes over to his coat that’s lying on the floor by the chair from earlier, when he didn’t bother to pick it up (Whizzer had simply sighed and shook his head). Reaching into the coat pocket, Marvin grasps the little blue velvet box, so light yet so heavy with meaning, and brings it over to Whizzer. Whizzer’s eyes just widen, and he holds his hand out to receive the box. Marvin watches as his lover examines the box carefully before opening it slowly. Whizzer’s face morphs and his expression is a mix of sorrow and regret and longing and it’s a promise of a forever that can never be fulfilled - and suddenly, Marvin’s finding it hard to fight back tears that are forming in the pools of his eyes.
“I wanted to propose to you in a month,” Marvin’s voice, thick and unsteady, betrays his emotions. “It would be a year from Jason’s baseball game.” Whizzer’s listening, but he’s still staring at the ring. The silver band was simple, but Marvin had chosen to engrave it:
You are everything to me.
The words are familiar, albeit slightly different, reminding Whizzer of a time when the pair was foolish, young, selfish. If only they’d known how precious each passing second was - maybe they wouldn’t have screwed around so much (no pun intended).
But then again, maybe they would’ve, but that doesn’t matter now. There would be no answers.
Whizzer brings himself back to his lover - sweet, helpless Marvin, who’s still waiting for him to speak, watching him with anxious eyes. Whizzer’s tongue refuses to form words, which is just as well because his brain’s shut down. Marvin realizes this, and lets out a half-laugh, half-sigh in exasperation.
“Whizzer,” Marvin takes the box from him and puts it on the side table, and gathers frail hands in his own. “I was - I wanted to tell you how nothing could ever compare to you. I can lose all the chess games I play from now till eternity, but if I have you… I have everything.” His earnest eyes bear into Whizzer’s.
Whizzer inhales, too sharply, and starts to cough. Marvin instinctively rubs his back, but Whizzer waves his hand away, letting the coughing fit roll over him. He can feel Marvin’s alertness, ready to press the call button for a nurse at a moment’s notice. When the coughs cease, Whizzer’s still, replaying Marvin’s words in his mind. Marvin’s wringing his hands, like he wants to break the silence again, but stays quiet.
“Yes.” Whizzer’s abrupt response startles Marvin.
“What?”
Whizzer takes a slow, deep breath. “Yes. I would’ve - I’ll marry you.” He looks up at Marvin, with a fierce kind of love in his eyes.
The world stops for Marvin in that moment. It feels like a movie, something out of a Nicholas Spark book, where if he tried hard enough, he could almost convince himself that Whizzer would get better. That they would fight against this together, that somehow there’d be a miracle or something, that maybe they would get married, fight, love, make up, tease Jason, have a tight knit family, and finally, when they were ready to go - they’d leave, together. Marvin wants it so bad, so bad, and he chews on the inside of his cheeks with such vigor that he draws blood.
He wants to believe that Whizzer will get better, because damn it, he deserves it. Someone once told him that all men get what they deserve, and Whizzer sure as hell didn’t deserve this.
But Marvin looks at Whizzer, his Whizzer, lying on the bed - and he just knows.
This is one fight they’re both going to lose.
Whizzer’s watching Marvin’s expressions go from elatedness, to wistfulness, to determination, to sadness and then - final resignation. And Whizzer knows too.
Silently, Whizzer holds out his hand, inviting Marvin back into bed, and Marvin slips in. It seems wrong to Marvin, the dying man holding the healthy, but Whizzer’s always been stronger anyway. They can pretend that nothing is wrong, but - Marvin’s stomach clenches. He’s not this good at denying reality. For the first time in maybe 20 years, through tears and sobs, Marvin prays. He prays for Whizzer’s pain to be taken away, prays that he would make it, that he would be okay. And Marvin prays that if Whizzer goes, God would take him too.
---
When Whizzer dies two weeks later, Marvin finds that he’s exhausted all his tears. He goes to Whizzer’s tombstone with the others, numb. Something hits him though, when he sees Jason placing a chess piece on Whizzer’s grave. Marvin immediately fishes out the small blue box from his coat pocket and walks up. Carefully, Marvin places the ring beside Jason’s chess piece. It’s a promise to love him forever, to let his memory live on. He stands back, and looks at all the other plain, dull tombstones around him.
“You asshole,” Marvin addresses Whizzer’s grave with a shaky laugh. “Of course yours would be the most expensive one around. God knows you’re not even going to see it.” But as Marvin leaves with the rest of the gang, Marvin imagines Whizzer bragging to whoever he’s with now about his lavish tomb, and Marvin can’t help but smile to himself. Even in death, Whizzer deserves the best - and the best damn tombstone was what he was going to get.
Whizzer would be proud.
end.