Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

I'm not depressed. 

I am absolutely, one hundred percent sure that I am not depressed. 

But apparently, one hundred percent sure isn't sure enough, according to my mother. 

Ever since she read that goddamn article, or whatever it was that she read, about depression in terminally ill children. I'm barely even a child anymore, so I don't know why she's getting like this. 

She forces me to my GP on a morning where I'd much rather be thinking about the inevitable onslaught of death while sitting comfortably somewhere in the house. He agreed with her that I am in fact depressed. 

What horseshit. 

So, thanks to this twat doctor and my mom's hypochondria on my behalf, I am now somewhat diagnosed with depression. My medication was slightly adjusted. Nothing I can't handle. 

Except when my mom hovers constantly over me, when she's not doing... whatever it is that she does. I honestly have no clue at this point, but she's always reading something, or typing something. I've just assumed at this point that it's about cancer. My cancer, someone else's cancer, or just general cancer. 

I almost feel kind of bad, she's become obsessed and paranoid because of me. She was only sixteen when she had me, I definitely wasn't planned, this definitely wasn't planned. 

I don't even blame her for thinking I'm depressed, to be honest. Knowing you're dying is pretty fucking depressing sometimes. And when you're someone not dying looking in on someone who is dying, well, it's hard to imagine how they're coping. 

So, I hold my tongue around my mom. I understand her worry. 

I hold my tongue, at least, until she demands I go out and socially interact with others like myself. At a support group. 

'Fuck no.' I insist, perched on a kitchen chair, trying to stomach some of the toast she made me. 

'Language, Levi.' She scolds, and I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I reply sarcastically instead. 

'English.' 

She tuts, biting into her own slice of toast. It's a good thing the support group starts in the evening, because it's giving her plenty of time to convince me. Or try. 

'You're a little hermit, Levi, you need to make friends.' 

So I'm not alone when I die? I suddenly feel the tickle of the plastic tubes of my cannula on my face and the inside of my nostrils. They used to drive me insane, but I only really notice them when I concentrate nowadays. 

'You think I'm going to make friends at a support group? In a church? I'll fucking burst into flames as soon as I step in the place.' 

She tuts again, and I know it's because of the swears. I wonder if she'll ever give up on scolding me when I swear. 

'You can't hide inside forever, baby.' She says, voice softer than before. 

'Incorrect. I totally can.' I counter, but I feel a little guilty about fighting her like this. She wants what she thinks is best for me, even though what she thinks is best for me sounds like my worst fucking nightmare. 

'Levi...'

I sigh, more dramatically than necessary. I'm crumbling. 

'I'll miss my show.' I say quietly, nibbling at a crust. Mom smiles. 

'Y'know, that's what taping is for.' 

And that's how I end up in the passenger seat of our crappy car on the way to the little church in our town, my little oxygen cart sitting between my calves as I fiddle with the handle. Anxiety - another thing Mom thinks I might have, except she's probably not wrong. I've always hated being around people. 

The town is a little shitty, I can't lie. I used to be excited for the day I'd leave and live somewhere on my own, but I know now that it's unlikely I ever will. It used to make me a little.

Mom pulls into the lot, going to park as close to the church as she could, which probably isn't hard considering there are about three cars in the entire lot. I don't really want to get out of the car, I can already see a few people going inside, and when mom has parked her attention slaps back onto me. 

I suddenly regret giving in. 

'You gonna get out? There's only five minutes until it starts.' 

'I'd sooner die.' 

As soon as the words leave my mouth I regret it, and Mom gasps a little before going quiet. She looks really fucking hurt. 

'Sorry, Mom.' I want to say it's just a figure of speech, too, but when you are painstakingly aware of the fact that your lungs could pack it up and kill you any second it sort of isn't anymore. Mom probably feels the same about it, I realise. She just turns back to me and smiles, but it's not really a proper smile. 

'Please go, baby. If it's awful I won't make you go again, I promise.'

I stare at the doors to the church, and then go back to staring at my oxygen cart and fiddling with the handle. She notices, of course, she notices most things I do. 

'Are you going to have an anxiety attack?' She asks, her tone coming off worried. I don't blame her, I'm kind of worrying about it, too. You see, shit lungs and anxiety attacks do not pair well. I really don't want a trip to the hospital today, I have my show being taped at home and I'd like to watch it.

'I'll be fine.' I reply, but Mom doesn't look convinced. I roll my eyes. 

'Mom, surely you have shit to do. Go do it, be untethered from your burdens.' 

This time it’s Mom who rolls her eyes. 'You're never a burden, Levi.' 

It's a stone cold lie. My mother is only thirty three years old, she should be living life rather than watching constant reruns of Kitchen Nightmares with her almost-adult son. 

Huh. Maybe I see where she's coming from now about me living life. 

'I'm going, Mom.' I say, opening the car door and awkwardly maneuvering around my tubes and lifting my little cart from the car. It's not very heavy, and my uncle made a little cart for the tank to sit in. He's good with random shit like that. 

'Make friends! I love you!' 

She yells it so loud out of the window that I want to cringe, but I just give her a thumbs up, I refuse to smile where weird strangers could bear witness. Then I remember that she's constantly scared she'll never speak to me again when she leaves me anywhere. 

'Love you too.' I say quietly, the words somehow passing the weird barrier I have between my brain and my speech that often stops me from saying emotional shit like that. She beams so wide that any awkwardness I had about it went away. 

I don't show that, of course. 

I shut the car door and extend the handle on my cart and make my way over to the doors. Mom doesn't drive away, and it's like she's waiting for me to go inside to make sure I'm not doing anything rebellious teenager shit. Like I have any friends to do that with anymore. 

I take the stairs, elevators fucking terrify me, even though the stairs take the minimal breath I have out of me. Luckily, there are chairs, arranged in a ring. There are people engaging with each other everywhere, but I just sit in one of the little chairs and go back to fiddling with my cannula. 

Some guy comes in, the leader I guess, and everyone takes seats. This dude tells the story about his diagnosis and whatnot, he had prostate cancer but they caught it early enough. The thing that made it harder was his wife leaving him. Sucks. 

That alone takes up about fifteen minutes, and then, to my fucking horror, people start standing up and telling the rest about themselves. 

Fucking fantastic. 

I zone out for a few moments, and I'm absolutely terrified that I might have an anxiety attack. First of all, here, in front of people, and second of all because I might actually fucking die. And I need to know what happens on my show. Can't do that if I bite it here. 

I focus on my breathing, remind myself of the oxygen that's trickling through my nose and into my crap lungs. I can breathe (sort of). As I breathe, I direct my attention elsewhere, onto the girl who's standing up to talk. 

'I'm Nanaba, I'm seventeen, my pronouns are she/her, and I just had a recurrence .' 

Oh shit. 

'Had my eye,' she gestures to her right eye, 'cut out when I was a kid, this one's just glass.' 

I kind of stare at her face for a minute, trying to tell the difference between her glass eye and her real one through the lenses of her glasses. I can't really tell. 

'And now I'm getting the other one removed,' she says, but her voice isn't as sad as I expect it to be, for a girl who was about to- , 'which will leave me blind.' 

That part sounds a little more sad, and I don't blame her. I'm going to die in, well, at any time, really, but she's gonna have to be blind forever. It's bad to be sympathetic, it feels almost condescending. I learned that all too well when people were sympathetic towards me after my diagnosis, so I try to focus on something else to get the thoughts out of my mind. 

Nanaba sits down, and she runs her hand through her frankly striking blonde hair. I think it's natural. She's kinda got a haircut like mine. 

The circle moves around, and soon enough it's my turn to humiliate  myself in front of strangers. The only thing that makes it a little easier is the fact that said strangers have had similar experiences to me, they're less likely to judge, I guess. The leader guy says something about me being new, and I just kinda nod and stand up, making sure the tubes of my cannula don't get caught in anything. 

'I'm Levi.' I say quietly, and I swear to fuck if one of these bastards asks me to speak louder I'll lose my shit. Listen harder. 'I'm seventeen, he/him, and-' 

I cut off for a split second, am I allowed to swear in a church? I just wanna get the message across that my lungs do fuck all. I decide against it, for safety. 

'My lungs kinda don't work. Thyroid cancer spread to them, which is rare, apparently. Lucky me.' 

That last comment gets a few nose-laughs from people. Maybe mom is right about my bluntness and sarcasm being funny. I never really understood it. 

'And how are you, Levi?' 

I don't ever really know how to answer that question. 

'I'm fine.' I reply after a moment’s hesitation, and sit back down again. I'm starting to get tired. 

The circle moves around, and then who I'm assuming are the more confident members of this little group start standing up to talk about  their battles or whatever. One of them, a young kid at about thirteen with leukemia, talks about dying, and I become a little more aware of my breathing. 

The hour comes to an end fairly soon, and when it does the leader guy says a prayer (glad I didn't swear, if he's religious). I kind of pretend to go along with it. When we are 'dismissed' in a way, I am one of the first to stand up, and I spot the blonde girl, Nanaba, coming up to me. Great, socialisation. 

'Hey,' she says, and then a little quieter, 'you don't have to talk to me, but I'm pretty sure the group over there wanted to come talk to you. You don't seem like the type to wanna talk a bunch, so I thought I'd pretend we're having a conversation.' 

Huh. I look her up and down. She's definitely the kind of girl that, if I were a girl or whatever, I'd be jealous of. The popular type, but not a bitch. I cringe when I admit it, but she's actually sort of pretty.

'Thanks.' I say, extending the handle of my cart so I can wheel it to the stairs. Nanaba smiles. 

She doesn't talk the rest of the way across the church and to the stairs, and she doesn't offer to carry my cart. I'm thankful, because I fucking hate when strangers ask that. If I wanted someone to, I'd ask. Plus, it's like an extension of my body, and I don't really want people touching it. 

We step outside, and mom’s car is still in the same spot. I feel guilty again, did she ever leave? She's reading something, though, and doesn't look for me. There's another car in the lot, a fucking fancy ass convertable car, and Nanaba waves to the driver. 

'I'll see you... if you ever come back again, I guess.' She said, smiling a little. 

'Yeah, see you.' 

I watch as she walks to the car, and the guy in it gets out to greet her. He's fucking huge, in a muscly way, that is. I immediately divert my eyes as they begin to fucking make out in the middle of the parking lot. 

I take it as my cue to go to get in our car, and as I get closer Mom notices me and beams. As soon as I get in, she asks- 

'So? Did you make new friends?' 

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. 'Kinda. There’s a nice girl who saved me from interacting with anyone else.' 

'Are you going to go again next week?' 

I shrug. 'Why not?' 

So, the support group kinda blows after a couple of weeks. 

Leader Guy (whose name I can never remember) tells his story every time, even if there are no new people in the room, and I often sit across from Nanaba so we can communicate through subtle eye rolls and sighs every time this guy brings up his asshole. 

So, on about the fourth week of going I sort of just want to stay home. The only thing that keeps  me there was my almost conversations with Nanaba. We aren't friends, that's too much, but having an acquaintance is kind of alright. 

But on the fourth Sunday I am supposed to go, or supposed to skip, I guess, Mom miraculously has somewhere she needs to be in town. I don’t know why that means I have to go to support group until I realise that it is closer to where she needs to be than our house. 

I go to ease her worry, but make sure I tape the latest episode of my show coming out. The last ended on a cliffhanger. 

I take the stairs, awkwardly carrying my cart upwards. I heard someone take the lift last week, and there's no fucking way that thing is stable. I'd sooner get in my coffin. 

I'm prepared to take my normal seat across from Nanaba, but I stop in my tracks when I see that she's with someone who I haven't seen before. Even from where they're standing with their backs to me, I can tell it's not her boyfriend (or who I assume is her boyfriend, and not just some random guy she tongues in the parking lot). 

I go and take my seat in the circle, but it's not very long until I feel someone fucking staring me down. I look up, and it's the person Nanaba's with. I can more clearly see from this angle that she's a girl. She's sitting next to Nanaba, who's talking to her about something, but she doesn't seem to be listening as she stares at me. 

I stare straight back, trying to keep my face straight. She's sort of a mess, her baggy jeans are ripped like fuck, (I assume they weren't made like that) and so are her shoes, yellow Converse that had clearly lost some brightness since being first worn. She's wearing two necklaces that are tangled in eachother, and her hair is a fucking mess. Not to mention that fucking posture. 

But she's kinda hot, I can't lie. Like the cool girl in clique teen movies (that I obviously don't watch...) 

We keep staring at each other, and Nanaba looks sort of confused as she looks between us, but the girl says something to her without breaking eye contact, and Nanaba laughs. Are they making fun of me?

I mean, I am sort of ugly, I guess. I'm shorter than most guys my age, at five feet three inches, and I'm kinda pale as fuck. My hair is alright, I guess, but I have kinda chubby cheeks that look a little weird considering the rest of me is pretty skinny. They look weird to me, at least. I have quite a bit of acne scarring on my cheeks, too. Even pre-diagnosis I looked kinda like this, I've never had much confidence about it. 

So yeah, they could totally be making fun of me. 

The staring contest stops when Leader Guy takes his seat, and the girl looks away from me to look at him. He tells his asshole story again, and Nanaba and I fall into our usual routine of communicating through subtle exasperated movements. Her friend doesn't seem to get why we're so tired, because she seems to be listening keenly to his story. 

When the asshole story finishes, everyone goes around the circle. Nanaba announces that she has surgery in a couple of weeks for her eye, after which she'll be totally and completely blind. Her boyfriend helps, apparently, and I finally learn her friend’s name when she tells the group how great it is to have a friend like Hange. 

I assume the girl next to Nanaba is Hange, at least. The attention is suddenly on her and she stands up. 

'Hey, I'm Hange, I'm seventeen, they/them, and I'm in remission.' 

I feel a little bad for seeing them as a girl. 

'I had osteosarcoma just over a year ago, I lost my leg.' 

They waggle their left leg a little, and I assume that underneath there is a prosthetic limb, hence the strange lack of jean rippage in that particular area. 

'But,' they say, their voice dripping with optimism that I've long lost, 'I'm doing great, and I'm just here today because Nanaba wanted me to be.' 

The circle gets to me, and I say the exact same thing I have for the past few weeks. 

'Levi, he/him, thyroid spread to lungs, and I'm fine.' 

I wish I could just say that my lungs are shit, but I'd rather not swear in God's house and burst into flames or whatever. 

I feel Hange staring at me again as I sit down, but I can't really be bothered to hold their gaze. Instead, I fiddle with my cannula. The more talkative members of the group start to speak, and I sort of zone out as people talk about their optimism. Must be nice, I've always been a pessimist. 

It ends fairly quickly after that, it always does. An hour isn't as long as it sounds. I stand up, and as usual Nanaba comes over to me to spare me the misery of talking to others, except this time she's actually bringing me the misery that is socialisation with a fucking stranger. 

'Hey, Levi.' She said happily as I readied my cart to be dragged along to the stairs. Her friend is looking me up and down, and it makes me a little nervous. 

'Hey.' I replied, hoping that Nanaba already gave the heads up about my lack of social battery. 

'You come here all the time?' Hange asks, and I internally groan. 

'Few weeks now.' I reply bluntly, trying not to blush at them. They are hotter up close and I hate how their eyes seem to flirt with me.

'He's cute.' They say to Nanaba, as if I'm not standing right fucking here next to them. I'm more annoyed at the compliment, mainly because it's taking all of my willpower not to blush like a fucking idiot. Nanaba says something that I can't quite hear in my state of 'holy shit someone just acknowledged me beyond someone with weird tubes all over their face who should be pitied', and Hange smiles. 

'Hey, hey, you should tell Levi about what your brother said the other day!' They say excitedly, probably a little too much so. Nanaba rolls her eyes (although I don't think she does it because of Hange) and turns to me. 

'Right, so my little brother, he's thirteen, deadass says to me 'hey Nana, I don't know about you but I'd rather be deaf than blind' while I'm sat there with my mom getting all of this tech shit that'll help me, like, have my texts read out to me or whatever.' 

I don't really know what to say, I don't know much about sibling relationships as an only child. Plus, I can feel Hange's eyes boring into me. 

'I would'a hit him.' I say eventually, and Nanaba grins. 

'Oh, I did. I'm not gonna be able to do that when I'm blind, 'cus I won't be able to see him and whatnot. At least he said sorry, but he just don't get it, you know?' She sounds a little sad. 'Maybe he will when I'm actually blind and he has to, like, help me out a bunch.’' 

She shrugs, and then turns to Hange. 

'I gotta go; Mike's waiting for me. Gotta get an eyeful of him while I still can.' 

I walk down with them, and thankfully Hange doesn't offer to carry my tank either. I notice that they walk a little lopsided, and I guess it's because of their prosthetic. Mom's car isn't in the lot just yet, so I'm left there with Hange when Nanaba goes off to meet her boyfriend. As usual, they immediately begin making out as if they're in private and not in a fucking parking lot. 

'They're uh, really into PDA.' Hange explains, as if it's not obvious. I turn away, sort of cringing. 

'Seriously,' they say, 'hanging out with them is the most awkward shit I've ever done in my life, and I don't get awkward.' 

Clearly. 

'What's your name.' They say, even though they had obviously heard me say it in the support group. I repeat it, though, maybe they just didn't hear. 

'Levi.' 

'Yeah, but like, what's your full name?' 

A bit fucking creepy, but okay. 

'Levi Ackerman.' 

'Huh,' they say as if it's the most interesting thing in the world, 'it's a cool-ass name, Levi Ackerman.' 

I cringe at the use of my full name. 'What's yours, then?' I ask, and for a split second I worry about my tone being too harsh until they grin. 

'Hange Zoe.' They say it like it's a grand announcement. It's a little odd, but in a nice way. In a kinda cool way. 

'Cool.' 

'Y'know, Levi Ackerman,' they go on, 'you look just like this guy from a movie I watched, you should watch it.'

I narrow my eyes at them in skepticism. They grin. 

'Like, with me, at my house.' 

Is this flirting? I can't tell. They're staring at me very intensely. 

'First off, why are you staring at me like that? It's creepy. Second, you could just take me to some random ass place and murder me.' 

Hange laughs. 'To address the second point,' they say in a kind of professional manner, 'that is totally and one hundred percent true, I absolutely could. But, and this brings me to the first point, you are very cute and I don't particularly wanna murder you.'

Okay. I think this is flirting. They're flirting with me. But I'm not sure if I should be insulted at the use of 'cute', it feels almost condescending coming from them, considering that they're really fucking hot and must know it. 

'And also,’ they say, shoving their hand in their pocket to remove something, 'I wanna know if Levi Ackerman is as cool as he sounds.' 

It's weird. This whole thing. Is this a normal thing for making new friends? Do they always go to each other's houses and shit so early on?

They pull out some car keys from their pocket, and a pack of cigarettes falls out from their pocket. Just like that, I'm pissed. 

'Are you actually fucking serious?' I snap as they collect the box from the floor hastily. They open their mouth, but I interrupt. 

'What, do you want lung cancer? D'you wanna know what it feels like to feel your lungs fucking fill up with liquid, huh? Not being able to breath is the fucking worst, alright? It fucking hurts.'

I hate how weak I sound on the last part, and how I probably look like a stupid stroppy child right now. I hate how I meet someone who shows some kind of interest in me and they're intentionally giving themselves a fucking disease.

'They're not mine,' they say quietly, and I want to dismiss their claim but they stop me, 'they were my dad’s, the last pack he ever had before he died of lung cancer.' 

Wow. So I'm kind of an asshole right now. 

But they smile.

'I had cancer, dipshit, I'm not gonna go and give myself the possibility of more cancer.' 

I look past the fact that they called me a dipshit, because I kind of am right now, and as I look at the pack further it does look really old and battered. 

'I-I'm sorry.' I mumble, kind of hoping my mom will pull up in the parking lot and save me from this nightmare. Hange just laughs again. 

'Nah, I know how it looked. Don't sweat it.' 

I'm getting a little tired from standing, and I debate sitting down on the curb to wait for mom. Then Hange speaks again. 

'So, d'you wanna watch that movie with me?' 

They're grinning, and I notice that they have a little horseshoe shaped piercing in front of their front teeth. I shrug. 

'I'll ask my mom.' 

As if on cue, her car pulls into the lot, and she parks fairly close. I walk over and gesture for her to roll down the window. 

'Can I go see a movie?' 

She looks behind me for a split second at where I left Hange standing on the sidewalk, and I can tell that she's barely containing her excitement. 

'Sure, sure,' she says, hiding her excitement pretty awfully, 'd'you need cash? What will you eat?' 

'I, uh, won't need cash, I'm going to their house, I think.' 

Mom raises an eyebrow, and tries to make herself look stern but fails. 'Is this where, as a mother, I'm supposed to tell you to be safe-' 

'Ew, mom, Jesus. No, never. Never say those words ever.' 

She laughs at me a little. 'Have fun, baby. I'm glad you've made a friend.' 

I cringe internally. 'Thanks.' 

'Back by ten, yeah? God, it feels good to give you a curfew, considering you're actually going out.' 

I roll my eyes. 'Yeah, ten. And I'm not that antisocial.' 

Mom smiles, and rolls down the window. I step away from the car so she can drive away. Hange is beside me before I can go back to the sidewalk. 

'Wow, your mom is pretty! Guessing she said yeah?' 

'Yeah, she did.' I say, ignoring the thing they said about mom being pretty. It just feels a little weird, that or I'm just protective of her. 

'Awesome. My truck is over there.' 

They point to a black truck on the other side of the lot, close to where Nanaba's boyfriend's car had been. They begin to walk, and I follow a little slower, dragging my cart against the smooth road. They unlock the truck, and I go to get in the passenger seat, buckling my seatbelt carefully around the tubes. 

They are a fucking terrible driver. 

They range between driving above the speed limit, to braking incredibly hard when they need to stop. If I don't die from cancer, I'm going to die in this fucking car. 

'I swear I'm trying to be gentle.' They say every time they brake. Luckily, it isn't a very long drive to their house— only about ten minutes in the Deathmobile. 

Hange's house is really nice; two stories, big, with a really neat front lawn with flowers and shit. It didn't really fit the chaos that seemed to be Hange. 

'Welcome to my humble abode.' They announce as we come up to their front door. They push it open without unlocking it, so their parents (or their mom, I guess) must be home. I feel a little anxious. 

'Don't worry about my mom.' They say, as if they read my mind. ‘She’s a little enthusiastic like me, but nothing to worry about.' 

I nod, and follow them past the stairs and through their living room to where I assume the kitchen is, and as soon as we're close enough I can hear their mom call out. 

'Hans? Are you home, honey?' 

Hans? I look over to them, and they shrug. 'Nickname.' They explain. 

We get to the kitchen, and I kind of hover in the doorway as Hange goes further into the room. Their mom is sitting at the counter with a laptop.

'Mom, this is Levi Ackerman,' Hange points to me, 'we were gonna watch a movie.' 

I feel the need to pipe up. 'It's just Levi.' 

Their mom smiles, she looks a lot like Hange, or Hange looks a lot like her, I guess. 

'Nice to meet you, Levi,' Their mom says, 'We get takeout on Sundays, is there anything you don't like, sweetie?' 

The name makes me want to cringe. It feels wrong when it's not my mom saying sappy shit like that. Although, she never quite got that cringey. But Hange's mom is nice, so I bite back my discomfort. 

'N-not really, I, uh, just don't eat a whole bunch.' I say quietly, my social anxiety kind of creeping out like an ugly bug from its hiding place. Their mom makes a dismissive gesture with her hand. 

'Don't worry, I'm sure if you didn't want anything to yourself, Hans wouldn't mind sharing a portion. She do- they, sorry honey, don't eat much either.' 

I think it's sweet that Hange’s mom is accepting of their pronouns, I always see shit online about parents just... not. The fact that she apologised and corrected herself kind of told me a lot about what kind of parent she is. Kinda warms my stone cold heart. 

'We have to remind them to eat, most of the time.' Their mom chimes in. Hange groans beside me, and their mom laughs. 

'Go watch your movie, just call up or text what you'd both like.' She said happily, and Hange makes to leave. Their mom smiles at me, and I force an awkward smile back. I think I'd feel really fucking bad if I didn't. 

Hange actually takes me to their room, which is in the basement. I slowly walk down the stairs; I'm already really tired from all of the standing I've done today, and they look up at me from where they're already at the bottom and I'm still halfway up. 

'Ah shit, would it have been better to sit upstairs and watch?'

I shake my head, but I decide against speaking. I don't have much breath to waste on it in the first place, let alone with how tired I am now. 

They wait for me at the bottom of the stairs until I'm the whole way down, smiling at me when I make it. It doesn't feel condescending, though. 

We round the corner of the stairs, and I get a glimpse of the room. It's huge, and really fucking nice, actually. At first, I freak out a little because it looks messy, but it's clean, very clean in fact, and the mess is just from all of the trinkets and plants they have scattered across the room. There are even plants hanging from little rope hammocks attached to the ceiling. 

It's like something you'd see in a movie, honestly. There's an old brown couch with a blanket dangling on the back, and worn looking cushions. I can't wait to fucking sit down; I'm so tired, but I look around a little more. I never thought myself to be a nosy motherfucker, but I guess I am. 

Their TV is huge, and there's an Xbox resting on a little shelf from underneath where it's hung on the wall. Beyond the 'living area'  of sorts was their bed, and there's a little curtain pole attached to the ceiling and a curtain dangling down-- presumably to seperate where they slept from the rest of the room. I can see in there, though, and their bed is unmade and messy. There’s a flag on the wall, and I think I recognise it as the non-binary pride flag. 

I don't know why I'm focusing on everything so much, maybe I'm just worried that I'll never come in here again and have to forget the coolness of it all. It's pretty fucking cringe how excited I am about a goddamn room. 

I turn to look behind me to see if there's anything else I've missed, and there are a few shelves on the wall that are littered with trophies. 

'They're science fair trophies,' Hange explains, 'I was kind of a prodigy, I guess, before I got my diagnosis.' 

I look below the shelves, and I jump back at the sight. 

'You've got fucking snakes?' 

Hange laughs, but I feel kind of flinchy knowing they're there. There are multiple tanks, and I actually begin to notice others across the room that I just thought were cabinets, and in only a couple can I actually see snakes. There's a tall one in the corner, though, in which is some kind of weird lizard thing. 

'And a lizard?' 

'I have three snakes: one female veiled chameleon in the tank in the corner,' they point to the weird lizard, 'two chinese water dragons in the massive tank and a blue tongue skink in my bedroom.' 

I feel tense. I don't think I've ever seen a real life reptile before, let alone the many Hange has. Come to think of it, they seem sort of like the type to have weird pets. Hange puts a hand on my shoulder. 

'They're friendly, don't worry. I can introduce you?' 

As much as my curiosity wants to be satiated, I feel extremely tired. 

'Can I, uh, maybe sit down?' I ask, looking back at the couch. Hange gestures towards it. 

'Be my guest, Levi Ackerman.' 

'Y'know,' I say as I sit down, 'you don't have to call me that every time.' 

They nod, grinning. 'I know.' 

They seem to be assessing the reptile tanks behind me, and I hear them cooing at each individual animal. I want to find it cringey and annoying, but it's sort of cute, I guess. I've never had a pet, even though I've always wanted one, and I think I'd say cringey shit to it, too. 

When they're done explaining their entire fucking day to the reptiles, they come back to sit next to me, sprawling across their side of the couch. Awful posture, like earlier. 

'So, tell me about you, Levi.' They say happily, looking at me with curious eyes, their glasses sort of slipping down their bumpy nose. 

'I was diagnosed at thirteen with thyroid cancer. It spread to my lungs. Shit hurts. That's about it.' 

Hange tilts their head. 'Not what I meant, but interesting. I thought that was pretty rare.' 

I shrug. 'I think it’s, like a 3% chance, I think.' 

Hange looks curious. 'Huh.' 

I can tell there's more they want to ask, and if it were someone who hadn't been through something similar I probably would be pissed about it. 

'You can ask.' I say. 

Hange shook their head. 'Nah, it's nothing. My morbid curiosity as a scientist is all.' 

I remember the science trophies on the shelves behind us. 

'Sorry,' they say, but before I can say anything else they keep going, 'I ask questions like that because I don't mind being asked, I can kinda forget about-' 

'Oi, Hange, I don't care about being asked. You wanna be my friend, right? You have a right to know. Would be different if it was some random fuck on the street.' 

I'm a little out of breath from how fast I spoke, and it's clearly obvious because Hange puts their hand on my arm. 

'Fuck, you're cold.' They gasp, pulling their hand back before placing it back there to, I assume, provide reassurance. 

'Lack of oxygen.' I explain, and Hange makes a little 'huh' sound again. 

'I can bring my reptiles to you, if you want to see them? I need to handle them. Some of them, at least.' 

I figure, ‘why the fuck not,’ and nod. 

The first pet they bring to the couch is a large orange and yellow snake (a corn snake, apparently) called Albert. I stroke him a little, but kind of (embarrassingly) freak out when he tries to crawl up my fucking arm. I make an excuse about him tangling in with my cannula. Hange seems to buy it. 

Hange brings out another snake; a brown and white one that they say is a California kingsnake, called Chicachironi (I have no fucking idea what kind of name that is, but the snake was cool I guess). 

Their third snake, a ball python, is called Bert. I freak out again when he comes near me. They all seem to be very friendly towards me. It's freaky. 

The chameleon doesn't like to be handled, apparently, so Hange shows me pictures. Her name is Annie. Then they go and get a pair of small dark green lizards from the big tank, the chinese water dragons. They're fucking terrifying. They run fucking fast, and one of them climbs up my arm. I'm definitely not proud of the noises I made. Hange found it funny. They introduce the lizards as Sawney and Bean.

Their final reptile is a fucking massive lizard, and I don't let Hange bring it anywhere near me. It's got a blue tongue, and Hange calls him Reiner. 

The rest of the evening passes uneventfully; we kinda just talk about ourselves. Their parents order pizza, and we share one but still can't finish the whole thing between us. 

Hange is doing an online course in biology, which doesn't surprise me, they seem like the type. I tell them I'm studying French Lit at college. I barely notice that it's almost ten until they ask whether I need to be home. We sort of scramble out of the door, but that doesn't stop them from writing their phone number on my hand before I get out of their truck. 

Mom is waiting up for me, and she wants to know everything, but I'm so fucking tired I can hardly think straight, and I feel like a little kid when I fall asleep with my legs in her lap, and she tries not to wake me when she carries me upstairs. Mom is pretty fucking strong, in more ways than one. 

Hange and I text for a couple days, and it's been a long time since I've had a text conversation with anyone other than my mom (although she's never really gone for long enough for it to be necessary, it's normally when I'm being lazy and texting her from upstairs). 

It's unusual that I get woken up by Mom, but that's how it went this morning. I was up kinda late talking to Hange, they never know how to stop talking and I never know how to stop listening, even when it's random bullshit they're on about. 

It's almost eleven when she wakes me up, shaking me gently awake. I groan as the light hits my eyes. 

'Sleep fights cancer, Mom.' I say, relaying the thing that she always told me when I would stay up late watching TV and the like. She laughs from her nose. 

'I know, baby, but you've got a class at twelve, and today's your half birthday!’

Ah right, my Mom's drastic overkill of finding random things to celebrate. I understand why better now, better than I did at fourteen when it started, so I never really have the heart to shut her down. 

'Yeah, what did you want to do after class?' I sit up and my mom attaches my cannula to a portable oxygen tank rather than the concentrator. 

'Why don't you see Erwin or someone?' 

Erwin was a friend from highschool, before I got pulled out fairly quickly into my first year. It's kinda hard maintaining a friendship when you're dying, it's kind of hard to hang out with someone who pities you because you're dying. That's why it's easy to hang out with Hange and Nanaba. I guess they know what that feels like, too. 

I don't hate Erwin or anything. I understand, actually. It's kind of like Mom, how she's constantly worried about me because she's someone looking in on my cancer, like my chest is a window. It's still a little different, though, because she sees more, and the more you see, the less pity you give, I guess. Erwin didn't know how to react, because he had no idea about what was really going on. He was a person looking in, completely unknowing as to how I cope. 

I shrug. 'Nah. What do you wanna do?'

Mom rolls her eyes in jest. 'It's your half-birthday. You choose.' 

I take a moment to think. I don't really like to eat out at places, it's hard to tell what the portion size will be and I don't want to be wasteful. 

'We could just go get some shit and watch something here?' I suggest, and Mom scolds me on my use of language, but agrees. I've had a hell of a lot of social interaction for the past few days, I don't really want to go out somewhere.

She leaves me to get dressed, and I pull on a random pair of jeans and a long sleeve black tee from the closet. I have a message from Hange when I check my phone. 

four-eyes: why is french so hard to learn ???? 

me: wdym 

four-eyes: tryna learn french so i can talk to you in french ,, dipshit 

me: ur a dipshit 

four-eyes: no ,, you ;p 

Mom drives me to class, and I sit in a lecture hall for ninety minutes noting things in the margins of Thérèse Raquin and analysing segments of it. It's embarrassing that I actually really like the book, if Hange is learning I might give them a copy to read. 

We drive to the store together, mom even lets me drive there, and I let her pick out a half-birthday cake while I pick out a sleeve of mints and  a Snickers. I only get the Snickers to appease mom. 

I don't really know what I wanna watch, all I know is that I didn't really wanna be out, so Mom flicks through channels and all of the stuff I've recorded. Eventually we watch some show about paranormal investigators, it's pretty cool, to be honest. I record a bunch of episodes. 

About two and a half hours in, I get a phone call. I already know who it is without having to see the caller ID. I only have two contacts that actually show up on my phone, and one of them is right next to me. 

I pick up. 

'Levi Ackerman.' They say as a form of greeting. Next to me, Mom is watching me like a hawk with a smile. It makes me a little nervous.

'Yeah?'

'Would you like to come to my house and play video games with me?' 

I turn to mom, half expecting her to have been listening (or just casually hearing, Hange is kinda loud). But she looks at me funny. 

'Everything okay?' 

I tell Hange to hang on for a minute, and then turn back. 'Hange wants to hang out.' I explain. Mom pretty much squeals. 

'Okay, yeah, take the car. You're going to her house?' 

'Their house.' I say, and Mom looks confused. 

'Pronouns, Mom.' I try to explain, and I can see her processing it. I tell Hange I'm coming and to send me their address, and hang up. Mom is still processing when I look back.

'So, like,' she begins, 'Hange doesn't like to be called she?'

So this is a conversation that's happening. Maybe it needs to. My mom is young, but not this generation young, after all. 

'Basically. They're non-binary.'

'Non-binary,' Mom echos, 'so, like, breaking gender norms and stuff?' 

'I, uh, it can be, I think?' I say, although I'm definitely not the best person to be answering her questions. 'But I think sometimes it's like, about feeling like, not male or female? Or not completely one or the other, but a little bit?' I honestly don't have much of a fucking clue, Hange and I didn't talk about it much, only in passing when they spoke about coming out. 

'I don't really know what it's like for Hange.' I admit, and I feel a little guilty for not being able to provide mom with an explanation that I know is somewhat correct. In fairness, I don't think Hange would mind if she asked them questions. 

'So, when I talk about Hange, I say they or them, rather than she or her?' 

I clear my throat. 'Y-yeah.' 

Mom looks deep in thought. 'Huh, cool. I can do that. Fuck, I'm old.' 

It's rare that Mom cusses, but it's kinda funny when she does. I even smile. 

'Not that old, Mom.' I remind her. She's only thirty-three. I stand up and grab the car keys from where she'd put them on the table when we got in. 

'Back by ten.' She reminds me, and I nod. 

The drive to Hange's is only about fifteen minutes, and this time I'm not seeing my life flash before my eyes. Before I left, I grabbed my home copy of Thérèse Raquin that didn't have any notes in it for them.’

Their mom answers, and I force out a smile for her. Hange is down in the basement with Nanaba, apparently, and I hear a gut wrenching shriek from down there. Hange's mom flinches. 

'Poor girl.' She said, and lets me go past to the basement door. I'm not sure if I actually want to go down there.

'Do you need me to help you with your tank?' She asks when she sees my hesitation. I shake my head. 

'It's alright, but thank you.' 

I get about halfway down the stairs when Hange appears at the bottom. I hear Nanaba sobbing beyond. They meet me halfway. 

'I am sorry.' They say, their face kind of panicked. 'She showed up after I invited you here, and I figured I could use help? You're a guy, and all.' 

Dear God.

'Mike broke up with her.' They say quietly as we begin to descend together. 'Hey, what's that?' 

They point to the book in my hand as we reach the bottom and round the corner. I hand it to them. 

'French book. Sleazy husband, arranged marriage, passionate affair. Murder. You're learning, thought you might like it.' 

I realise how stupid the idea is when I say the words, and I'm sort of embarassed. It's sort of a nerd equivalent of giving a mixtape. Hange beams up at me though, and my worry sort of fades away. 

'Thanks! I'll dig right into it.' 

Nanaba is on the couch, playing a gun game on Hange's Xbox. Her glasses are on her head, though, and it's obvious that she can't see when she starts shooting at nothing. There are tears streaming from her eyes, and I feel thoroughly uncomfortable with the vulnerableness of it all. 

'Nana, Levi's here, from support group.' 

Nanaba remains unresponsive, just shooting at random things on the screen. Hange gestures for me to sit, and I get on the couch as far away from Nanaba as I can. I think Hange is tending to their reptiles, because I can just about hear them cooing over the sound of the video game. The game ends fairly quickly, and Nanaba puts the controller on the table. 

I have no clue what to say, and she's just sitting there, staring at the 'game over' screen. Luckily, Hange doesn't linger over her pets for very long, and plants themselves between us. 

'He didn't want to dump a blind girl.' Nanaba says quietly, and the previous happiness that would plague her tone was gone. The first thing that jumped into my mind was ‘asshole’.

'He wouldn't say 'I love you' back to me, for the past couple days. Wouldn't wanna do anything. That's not like him. It's just not like him, at all.' 

I want to cringe, this feels like a conversation I shouldn't be here for, but she seems to be talking to me and Hange at the same time. I fiddle with my cannula. 

'I just wanna go over there and break his stupid face. I wanna throw his heart back at him like he did with mine.' 

My discomfort increases. 

''I can't handle it, Nanaba', what the fuck is that supposed to mean? It's not his thing to fucking handle! I'm going blind, and I'm going to be fucking lonely and in the dark and-' 

I kind of unfocus my hearing and zone out for a moment. It's not particularly nice to hear. To imagine.

Hange puts their hand on my forearm, and I'm brought back to reality. Nanaba is crying with her face in a pillow. 

'You okay?' They ask, and I nod slowly. They don't seem to buy it. 

'Any manly advice, my darling?' 

I make a disgusted sound at the name, but it's mainly to cover up the way it seems to set me on fire and make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. 

'Uh, men are assholes?' I offer, and Hange laughs. Nanaba is unresponsive. 

'Y'know what you need, Nana?' They ask, turning to the blonde. 'You need to break something.' 

'I wanna be with him.' She mumbles, and Hange gets up off of the couch to look directly at her. 

'Well, first of all,' they say, placing a finger on the pretty gold necklace Nanaba is wearing, with an 'M' charm, 'get rid of that shit.'

Nanaba looks down at the necklace for a moment, before gripping the thin chain and ripping it off of her neck. Hange pretty much screams. 

'Yes, yes! Fuck that guy!' 

Hange's enthusiasm is kind of adorable. I hate how fuzzy it makes me feel to watch. I've known this person for, like, a week. It's fine, though, because I'll never let it happen. 

Nanaba laughs through her tears, and pulls off a ring to throw it in the trash with the necklace. Hange makes another triumphant noise. 

'Fuck yeah!' 

Hange's mom calls downstairs to ask if we want anything to eat, and both Hange and I look at Nanaba. She wants sushi, so that's what we end up eating while we watch Thelma and Louise. It's a good movie, although I'll never admit it out loud to anyone. 

Nanaba is staying over, so I'm the first to leave. Hange walks me to the door. 

'I'll start reading that book tomorrow,' they say, 'is it cheating if I look online for translations?' 

'Yes.' I reply bluntly. Hange laughs.

'I'll try my best, Levi Ackerman.' 

It feels like there's more they want to say, there's more I want to say, too. I want to tell them that I wanna hang out more, that I like being around them, that I'm grateful for them.

But I can't. 

So in the end, I just say goodbye. 

I'm not scared of dying. 

I thought I was scared of dying, back when I was thirteen and was going through my relentless treatments and surgeries and whatnot. It was scary, thinking I was dying back then, because I thought that if I hung on a little longer I'd survive. There would be a miracle. 

Now I know that there is no such miracle that would save me if I clung onto life. Mom, though, remains hopeful. 

I'm not scared of dying, but I am scared of killing those that I love. 

Maybe that's why I wait for Hange to call me, and distance myself as much as I can. 

The more they begin to care about me, the more I kill them when I die. If they're as fond of me as I am of them, then I'll be hurting them. Is it not best that I stop anything from growing while I still can?

But Hange is relentless. 

They update me with their (minimal) progress on the book. A lot. They call me to see how I'm doing, they invite me to go places. 

I just don't want to kill them, too. 

Mom is in too deep, she always was, she's my mother. Everyone else I can prevent. 

They text me one day to tell me that Nanaba's had her surgery, and asks if I want to go with them to see her. I realise I'll be an asshole if I say no, so they pick me up at my house. I make them ride shotgun. 

'You're avoiding me.' They say after a little small talk. I feel guilty. 

'You don't understand.' I reply, and they shake their head. 

'I do. More than you could ever know.' 

I want to follow up on that comment, but I don't know how. It's still a half hour until we get to the hospital. Luckily, they answer the question I couldn't ask. 

'My ex,' they begin, inhaling deeply, 'he did the same thing you're doing. While he still could, that is. He had a brain tumour.' 

I glance at their face, and they're looking straight at me. 

'You're my friend, Levi. Whether you try and shrug me off now or not, I'm still going to be sad when you die.' 

I feel even more guilty now. The damage has already been done. I also pick up on the word 'friend' and feel somehow disheartened and relieved at the same time. 

'I'm sorry.' I say, and I really do mean it. I've hurt them already and I'm still alive. 

'Just don't be a dipshit, you dipshit.' 

I laugh through my nose, trying to keep my face properly straight. 'Wise words.'

'I am a wise being, Levi Ackerman.' 

'Okay, sure. Dipshit.' 

'Okay.' 

When we pull up at the hospital and I park, I turn back over to face them. 

'Thanks for not saying 'if.'' 

I give up avoiding Hange after we see Nanaba that day. Although, I don't like the feelings I'm getting around them. 

It's a crush. A stupid crush, and I know damn well it is because every single time Hange even breathes I'm a stupid mess inside. It's embarrassing. 

I invite them around my house, because I feel bad that we always hang out at their house. To be fair, their house is way cooler, despite the terrifying reptiles in there. 

That, and my mom doesn't know how to play it cool. 

As soon as they're in the door, Mom is hovering over us, asking of we want anything, asking Hange hundreds of questions about meaningless things. They're wearing shorts today, too, which opened a gateway of questions from Mom about their prosthetic leg. To be fair to her, it's kind of interesting, but I don't like to look for too long. I hate when people stare at my tubes and my tank. 

Eventually, she has to run some errands, and she leaves us alone with a rerun of Kitchen Nightmares. Hange is sort of like me and Mom, they like to laugh when Gordon Ramsey yells at someone who's a-

'What a fucking dipshit.' Hange laughs, and only calms down when the ads start. I can't be arsed to reach for the remote on the table, so I just turn to talk to them. 

'Anyways, the book,' Hange says, their tone all business, 'I'm like, ten pages in, and you said sleazy husband but I didn't think you meant incest.' 

'It was acceptable for cousins to marry at that time period. And did you not read the back?' 

'I can't read French, I'm a science prodigy, not languages.'

I smile a little, but then catch myself and make my face straight. Hange sees though, of couse they fucking see. 

'Was that a smile I saw there, Levi Ackerman?' Hange teases, and I feel my cheeks going pink. I try to cover up my face, using my cannula as an excuse that they see straight through. 

'And blushing? You're losing your edge, my darling.'

Fuck, they know what they're doing. They must know. Being flirted with is very new to me, and I have no idea how to do it in return. 

'Shut up.' I say eventually, and they only laugh more. 

'You're cute.' They say, and it makes my heart hurt. It makes me think of their ex, the fact that I assume he's dead. I wouldn't want to die on them, too. 

'Can I ask you something?' They ask, and I think it's strange that they're actually asking. It must be a sort of touchy question. 

'Yeah.' 

They inhale deeply. 'Did you get a wish?' 

I instantly know what they're talking about. 

'Yeah, I did. I was practically on my deathbed.' 

'What did you use it on? And if you say Disney I will get two slices of bread, put your head between them and call you a clique sandwich.' 

I smile, and it makes them smile. 'I was too scared to travel that far. I had friends who moved across the country, and I used my wish to bring them here so we could see eachother again before I died. It was sort of a panic wish, I guess.' 

Hange smiles sadly, but then it turns to a grin. 'Bet they felt real scammed when you lived, huh?' 

I laugh a little. 'Yeah, there were a lot of tearful goodbyes.' 

They look curious again, though. 'What did you mean by panic wish?'

'If I wasn't convinced I was going to die pretty soon, I would have done something else. Still with those friends, though.' 

Kitchen Nightmares has come back on, but Hange doesn't seem interested anymore. 

'What would you have done?' 

My mind goes back to Thérèse Raquin, and how I've spent most of my educational life, in hospitals and dying or not, learning French and learning the culture. I love it, it's a big part of me, so it's a no brainer, really. Just not to little fourteen year old me when my lungs were filling up with liquid. 

'Gone to France, with the friends I was on about.' 

Hange smiled. 'I figured, kinda. That's awesome.' 

We watch the TV for a little bit in silence, the only sounds being the occasional laugh from Hange every time someone did something stupid. It was a comfortable silence.

The episode finishes, and the ads begin to roll again. I look over to Hange. 

'Did you have a wish?' I ask. They grin. 

'Yeah, but I never used it. I actually still have it.' 

Huh. Interesting. 

Mom comes home, and she offers to make us dinner. Turns out she was getting groceries, and she says she's gonna make us pasta. She loves Hange, I can tell. It's sweet, kinda. 

The three of us eat together on the couch, I'm between them both, and it feels kinda nice. I feel warm. It's a nice change. My shoulder hurts a bit, but I convince myself it's nothing to worry about. 

Hange goes home a little while after dinner, because they need to take care of their reptiles. They promise to show Mom some pictures next time they come round. As soon as they're out of the front door, Mom turns to me and grins. 

'You have a crush on them.' She teases. I feel myself go red. 

'Shut up.'