Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

He was done. He was really done. 

No more arguing. No more pain. No more mixtapes. No more Sweetheart. He was completely done with her. 

Because no matter how much it hurts, he thought that that pain would stay in his mind. And that surely, it would soon die out. No. It was in his lungs, too. Maybe that's why he couldn't stop coughing whenever she wasn't around.

It didn't really hurt, at first. Annoying, sure, but he could get behind some occasional coughing and throat itching. No one thought anything of it. Just Spaceboy being dramatic. This was normal. 

Maybe he should've asked for help when he started noticing himself struggle to breathe. 

He layed there in bed, helpless. Weak. Coughing. When was the last time he felt completely fine, anyway? His lungs started to ache. He should've asked for help. He couldn't. All that would come out is pathetic sobs and pain-filled coughs. 

But it didin't hurt. Everything was okay. He was just lovesick, right? Soon, he'd get over her, and he'd feel alright again. It didin't hurt. 

And then, the petals came. 

Spaceboy was hunched over the trashcan, coughing and dry heaving. Nothing came out. Nothing but spit. But he knew something was in his throat. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt. Perhaps he had underestimated his illness. Because there he was, with tears in his eyes, begging for it to come out of his poor throat. 

Petals. 

Petals spewed out of his mouth, and into the trashcan. They were pink, and spiky. Covered in spit, and a little bit- no, a lot of blood. 

They were red. God. They were red. 

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It didin't hurt as much. They weren't getting stuck in his throat anymore, making him choke on his own blood. Instead, they went up smoothly. Almost too smoothly. He'd need tissues beside his bed, because Spaceboy wouldn't dare to cough up blood, leaves and flower petals in his own bed when he expected it the least. Maybe some throat itching, but he was so used to that he couldn't tell which ones meant he was about to cough up petals. 

His pirates never noticed. Nobody did. They thought it was just for his tears. Maybe they should've noticed his struggle to breathe, or the occasional singular leaf on the ground. 

Why was he coughing up flower petals, anyway? He wasn't an expert in flowers, so he didin't know exactly what type they were, but what he did know was that they seem familiar. They were pink, and came in blood. Pink and red has always been Sweetheart's favorite.

He kept weeping in bed. Time passed by quickly, everything was the same, concerned check-ups and bloody tissues. Lots of bloody tissues. Too many. It hurt. It was excruciating. He wanted her back. He needed her back. He'd rather get bruised and humiliated again than endure one more day of this hell.

Maybe if she came back, he'd feel better. Emotionally, mentally, and physically. He was useless without her, wasn't he? Spaceboy whined. What would he even do with himself now? How pathetic... He should just die... 

Children's voices. He didin't know who they were, or what they were saying, but that didin't matter. All that mattered was how much it hurt. His throat itched. He could barely breathe. Whimpering, because it was all he could do. Useless. He's useless. 

Singing. Singing, and a familiar chiptune melody came from next to him. The mixtape. They got the mixtape. 

Anger. That's all he could feel. Everything was red, he was  seething. How dare they remind him of something so precious disgusting? 

"What... Is...that... Infernal... Racket!?!?"

His throat kept hurting. Any moment now. 

He threw off the covers. He doesn't need to stay in bed anymore. He doesn't want to. He could hold it in, right?

"FwahAHAHAH!! Fear me for I have awakened!!"

It didin't hurt, but it sure was uncomfortable. It kept trying to come out. He was almost gagging. All those hours of coughing and spitting up red and pink have left him sleep deprived.

His vision went blurry. It was red. Everything was red. Maybe if he keeps talking, he won't cough more petals up.

"Hnn... I..." He muttered, before gripping onto his bedsheets. He couldn't pass out. Not in front of a bunch of strangers. 

Spaceboy could barely even begin to think of his words before he fainted. He saw red. The kind that comes liquidy, and with pink . They're gonna know.

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Spaceboy opened his eyes. 

It was warm, and comfortable. Right, he was in his bed. Seems he had finally gotten the sleep he deserved. He looked around, and next to him, was one of his crewmates, Dude. 

"Capta- I mean, Space Boyfriend! You-you coughed up flowers!"  He said, with a concerned expression on his face. Of course. Spaceboy knew what would happen next. He could already hear it. "Why didin't you tell us you have  hanahaki!?  That stuff's serious!" Aaaand,  there  it was. 

"Because I know what you're gonna say! 'Ohhh, you should move on from Sweetheart, it's the only way to heal, blah blah blah...'" He replied, with clear annoyance in his tone. "I know I need to, but I can't!  She was everything to me!" 

Spaceboy glared. How could he just give up on the one person he loved dearly? Over a silly chronic disease? 

"You don't have to call me that anymore, by the way. I 'm Capt. Spaceboy!" He added. "I guess... I haven't eaten in awhile... How about some sno-cones?" Spaceboy suggested, smiling a little. Maybe a distraction would help. He can't puke if he's eating, right? 

"R-Really!? I, uhh... Let's get going then, captain!"

Spaceboy was eating his sno cone. It was strawberry flavored, his favorite. So much has been happening lately, he's been so stressed and miserable... But, at this very moment... Eating with his friends...He felt at peace. 

Maybe... Just maybe... He didin't need Sweetheart, after all. He's happier this way. 

Cough.  Blood and petals spat out, and stained his dessert. One of them was a small flower, albeit crushed up. He recognizes these flowers now... They're pink stars, Sweetheart's favorite. 

They had grown all over otherworld, and now, they were growing in his body, too. The thought was both gross, and oddly beautiful. He kinda liked it, weirdly enough. It was a grotesque reminder of his love, of his upbringing.

Guy seemed to notice the blood and petals. "Oh... You coughed on your sno cone... Do you want me to throw it out for you?" He asked. Spaceboy shook his head. 

"No, I'm fine...It's still edible!" Spaceboy responded, taking a lick of his sno cone. It tasted like metal now. How awful. Nonetheless, it still wasn't worth throwing out, atleast in his opinion. 

Of course Spaceboy knew Sweetheart was marrying herself, and he wanted to make sure that wouldn't happen. And so he did. 

Her eyes landed on the pink-haired man that had just arrived, angry. "What are you doing here!? I thought I told you to never come here again!" She yelled.

"Oh, Sweetheart! My sweetheart! My sweet jelly filled donut!" His voice was high-pitched and annoying. "Please, look into your heart and give me another chance!" He begged, pathetically.

"I should not have kept you waiting all these days." He said, walking over to her. His throat felt weird. But it didin't hurt at all. Maybe it's because he was too distracted. 

"I'm sorry I didin't do this sooner." The lights dimmed. The man suddenly yelled out. "Marry me, Sweetheart! Right here on this very stage!" Crouching down, he pulled out a small box and opened it. It was a ring. Ruby. Pink and red always looked good together. 

"Oh... My! This is all so sudden..." Sweetheart replied, as she placed her hands on her cheeks. "How... How... Romantic!"

She grabbed the ring, and put it on her finger. It was perfect. 

Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. 

Nothing hurt. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't make out anything she or the Sprout mole was saying, but that was okay. Everything was perfect. Her ring was red, and she was pink. It looked beautiful. She was always beautiful. Everything about this moment was beautiful. 

Even his lungs were beautiful. 

The kiss they shared was especially gorgeous. 

And yes, even the part where he accidentally spit a flower in her mouth was beautiful. 

Because even if he knew exactly what it meant, it was a symbol of his pure unhealthy love. 

Even if he knew he'd get punished for it.

Chapter Text

Before he knew it, they were fighting again.

It was loud, it was loud, it was loud. High-pitched screaming cursed his ears, and pure anger cursed hers. His throat was sore from all the coughing and yelling, and it hurt.  Spaceboy Space husband always hated exhausting his throat like this. Every other part of his body was exhausted, too. His ears were starting to ache, his head was throbbing, and his legs were barely holding up. He spit out a petal.

"I never said it was your fault!" She shouted, as Spaceboy found himself bring pushed. It was only a shove, but he stumbled away like he just got hit. The woman only continued her screaming. "All I said was that you need to control it more, but you got all angry!"

Space husband covered his ears. "God, will you quiet down already!? You're hurting my ears!" He groaned. Her voice only got louder, and she continued scolding him. The man fell to his knees in response and whined. He's lucky to have his hands muffle the noise. Of course, a good wife would never make her husband feel so overwhelmed. She had already dropped that title a long time ago. Yesterday, he wouldn't have hesitated to say that she's worth it, that he loves her despite all her flaws. Today? He's not so sure anymore.

He grasped the edge of the bed behind him before coughing up blood. "Ah- F-Fuck-" Flowers again? Drool and blood spilled from his mouth, and onto the pink floor. Sweetheart stepped away in disgust. "Ugh... You're unbearable..." She mumbled, covering her mouth to prevent her from gagging. He looked up at her pathetically.

"Please, please leave me alone," He thought. He would've spoke if he was able to. "It hurts..." The most he could mutter was a whimper. He placed his hand on his forehead, putting emphasis on how bad his migraine was. Dizziness and pain. How long has he just been arguing and coughing here? An hour?

He swore he felt himself slip in and out of consciousness. Space husband's eyes widened in fear as he saw her grabbing something heart-shaped, before falling flat on his face.

Space husband woke up, wincing from the sudden pain. His headache hasn't eased since he passed out. He noticed how comfortable he was, and weakly took a look at his surroundings. He was in Sweetheart's bed. The man closed his eyes. She didin't put him in the dungeon this time. He could rest.

"Good morning, my dear."

That high pitched voice again... Space husband reopened his eyes. Infront of him was of course, Sweetheart. With a smug look on her face, and her hands on her hips. "You!" She pointed at him. "Clean these floors! It's only fair after you stained them with your bodily fluids." She handed out a few tissues and stared at him. He hesitantly grabbed the tissues before mumbling something incomprehensible.

He crouched infront of the bed and started wiping away the blood and flowers the best he could. It was so humiliating. But he wouldn't dare to say no, because he knew how much more it would hurt if he disobeyed. His stomach growled. When was the last time he ate? He lazily looked up at her and held his stomach with his free hand. His throat was itching again.

"What? Are you hungry?" She asked bluntly, cocking her head to the side. "Well, too bad. We can't have everything we want in life."

Space husband whimpered. Of course. Of course he couldn't eat right now. Silly him. Husbands need to obey before they're even allowed to have basic rights. He stared at the floor and stopped cleaning.

"What? Why'd you stop!?" She questioned, her voice raising in volume. Space husband flinched and looked away. "I.. I'm just tired..." He responded, his voice small and shaky. It was pathetic, really. Sweetheart only got angrier. She let out a small huff before shouting. "Tired? Tired!? What a dumb excuse! Do your work, will you!?" The man went still. He just stared. He wouldn't dare to move or speak up. Not like he physically could, anyway. He finally moved when he saw her raise a flail.

Space husband found himself in the dungeon. It was cold, it was cold, it was cold. He hugged his knees in an attempt to warm up. How much longer until he'd get to leave? It was so, so uncomfortable. The man looked down and the hard floor and thought. Would anyone even miss him if he died? If he were to go missing... Would anyone notice? He found himself tearing up.

He put his arm up to his mouth and coughed. Blood, spit, and pink stars. He coughed again. His sleeve was so wet. He tried his best to rub it off and closed his eyes. Maybe he could sleep through it all.

He was hunched over, shaking, with tears in his eyes. It hurts, it hurts so much. The flowers bloodied the cold floor more and more. Why couldn't he have just stayed asleep? Everything hurts. He's overwhelmed with vomiting noises and the taste of metal. He desperately gripped onto a metal bar, and coughed out one more flower. It's over.

He fell back down on the floor with a small sigh. It's over. Pink and red surrounded his entire body, and, oddly enough, he thought they looked pretty. Everything hurt. Space husband was in so much stress, and he needed relief.

He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a small blade.