Chapter Text
“I’m afraid there’s nothing we can do.”
It was a sentence Gabe had spent his whole life dreading. Still, he had hoped he would at least make it to twenty-one. It seemed like a nice age to be. David had assured him it was not, but David did not value life the way Gabe did.
“Are you absolutely sure?” came a shaky voice from beside him. His mother.
Gabe thought it was a silly question, but could not bring himself to voice that thought. The naive part of him wanted to ask the same. Is there really nothing more you can do? Another surgery, new meds? An organ transplant?
“I’m afraid in cases like these, there is only so much we can do.” The doctor patted Gabe’s hand in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. “The best you can do now is to make sure he’s comfortable. Might I recommend a hospice? There will be good care for him there.”
Gabe was almost grateful that the doctor was not talking directly to him. That way he could pretend the words were being spoken to someone else, and he was just an outside observer.
The doctor handed Diana a flyer, which she took with shaking hands. “I’m very sorry,” he added. He turned to leave, but Diana began to protest.
“There has to be something you can do,” she begged, words laced with desperation.
“Mrs Goodman, his condition is terminal—”
“I don’t believe that!” Diana yelled, and the doctor winced. Gabe flinched. The blood rushed in his ears. He needed to get out of this wretched place.
The doctor was still trying to calm his poor mother down, who was in tears now. “Please, I know this is very upsetting, but we are out of options—”
Unable to bear it any longer, Gabe pushed past them both and ran out of the doctor’s office. He did not stop until he was on the street, his heart pounding uncomfortably hard in his chest. As he gasped for breath, he tried to savour the feeling of adrenaline coursing through him. He pressed a hand to his chest. I’m still alive. For now.
Then the weight of the situation sank on him so heavily he found himself sitting on the ground, leaning against the wall, still fighting for breath. Gabe was going to die. He was going to die, and he was terrified.
He should have known this was coming. He should have prepared himself mentally, but that childish part of himself had dared to hope. And where had that got him? He was having a breakdown outside the doctor’s office after receiving news he should have expected ever since the problems started again.
Gabe had been doing so well. The last surgery had been a success, seemingly, until a week later, his symptoms worsened again. He still struggled to keep food down. He was losing weight rapidly. The pain returned and only seemed to be getting worse. Gabe chuckled bitterly to himself, wiping his wet cheeks with his sleeve. It was official, then. He would never be free of this godforsaken illness.
Diana appeared not long after he had run out. “There you are,” she gasped, her voice thick with tears, her eyes red. She knelt beside Gabe on the path, ignoring the looks from passersby, and scooped him up in her arms.
Gabe melted into her embrace. He was sobbing properly now. “I don’t want to die,” he whispered. He probably looked pathetic, a grown man sobbing in his mothers arms, but right now he felt like nothing more than a child. He wanted his mother. He was afraid. Death had always loomed in the background of his life, but now it was right at his doorstep, lifting a bony hand to knock. “I’m not ready.”
“Oh baby, I know,” Diana whispered into his hair, stroking it gently. “I’m sorry, I’m sure we’ll find a way. That doctor didn’t know what he was talking about.”
“He did, Mom,” Gabe sobbed, pushing himself to his feet. He hated how his mother’s hand automatically shot out to steady him as though he might fall. “Doctors don’t tell you shit like that unless they’re absolutely sure. I just…I need time to process. I’ll be fine.” I won’t, he thought, but he was becoming increasingly aware of the scene he was causing. Right now he needed Diana to calm down and drive him home. They had to break the news to his father and sister. Might as well get it over and done with.
***
There is no easy way to tell someone you are going to die. Unfortunately for Gabe, it had to be done. Still, seeing Natalie burst into tears and rush forward to hug him was one of the worst types of pain he had ever felt, and Gabe Goodman knew pain. “I’ll be alright, Nat,” he whispered, hugging her back fiercely. “Don’t cry.”
He tried to meet his father’s gaze. Dan had left the room. And somehow, that was even worse.
“Give him time, love,” Diana murmured. “He’ll come round.”
With the tragic news broken, Gabe realised with a sinking heart that there was only one person left to tell.
David picked up after three rings. “Hello?”
“Can we meet up? I have to tell you something.”
***
It was a beautiful day, which felt unfair. Spring had arrived, and the birds sang in the trees above them as Gabe and David strolled through the park, hand in hand. Flowers blossomed around them in every colour, so vibrant and full of life. It was painful, knowing this would be Gabe’s last spring.
“What did you want to talk about?” David asked, swinging their clasped hands. It had been a while since they had seen each other, David was home for the Easter holidays before he would return to Cambridge for his next semester. These were likely their last holidays together.
Gabe swallowed the lump rising in his throat. He had been avoiding this. “I…I’m not sure how to say this.”
David glanced at him, sensing his uncertainty. He looked like he wanted to say something, but patiently waited for Gabe to continue.
They had come to a stop on a bridge, overlooking the stream. The water trickled merrily along, and Gabe could not help but think about how that stream would always be there, and he would not. He gently let go of David’s hand and instead leaned his arms on the railing, exhaling. Gabe stared at the water, avoiding David’s gaze. “I think we should break up.” Tears pricked his eyes even as the words left him, and he blinked them away, still refusing to look at his boyfriend.
The only reaction he got was a small, incredulous laugh. “What?”
This time, Gabe turned to meet David’s eyes. He was fixing Gabe with that intense stare of his, but Gabe saw hurt in there, too. David was confused, and rightfully so. “I’m breaking up with you, David,” he said quietly, holding David’s gaze.
His eyebrows furrowed. “But…why?”
Gabe had to bite his lip to keep a sob from slipping out. This is for the best, he convinced himself. So why did it hurt so much? “I just don’t think it’s working out.”
“Is this about the drinking? Or the smoking? If it bothers you, I’ll stop, I don’t want to lose you—”
“It’s not that,” Gabe interrupted. “I…I lost feelings, David.”
David was silent. Gabe hated the way he was studying him, as though he could see right through him. Perhaps he could. “I don’t believe you.”
Gabe turned his attention back to the stream, watching the clear water pass over rocks and pebbles. He did not know how to respond to that.
“Gabe, look at me.” David tilted Gabe’s cheek towards him, and Gabe let him, feeling paralysed. “What’s the real reason?” He brushed away the traitorous tear sliding out the corner of Gabe’s eye. “Talk to me.”
“You don’t want to know,” Gabe replied, gently prising David’s hand from his face and sniffing. “Trust me, it’s better this way.”
“Oh, but I do, Gabe,” David replied, sharpness entering his tone. “I think I deserve to know.”
Gabe took in the nature around the stormcloud that was David Fry. The sun beat down on them both, and a bird flew into its nest in one of the trees. A breeze swept through, making the branches sway gently in the wind. It was funny, the things you noticed when you paid attention. Gabe kept his eyes fixed on the bird, wondering if it had any eggs in that nest. One life was ending, but so many new ones were only just beginning. “I’m dying,” he said eventually.
This time, David did not laugh. “What?”
“I found out yesterday. They’re talking about moving me to a hospice.”
“Gabe, what?” David grabbed his shoulders, forcing the other to look at him. “That’s why you’re breaking up with me?”
Gabe forced a resigned tone, as though he had already made peace with his decisions. “It will make things easier for both of us.” In truth, Gabe knew this would haunt him for the rest of his days. What was left of them.
“Are you crazy?” There was no more anger in David’s voice, only confusion and hurt. “I’m not leaving you. I won’t let you push me away. I don’t care if I sound selfish, you’re not getting rid of me.”
“But I don’t want you to get hurt, David—” Gabe protested.
“It’s going to hurt either way!” he snapped, and suddenly Gabe noticed the tears in his eyes. He was fighting to keep it together. Unlike Diana, David had not questioned the inevitability of Gabe’s death. Perhaps he too had known that what they had would not, could not last.
Gabe stared at him for a long moment, before finally falling into his boyfriend’s arms. David held him close, chest heaving, and placed a tender kiss to the top of Gabe’s head. David held him so tightly Gabe feared he would never let go, and he didn’t want him to. Relief washed over him as his own shoulders began to shake. It both hurt and comforted him to know that David would stay with him until the bitter end.
After what felt like hours but was perhaps only minutes, they broke apart. They must have looked quite the picture, with their swollen red eyes and tear-stained cheeks. David still clung on to Gabe’s fingertips, not wanting to lose their physical contact. People were more touchy with him, now, knowing he was slipping away. But with David, Gabe didn’t mind. He watched David swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “How long do you have?” he asked quietly.
Gabe took David’s hand in his, caressing the back of his hand with his thumb. “A few weeks.” His condition was declining too quickly, they had told him. “A few months, if I’m lucky.” What he was doing right now, standing here, talking to David, he may not be capable of next week. He did not like how this was all happening so fast.
David nodded, taking in this information, though Gabe could see it shocked him. “Then we’ll make it count,” he said after a moment. He squeezed Gabe’s hand. “Every last second.”
***
Ever since the news, an uncomfortable silence had fallen over the Goodman house. As though someone had thrown a blanket over them, muffling all sound. It was the calm before the storm, Gabe realised, the horrifying wait for the inevitable to happen. With every move, Gabe could feel his family's eyes on him, and he hated how much sadness he was causing simply by being present in the room.
Mealtimes were awkward, everyone grasping for things to say and avoiding the topic of death altogether. Gabe was grateful for that, in a way. At least they were trying.
One night, Natalie’s boyfriend Henry joined them for dinner, a small relief. He made conversation cheerfully, telling the occasional joke or funny story. “...and he offered me one of his pills, this guy, and I was like, are you kidding me? I’d rather die than do that inorganic shit—” Henry paused when Natalie choked on her water, slapping her on the back as she coughed. He had the decency to look embarrassed. “Poor choice of words, sorry,” he said, the words directed at Gabe. So he knew, then. Of course, Natalie had told him.
Gabe shook his head. People were walking on eggshells around him, and he was getting sick of it. “It’s fine,” he replied, going back to his food. Well, he was not so much eating it as pushing it around on his plate.
“Eat, love,” Diana said softly. “You need to keep your strength up.”
What’s the point? he wanted to scream. I won’t be able to keep it down, anyway. He pushed his plate away. “I’m not hungry.”
Gabe could feel them again, those horrible pitying eyes, and he felt as though he should at least try to eat so that they wouldn’t look so sad. But in truth, he was nauseous, and having an episode would only cause more worry.
“I’ll head upstairs. Get some rest. Keep my strength up,” he announced, walking out of that suffocating room as fast as his weak legs could carry him.
***
“I can’t bear it,” he said to David one day. They were sitting in Gabe’s room as they had done so many times before, David’s long arms wrapped around his frail frame. Gabe did not like how easy it was for him to do that now. He was getting thinner every day. Soon there would be none of him left.
“Bear what?” David asked softly, carding a hand through Gabe’s hair.
“Everyone is treating me like I’ll drop dead any second. I know I’m weak, but I’m still here. I still have some life left in me. Even you’ve been walking on eggshells around me.” Gabe sat up so he could meet David’s eyes. The other remained silent, watching him carefully as he always did. “I’m dying, David,” Gabe choked out, his voice breaking. “And I feel like I have to show everyone I’ve made peace with it, or I’ll just make things worse. But the truth is, I’m fucking terrified.”
A singular tear slipped down David’s cheek. He did not know what to say. How do you comfort someone who is dying? Nothing he could tell Gabe would change the fact that his days were numbered. No amount of hugs and kisses and cuddles would be enough, because they would never live to see each other grow old. No matter what they did, they could not make up for a lifetime in such a short time frame. Gabe would never move out of his parents’ home. He would never see David graduate Cambridge. They would never buy a house together, never start a family or adopt the dog David had always wanted. Gabe was dying, and a part of David would die with him.
David cupped Gabe’s cheeks, kissing away his tears. He tasted the salt on his tongue and pressed a kiss to his lips, pulling Gabe into his arms and holding him close, kissing the side of his head. He would miss those wonderful soft curls. “What you’re going through is fucking terrifying,” he said eventually, letting the other soak his chest with tears. “You’re allowed to be scared, Gabe. And fuck everyone else, you don’t have to keep up appearances for anyone’s comfort. Especially not mine.”
Gabe shuddered in his arms, his sobs muffled by David’s jacket. He was saying something, and it took David a moment to figure out what it was. “I don’t want to go,” he whimpered. “I don’t want to go.”
“I know,” he murmured, stroking Gabe’s hair, “I know. But you’re still here now, okay? Let’s focus on that. Breathe, Gabe.”
Gabe emerged from the comfort of David’s chest, taking deep gulping breaths. “Sorry,” he gasped out. There was no real weight to the words, they both knew he had nothing to apologise for.
David took Gabe’s hands in his, finding comfort in the warmth they still held. “How about this,” he said. “Let’s focus on the things you can control, yeah? Like, what are some things you want to do before…?” David trailed off, unable to speak the words out loud. Gabe could admit to his condition, but David saying the d-word would make it real. In a way, he was not only comforting Gabe, but himself, as well. He was not yet ready to face the dark figure looming at the doorstep. He would cross that bridge when they got to it.
Gabe gently extracted one of his hands from David’s grip and wiped his face with his sleeve, taking another shaky breath. “There’s so much I never got to do,” he replied with a sad smile, his eyes shining with fresh tears. “Study. Travel. Hell, even get a job. Earn money. Make a life for myself.” He swallowed, in thought. “I suppose I’d like to get drunk. Or high. Might as well, right?” Gabe laughed bitterly. “It’s not like my health can get much worse.”
David took him in then, properly. Beneath Gabe’s wet eyes were dark circles, his face was sallow and thin. He had clearly lost weight. He barely ate anymore, and when he did, he struggled to keep it down. He was suffering, and David wished with all his heart that he could take his suffering away. But he could not. He could only offer distraction and comfort and hold his hand when he slipped away. “We’ll go drinking,” he promised. “Have a proper night out, yeah? Sound good?”
Gabe nodded. “I’d like that.”
David threw an arm around his shoulders and pulled them down into the pillows, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars glued to Gabe’s ceiling. They were a faded green colour and did not actually glow anymore, which definitely felt like some kind of metaphor. I’ll write a poem about that, David thought, after. He fiddled with Gabe’s jacket sleeve, the jacket that had belonged to his mother that he was never seen without. “What now?” he asked quietly, breaking the silence. “Do you want to do something?”
Gabe considered this. “Kiss me.”
David obliged, leaning on his side and tilting Gabe’s chin to capture his lips in a soft kiss.
“Harder,” Gabe begged. “Please.”
David crushed his lips against Gabe’s, his hand moving to rest at his waist. He remained on his side, not wanting to crush Gabe under his weight, but as the kiss deepened Gabe placed a hand on his hip, tugging David in the direction he wanted him. David straddled him, though rather hesitantly at first, and leaned back down to kiss him, sighing softly as Gabe’s hands tangled in his hair. When Gabe’s hands slipped under his shirt and he realised where this was going, David whispered: “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Gabe breathed, staring at David with pleading eyes. “Yes, David, I’m sure. Just—please.”
So David kissed him again, his lips, his face, his neck. Collarbones, chest, stomach, thighs, every part of Gabe that he loved and would miss dearly. He stayed gentle, and when Gabe asked for more, he gave him more, until they were both breathing heavily and staring up at the faded green stars.
“Are you alright?” David asked softly.
Gabe was still trying to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling, rising and falling. “I’ll be fine,” he panted. “Just need a minute.”
David rolled over to lay his head on Gabe’s chest, listening to the pounding of his heart. After a while, the beating slowed, as did Gabe’s breathing, and when David looked up, he saw Gabe had fallen asleep. He pressed two fingers to Gabe’s neck, feeling for a pulse, then smiled softly and went to get a wet cloth. He cleaned him up gently, careful not to wake him, then reclaimed his place on the bed beside Gabe, nuzzling his head into the crook of his neck.
He could not sleep. For a while he just enjoyed the warmth, then jolted upwards with the sudden fear that Gabe had stopped breathing, though the steady rise and fall of his chest quickly calmed his nerves. David kept a hand on Gabe’s chest after that, comforted by the beating rhythm beneath his palm, and eventually drifted into unconsciousness.
***
David kept his promise to take Gabe out. Granted, he had asked him first if he felt up to it, and Gabe had only shrugged and said he would feel worse tomorrow anyway, so best to do it sooner rather than later.
Diana was understandably hesitant to let Gabe go out at night, but David had assured her that Gabe would sleep over with the Frys, they would call Diana if anything was wrong, etc. etc. Still, she had crushed Gabe in a tight hug before he left, her eyes glittering.
They made slow going down the street, David’s warm hand clasping Gabe’s cold one. “There’s a house party a few blocks down,” said David. “Or, if you prefer, we can go to the park and find a nice bench to sit on.” He lifted the cloth bag he was carrying. It kept making clink clink noises.
Gabe was silent for a moment. As they stepped under a streetlamp, the dull light illuminated his ashen face. He moved slowly, as though every step caused him pain. He looked exhausted, although he had claimed his spot in an armchair and practically slept all day, occasionally awaking to stare out the window mournfully. He was on so many painkillers, David worried that this was perhaps not such a good idea after all.
“We don’t have to do this, you know,” he added quickly. “We can just go back to mine and hang out there.”
Gabe shook his head. “No, I want to do this. I have to.” He winced as a jolt of pain shot through his abdomen, pausing to breathe through it. David put a hand on the small of his back, waiting. “I don’t think I can do a party,” Gabe admitted, his voice ragged. “But I need to be outside.”
“The park it is, then,” David agreed.
It was a cloudless night, the moon illuminating the sky in its full glory. A scattering of stars had appeared, and Gabe stared up at them from the park bench. They were so beautiful, and yet so out of reach.
He remembered stargazing with David a year ago, before his health had taken a turn for the worse. “They’re just big balls of gas floating around in space,” David had said, and Gabe had laughed. They had lain in the grass in silence for a while, and eventually, he had added: “It’s strange, thinking about it.”
“Hm?” Gabe had hummed, turning to face him, the grass tickling his cheek.
“Those gas giants, they’re so far away,” David had said. “Makes you realise how small and insignificant all this is.”
“Are you saying I’m insignificant?”
And then David had turned his head as well, their noses almost brushing. “Of course not. You’re more important to me than every star in the sky.”
Gabe had laughed at him. “Always the charmer,” he had replied, closing the gap between them. Even back then, they had had their worries and problems, but now those issues felt like how David had described himself: small and insignificant.
“You alright?” came a soft voice from beside him, and Gabe was torn out of his memories.
He had been having a lot of those lately. He supposed it was like your life flashing before your eyes when you died, but in a more slow and nostalgic way. He kept remembering things from his childhood he had forgotten, trips out with his family, hospital visits, getting to know David. It was as though, every time he let his brain shut off, it began to play a blooper reel of Gabe’s life.
“You’re shivering,” said David.
“I’m fine,” Gabe insisted, pulling his jacket closer around him. “The alcohol will warm me up.”
David studied his face for a long moment, but whatever he was searching for he did not find, and instead he pulled a bottle out of his bag.
The liquid burned in his throat as it went down, but Gabe found he did not care. He knew this would wreak havoc on his stomach, but his situation was already pretty bleak. He might as well drink his problems away, just for one night.
They took turns taking swigs from the bottle, and it was not long before a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through their limbs, making David a bit giggly and Gabe silent. The stars had multiplied now, though whether it was due to the time passing or just Gabe’s blurry vision he was not sure. Perhaps both. “They’re so beautiful,” he murmured.
“What was that?”
“The stars,” Gabe whispered. “I’ll be up there with them soon.”
David did not respond, only rested his head on Gabe’s shoulder. The cool evening air was comforting on their hot skin. They remained there in comfortable silence for a while until Gabe suddenly jerked forward, vomiting on the ground.
David started upwards, rubbing his back as he often did when Gabe had an episode. “How much did you drink?” he asked, but Gabe shook his head, too nauseous to respond.
He threw up again. David offered him water, but he shook his head again with a groan. “It’ll only come back up again,” he whimpered, clutching his stomach.
David stood up, reeling with the wave of dizziness that hit him, and pulled Gabe to his feet. “Come on, let’s get you home,” he said gently, pulling Gabe’s arm around his shoulders as Gabe had done for him many times before.
“Not my house,” Gabe gasped out, almost doubled over in pain. “Don’t want…my mom…to know.”
If getting to the park had been slow going, the trip to David’s house was agonising. David struggled to support Gabe, they were both swaying, but Gabe was practically curled in on himself. When they had to pause for Gabe to vomit in a bush for the fifth time, he began to worry.
“Should I call your parents?” he suggested. “Do you need your meds?”
“I’m fine,” Gabe slurred, spitting into the leaves. “I have them with me.”
Finally, they made it to David’s front door, and he let go of Gabe to dig out his keys. The door clicked open in the same moment Gabe collapsed, slumping to the ground.
“Gabe!” David was on his knees in an instant, shaking him awake. Had Gabe pushed himself too far? He was pale as a ghost in the light from the porch, and eerily still until David shook him.
His eyebrows furrowed, he groaned, and David exhaled a small sigh of relief. “Am I dead?”
David helped him sit up, gripping his shoulders. “No, you’re just really drunk. Can you stand?” Gabe shook his head, so David offered a piggy-back ride into the silent house. He did not like how easy it was to carry Gabe, he was light as a feather. He had lost so much weight David worried he would waste away before the illness caught up to him.
As he trudged down the hall with Gabe slumped on his back, David could hear his mother pottering about in the kitchen, the smell of dinner from earlier (Maureen’s home-made lasagna) still hanging in the air. It made his stomach turn. David wished he could pop a pill, but Gabe groaned on his shoulder and he began his slow ascent up the stairs, gripping onto the handrail for dear life. “Don’t you dare throw up on me,” he warned.
“Won’t,” Gabe mumbled, but it was a near thing. He began to gag when they reached the top of the stairs, and David had to haul him to the bathroom where he emptied his stomach once more.
This time a sob escaped him. “It hurts,” Gabe whimpered, “David, it hurts so bad.”
“I know, love, I know,” David replied, rubbing his back. “You said you have your meds, remember?”
“Yeah, in—” Gabe cut himself off with a heave, resting his cheek on the cool toilet seat in defeat. “In my pocket.”
David fished them out, fetching a glass of water and pressing it into his shaking hands. Gabe seemed to be struggling with the pills, so he helped him with that, too, placing the dose into his open palm.
Gabe knocked it back with ease, though his hands shook so terribly as he drank that he nearly spilled the water all over himself. David took it from him gently, placing it to the side, and Gabe closed his eyes, his face contorted with pain. “I’m so tired,” he whispered. “Sometimes I wish it could just be over already.”
“Don’t say that.” This was a bad idea, David thought guiltily. I shouldn’t have let him do this to himself. Still, what’s done is done.
When Gabe was sure the alcohol was out of his system, he let David take him to bed. David placed a bucket at the ready and crawled in beside his boyfriend, holding on to his shivering frame. Gabe dropped off almost immediately. He never used to do that.
The meds must have worked, at least, because it used to be the pain that kept him awake. But now, looking at Gabe's pale face and sweaty forehead, David thought he would gladly go back to those days.
The next morning, Gabe slept late. Another thing he never used to do. David knew he had been sleeping a lot lately, but he hadn't realised the extent of it. Gabe only woke up around lunch time, groaning and clutching his head. David was just relieved he woke up at all.