fic: Be strong for us, darling
Title: Be strong for us, darling
Author: ohmydarlingdear
Team: ANGST!
Prompt: ring
Word count: approx. 600
Rating: PG
Warnings: major character death
Summary: Eames is diagnosed with acute leukemia. The odds don't look very good.
There are a number of creative ways Eames could have gone, especially in their line of work, especially considering the number of people Eames has upset in the past. Eames could have been kidnapped and tortured to death. He could have been shot point-blank. He could have died in some sort of fiery explosion. He could have been poisoned. He could even have overdosed on Somnacin. But of course, because this is Arthur’s life and he’s never been particularly lucky, Eames has to go this way: utterly, absolutely normally. And slowly. Painfully.
Arthur sometimes thinks it would be easier if Eames had just been shot. It would have been less agonizing for Eames, and maybe Arthur would have been able to take it better. He doesn’t know. He feels bad for thinking it.
---
Eames is diagnosed with acute leukemia on September eighth. The doctors say that there is a chance he’ll make it, but they don’t sound too hopeful. After his first round of chemotherapy, testing is done to see if he’s gone into remission, because if so, then they can proceed with the bone marrow transplant, Eames’ best shot at beating cancer.
The tests come back negative.
Eames smiles and puts on a brave face, patting Arthur’s arm and telling him that it’s going to be fine. He’ll just go through another round of chemo and they’ll just have to hope for the best. Arthur feels a little like crying. He’s never felt this helpless in his life.
The second round of chemo takes a huge toll on Eames. Arthur tries to visit him as much as he can. Sometimes he’s not allowed because chemotherapy makes the body extremely susceptible to disease. Sometimes he is allowed but Eames has been sedated because otherwise he’d be in too much pain. And somehow, somehow Eames manages to smile through it all, ever the optimist. Arthur wishes he could be half as positive as Eames, but it’s a hard task when Eames looks so frail and thin, so exhausted all the time.
“Relax, love,” Eames says, squeezing Arthur’s hand. “I’ll be fine; you’ll see. We’ll make it through this. We always do.”
And it takes everything Arthur has not to break down right then and there.
The second round of chemotherapy is successful. Arthur clings to the small shred of hope he has left as Eames proceeds with the bone marrow transplant.
It doesn’t take.
---
Eames dies on December twenty-ninth, just more than one year after his diagnosis. Arthur doesn’t remember much about the weeks following Eames’ death. He’s numb to think, and he’s too depressed to do much else than mourn. When he finally works up the courage to pack away some of Eames’ things for storage, it’s already been more than a month.
Arthur fights the urge to cry as he folds up some of Eames shirts. He blinks very rapidly to keep the tears at bay but his cheeks are damp anyways. Arthur wipes at his eyes and stands to yank one of Eames’ precious tweed jackets off its hanger. Something falls out of the pocket and lands on the ground by Arthur’s feet. It’s a little red box. He’s never seen it before.
Curious, Arthur bends to pick it up. He stares at it for a long moment in his hand before taking a deep breath and opening it. Arthur lets out a slow, shuddering breath. He closes his hand tightly over the little box and squeezes his eyes shut, tears falling freely now.
Inside the box is a thin, silver ring, and they never even got a chance.
Author: ohmydarlingdear
Team: ANGST!
Prompt: ring
Word count: approx. 600
Rating: PG
Warnings: major character death
Summary: Eames is diagnosed with acute leukemia. The odds don't look very good.
There are a number of creative ways Eames could have gone, especially in their line of work, especially considering the number of people Eames has upset in the past. Eames could have been kidnapped and tortured to death. He could have been shot point-blank. He could have died in some sort of fiery explosion. He could have been poisoned. He could even have overdosed on Somnacin. But of course, because this is Arthur’s life and he’s never been particularly lucky, Eames has to go this way: utterly, absolutely normally. And slowly. Painfully.
Arthur sometimes thinks it would be easier if Eames had just been shot. It would have been less agonizing for Eames, and maybe Arthur would have been able to take it better. He doesn’t know. He feels bad for thinking it.
---
Eames is diagnosed with acute leukemia on September eighth. The doctors say that there is a chance he’ll make it, but they don’t sound too hopeful. After his first round of chemotherapy, testing is done to see if he’s gone into remission, because if so, then they can proceed with the bone marrow transplant, Eames’ best shot at beating cancer.
The tests come back negative.
Eames smiles and puts on a brave face, patting Arthur’s arm and telling him that it’s going to be fine. He’ll just go through another round of chemo and they’ll just have to hope for the best. Arthur feels a little like crying. He’s never felt this helpless in his life.
The second round of chemo takes a huge toll on Eames. Arthur tries to visit him as much as he can. Sometimes he’s not allowed because chemotherapy makes the body extremely susceptible to disease. Sometimes he is allowed but Eames has been sedated because otherwise he’d be in too much pain. And somehow, somehow Eames manages to smile through it all, ever the optimist. Arthur wishes he could be half as positive as Eames, but it’s a hard task when Eames looks so frail and thin, so exhausted all the time.
“Relax, love,” Eames says, squeezing Arthur’s hand. “I’ll be fine; you’ll see. We’ll make it through this. We always do.”
And it takes everything Arthur has not to break down right then and there.
The second round of chemotherapy is successful. Arthur clings to the small shred of hope he has left as Eames proceeds with the bone marrow transplant.
It doesn’t take.
---
Eames dies on December twenty-ninth, just more than one year after his diagnosis. Arthur doesn’t remember much about the weeks following Eames’ death. He’s numb to think, and he’s too depressed to do much else than mourn. When he finally works up the courage to pack away some of Eames’ things for storage, it’s already been more than a month.
Arthur fights the urge to cry as he folds up some of Eames shirts. He blinks very rapidly to keep the tears at bay but his cheeks are damp anyways. Arthur wipes at his eyes and stands to yank one of Eames’ precious tweed jackets off its hanger. Something falls out of the pocket and lands on the ground by Arthur’s feet. It’s a little red box. He’s never seen it before.
Curious, Arthur bends to pick it up. He stares at it for a long moment in his hand before taking a deep breath and opening it. Arthur lets out a slow, shuddering breath. He closes his hand tightly over the little box and squeezes his eyes shut, tears falling freely now.
Inside the box is a thin, silver ring, and they never even got a chance.