Ordinary, chapter 5
summary: Ian is diagnosed with cancer.
warnings: sad, with mild language. Also, it was recently revealed that Lunchtime with Smosh is filmed on random days, not every Thursday, but in this fic, it will be an every-Thursday occurrence. And a new character will be introduced here that you won't see for quite a few chapters, so don't be worried when he seems to disappear.
rating: pg-13
disclaimer: I don't own Smosh.
Ordinary, chapter five
The week passed just as the weekend had. When everyone was filming, Ian was a normal guy, hiding his nausea, hiding his pain. When he and Anthony were editing, he acted bored, and hid his cramps. When he texted Mel, he acted like everything was fine, hiding his tears, hiding his knowledge that he would be dead before August. Hell, having Anthony around even made him feel better. For a few minutes, Ian could actually forget the pain.
But when he was alone, Ian was changed. He bought some yoga DVD's, cleaned his room persistently, and spent time in between crying, sleeping, or being ill in the bathroom. Having a stomach disease messed with his whole body, and he could easily feel the effects. On Wednesday, he went to the supermarket and bought fruits and vegetables, low fat milk, and oatmeal, instead of soda or burgers. He put his health food in the back of the fridge, and hoped Anthony wouldn't notice when he came over for Lunchtime with Smosh the next day.
"Hey everyone! Welcome to another episode of Lunchtime with Smosh!"
"Doodoodoodolittydooo!" Anthony sang the theme song behind him. Ian smiled, turning the camera towards him.
"So todaaaaay," Anthony drew out the word, "We're gonna get some Thai food!" Oh God, Ian thought, my stomach. He would never handle that. The last thing he wanted was to be sick in front of Anthony, especially when getting sick lately was always painful, messy, and just embarrassing.
"Dude, you want something else? Not really in the mood for burning my mouth off." Ian said, distracted, attempting to get him to choose something else. Any fast food would do damage, but he thought maybe some vegetable Low Mien would be okay. Anything over Thai food.
"No, man, I think we should get some Thai food. Let's be fearless motherfuckers." Anthony went to the kitchen to get the menu from the napkin drawer. Behind him, Ian hid how panicked he was. It had only been a week since he found out, could he really already be blowing it?
"Hey, yeah, I'd like to place an order." Ian came out of his stupor and rushed to pick something out. He quickly chose something with vegetables, requesting it not too spicy, and they were in Ian's car about five minutes later.
"Oh, man, nice- oh that's a guy." Ian said, joking about a guy walking on the sidewalk. He was wearing shorts, despite the chill, and had the hairiest legs they'd ever seen. Anthony laughed and wolf whistled. Ian tried to copy him, but did poorly, and yelled "FAIL!" instead.
"Waitin' for our food, waitin' for our food..." Anthony was singing a short time later in the restaurant.
"I'll try not to repeat our first Thai food adventure." Ian joked. He knew later they would throw in a clip of Ian dropping the food, and then the two of them crying from how spicy their food was.
"Oh, man, that was literally the worst day of my life." Anthony shook his head seriously.
"Mine too. I'm pretty sure my tongue was numb for a week." Ian recalled with a laugh as he walked to the counter to take the food. In truth, the worst day of his life had been exactly eight days ago.
"Don't drop it, bro." Anthony called out to him as they walked to the car. Ian faked dropping the bag of Thai food, and Anthony jumped about a mile into the air. "Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me!" Ian laughed.
"Sorry." He said cheerfully, not sorry at all.
"You are not, not at all! You bastard!" Anthony started to fake cry. Ian went to pat his head, and Anthony swatted him playfully away.
Ian knew that, if he could feel after death, if he could see what was happening in their lives, this would be what he would miss the most. Just joking with him, driving with him, filming things like this. Ian is Bored and Lunchtime with Smosh were even greater to him than the skits they did every week, because he spent his time with Anthony, and time was so precious now. He had so little left. Again, Ian wished he valued his life more. It would be a guilt that tortured him until the day he died.
Back home, the pair opened up and examined the boxes of Thai food.
"Dude, that has to be yours, it smells so spicy, my eyes are watering." Ian pointed to Anthony's box. Anthony took it and sat in his usual place. Ian smiled as he went to the refrigerator.
"What do you want, diet coke?" He called over, opening the door.
"Yeah." Anthony took out his plastic fork as Ian walked back with a can of diet coke and a bottle of water. Anthony raised his eyebrow and Ian quickly stated
"Just preparing myself for the inevitable spiciness."
"Dude, you didn't even get spicy." Anthony was piling rice onto his fork.
"I didn't get spicy last time, and it was still a nightmare. These menus lie, Anthony." He faked a serious look, turning to the menu lying on the table and scowling. Anthony laughed as Ian tried to act like having spicy wasn't as big of a deal as it was. His stomach would go out of control if he ate like that, and if he got sick he could either make an excuse and be taunted the rest of his short life, or tell Anthony the truth, and ruin everything.
They ate and laughed like things were normal, but Ian was having a silent panic attack. At last, the meal came to an end, and Ian had to rate it.
"I would give this spicy flaming hell..." Ian began.
"Pussy." Anthony laughed behind the camera. Ian stuck out his tongue and continued.
"Five out of fifteen...pies. See you next Thursday."
"Bye."
"...bitch." He switched off the camera. So far, his stomach felt fine, but he couldn't trust himself. He was nervous during the entire first hour of editing, sitting in near silence. Finally, Kalel called Anthony, and Ian sat, praying for a miracle.
"Hello? Yeah. No, on the left...are you sure?....okay, but...yeah, of course, I'll be over as soon as I can." Anthony turned to Ian, looking guilty, and Ian feigned mild concern.
"What's up?" Anthony sighed with annoyance.
"A pipe broke back home. Sorry, Ian, I have to go fix it. Are you gonna be okay with all this?" He motioned towards the editing. Ian nodded.
"Yeah, it's fine, go home before your house floods or something."
"Ha," Anthony laughed as he stood up. "I'll go home, there's a waterfall out the door..." Ian grabbed his jacket and walked him to the door.
"Kalel's in a boat..." Anthony gave a hard laugh.
"Yeah," he said, opening the door. "She made an oar out of a table leg-"
"She's attempting to save her makeup!" Ian called out to Anthony as he walked away. Anthony howled with laughter. "Hurry, dude, don't let the eye shadow drown!" Ian yelled his last joke before turning around and going inside.
The smile faded from his face as he sat down in front of the computer. Kalel was a nice girl, and Anthony loved her, so he didn't have a problem with her. Ian settled further into his seat, the old chair groaning in protest. He was grateful, in the end, that he didn't get sick in front of Anthony. Maybe he was getting better. Maybe the end won't be so bad.
He threw up five minutes later.
***
Sunday came after a fairly normal two days (normal for Ian now that he was sick, anyway), and Ian went where he hadn't gone in years. As he pulled up, tons of cars were leaving, filled with women in pastel clothing and big hats. He smirked a bit before pulling out a bag of clothes from his back seat. He was donating them to the church, not because he was religious, but because this was the only place he knew that would accept his junk. He realized on Saturday that he had a lot to give away, and he didn't want to leave behind too much stuff to sort out.
Stepping through giant wood doors, he gazed at the tall ceiling and stained glass windows. The place was empty, save for some old women helping a deacon clean up. Ian approached with caution. "Father..." he trailed off, hoping this was the one you called father. He didn't know much about that sort of thing.
A kind black man in his late thirties turned and gave him a small smile. "Deacon." he corrected politely.
"Sorry. I'd like to donate some clothes to the church." Ian said quickly, offering up his bag of clothing. The deacon seemed delighted.
"Thank you, so much." He said, smiling and taking the bag. "May God bless you."
Ian nodded uncomfortably. "What other things does the church accept?"
"The church accepts anything you should like to donate, from clothes to furniture to jewelry." He said calmly, with an even tone. Ian, being an actor, noticed he was an excellent speaker.
"Okay. I might donate more, later. Thanks. Have a good day." Ian turned to leave, smiling politely at the old women who started to gather around his old clothes.
"May God bless you with a long and joyous life!" The deacon called to him as he walked away. Ian held back a dark laugh, and walked quickly away to his car as it turned to tears instead.
warnings: sad, with mild language. Also, it was recently revealed that Lunchtime with Smosh is filmed on random days, not every Thursday, but in this fic, it will be an every-Thursday occurrence. And a new character will be introduced here that you won't see for quite a few chapters, so don't be worried when he seems to disappear.
rating: pg-13
disclaimer: I don't own Smosh.
Ordinary, chapter five
The week passed just as the weekend had. When everyone was filming, Ian was a normal guy, hiding his nausea, hiding his pain. When he and Anthony were editing, he acted bored, and hid his cramps. When he texted Mel, he acted like everything was fine, hiding his tears, hiding his knowledge that he would be dead before August. Hell, having Anthony around even made him feel better. For a few minutes, Ian could actually forget the pain.
But when he was alone, Ian was changed. He bought some yoga DVD's, cleaned his room persistently, and spent time in between crying, sleeping, or being ill in the bathroom. Having a stomach disease messed with his whole body, and he could easily feel the effects. On Wednesday, he went to the supermarket and bought fruits and vegetables, low fat milk, and oatmeal, instead of soda or burgers. He put his health food in the back of the fridge, and hoped Anthony wouldn't notice when he came over for Lunchtime with Smosh the next day.
"Hey everyone! Welcome to another episode of Lunchtime with Smosh!"
"Doodoodoodolittydooo!" Anthony sang the theme song behind him. Ian smiled, turning the camera towards him.
"So todaaaaay," Anthony drew out the word, "We're gonna get some Thai food!" Oh God, Ian thought, my stomach. He would never handle that. The last thing he wanted was to be sick in front of Anthony, especially when getting sick lately was always painful, messy, and just embarrassing.
"Dude, you want something else? Not really in the mood for burning my mouth off." Ian said, distracted, attempting to get him to choose something else. Any fast food would do damage, but he thought maybe some vegetable Low Mien would be okay. Anything over Thai food.
"No, man, I think we should get some Thai food. Let's be fearless motherfuckers." Anthony went to the kitchen to get the menu from the napkin drawer. Behind him, Ian hid how panicked he was. It had only been a week since he found out, could he really already be blowing it?
"Hey, yeah, I'd like to place an order." Ian came out of his stupor and rushed to pick something out. He quickly chose something with vegetables, requesting it not too spicy, and they were in Ian's car about five minutes later.
"Oh, man, nice- oh that's a guy." Ian said, joking about a guy walking on the sidewalk. He was wearing shorts, despite the chill, and had the hairiest legs they'd ever seen. Anthony laughed and wolf whistled. Ian tried to copy him, but did poorly, and yelled "FAIL!" instead.
"Waitin' for our food, waitin' for our food..." Anthony was singing a short time later in the restaurant.
"I'll try not to repeat our first Thai food adventure." Ian joked. He knew later they would throw in a clip of Ian dropping the food, and then the two of them crying from how spicy their food was.
"Oh, man, that was literally the worst day of my life." Anthony shook his head seriously.
"Mine too. I'm pretty sure my tongue was numb for a week." Ian recalled with a laugh as he walked to the counter to take the food. In truth, the worst day of his life had been exactly eight days ago.
"Don't drop it, bro." Anthony called out to him as they walked to the car. Ian faked dropping the bag of Thai food, and Anthony jumped about a mile into the air. "Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me!" Ian laughed.
"Sorry." He said cheerfully, not sorry at all.
"You are not, not at all! You bastard!" Anthony started to fake cry. Ian went to pat his head, and Anthony swatted him playfully away.
Ian knew that, if he could feel after death, if he could see what was happening in their lives, this would be what he would miss the most. Just joking with him, driving with him, filming things like this. Ian is Bored and Lunchtime with Smosh were even greater to him than the skits they did every week, because he spent his time with Anthony, and time was so precious now. He had so little left. Again, Ian wished he valued his life more. It would be a guilt that tortured him until the day he died.
Back home, the pair opened up and examined the boxes of Thai food.
"Dude, that has to be yours, it smells so spicy, my eyes are watering." Ian pointed to Anthony's box. Anthony took it and sat in his usual place. Ian smiled as he went to the refrigerator.
"What do you want, diet coke?" He called over, opening the door.
"Yeah." Anthony took out his plastic fork as Ian walked back with a can of diet coke and a bottle of water. Anthony raised his eyebrow and Ian quickly stated
"Just preparing myself for the inevitable spiciness."
"Dude, you didn't even get spicy." Anthony was piling rice onto his fork.
"I didn't get spicy last time, and it was still a nightmare. These menus lie, Anthony." He faked a serious look, turning to the menu lying on the table and scowling. Anthony laughed as Ian tried to act like having spicy wasn't as big of a deal as it was. His stomach would go out of control if he ate like that, and if he got sick he could either make an excuse and be taunted the rest of his short life, or tell Anthony the truth, and ruin everything.
They ate and laughed like things were normal, but Ian was having a silent panic attack. At last, the meal came to an end, and Ian had to rate it.
"I would give this spicy flaming hell..." Ian began.
"Pussy." Anthony laughed behind the camera. Ian stuck out his tongue and continued.
"Five out of fifteen...pies. See you next Thursday."
"Bye."
"...bitch." He switched off the camera. So far, his stomach felt fine, but he couldn't trust himself. He was nervous during the entire first hour of editing, sitting in near silence. Finally, Kalel called Anthony, and Ian sat, praying for a miracle.
"Hello? Yeah. No, on the left...are you sure?....okay, but...yeah, of course, I'll be over as soon as I can." Anthony turned to Ian, looking guilty, and Ian feigned mild concern.
"What's up?" Anthony sighed with annoyance.
"A pipe broke back home. Sorry, Ian, I have to go fix it. Are you gonna be okay with all this?" He motioned towards the editing. Ian nodded.
"Yeah, it's fine, go home before your house floods or something."
"Ha," Anthony laughed as he stood up. "I'll go home, there's a waterfall out the door..." Ian grabbed his jacket and walked him to the door.
"Kalel's in a boat..." Anthony gave a hard laugh.
"Yeah," he said, opening the door. "She made an oar out of a table leg-"
"She's attempting to save her makeup!" Ian called out to Anthony as he walked away. Anthony howled with laughter. "Hurry, dude, don't let the eye shadow drown!" Ian yelled his last joke before turning around and going inside.
The smile faded from his face as he sat down in front of the computer. Kalel was a nice girl, and Anthony loved her, so he didn't have a problem with her. Ian settled further into his seat, the old chair groaning in protest. He was grateful, in the end, that he didn't get sick in front of Anthony. Maybe he was getting better. Maybe the end won't be so bad.
He threw up five minutes later.
***
Sunday came after a fairly normal two days (normal for Ian now that he was sick, anyway), and Ian went where he hadn't gone in years. As he pulled up, tons of cars were leaving, filled with women in pastel clothing and big hats. He smirked a bit before pulling out a bag of clothes from his back seat. He was donating them to the church, not because he was religious, but because this was the only place he knew that would accept his junk. He realized on Saturday that he had a lot to give away, and he didn't want to leave behind too much stuff to sort out.
Stepping through giant wood doors, he gazed at the tall ceiling and stained glass windows. The place was empty, save for some old women helping a deacon clean up. Ian approached with caution. "Father..." he trailed off, hoping this was the one you called father. He didn't know much about that sort of thing.
A kind black man in his late thirties turned and gave him a small smile. "Deacon." he corrected politely.
"Sorry. I'd like to donate some clothes to the church." Ian said quickly, offering up his bag of clothing. The deacon seemed delighted.
"Thank you, so much." He said, smiling and taking the bag. "May God bless you."
Ian nodded uncomfortably. "What other things does the church accept?"
"The church accepts anything you should like to donate, from clothes to furniture to jewelry." He said calmly, with an even tone. Ian, being an actor, noticed he was an excellent speaker.
"Okay. I might donate more, later. Thanks. Have a good day." Ian turned to leave, smiling politely at the old women who started to gather around his old clothes.
"May God bless you with a long and joyous life!" The deacon called to him as he walked away. Ian held back a dark laugh, and walked quickly away to his car as it turned to tears instead.