Ordinary, chapter 2
rated: pg-13
warning: sad.
disclaimer: I don't own Smosh, this is just a fanfiction from which I make no profit.
summary: Ian is diagnosed with cancer.
Ian had cried for what felt like hours, until the pain of it became unbearable. He was now lying on his side in his bed, back against the sun setting in his window. He no longer cried, and was now shaking, the room silent save Charlie's rustling. Ian knew he needed to figure out what to do.
He took his phone from his pocket. Who should he call first, the doctor, or Anthony? Oh God, how could he tell Anthony? He knew his friend wouldn't take it well. And what about Mel? He shook his head and sat up, clutching his jacket with pale knuckles. He couldn't deal with his thoughts, but he wasn't sure if he could say anything to anyone. He looked over at his guinea pig, sitting in his cage.
"Hey Charlie." His voice was scratchy from the crying. "I...I have-"
He couldn't even tell him. Tears rose to his eyes once again, and he clamped them shut. He didn't want to cry again, not just yet. In fact, he would be pretty happy if he could never cry again. Like running out of tears, or something. He shook his head and continued.
"But Charlie, I can't do anything about it. Six months, that's-" tears threatened him again, and he swallowed thickly. "that's all I have. Jesus, when do I tell Ant? He would be destroyed. You know him, you know how we are. I can't just tell him I'm leaving him like that. And Mel..." he trailed off, thinking of his New Jersey sweetheart. How could he possibly tell them. And his mom, oh God, he would have to tell his mom. Tears again fell down his face, quickly rolling down, dripping off his chin and darkening his jeans.
"I'm not brave enough, Charlie, I'm not strong enough. I, I can't just tell them I'm-I'm dying. And you didn't see, you didn't see that guilty look on that southern girl-" he stood up, pacing around the room, beginning to get a cold sweat. The reality of it was so raw and painful, and it made his heart ache and body shake. He soon became aware of what he needed to do.
"I can't tell them. Not yet, Charlie, I can't. I'd get pitied, I'd get funny looks, my family would be destroyed, and Ant and Mel- I can't even think about it." Ian, still shaking, clenched his phone in his hand, stumbled over to his bed, and picked up the doctor's card. Taking a deep breath, he dialed.
"Doctor Marrow, how may I help you?"
"Doctor, I'd-I'd like to be comfortable. I, I need to be." Ian was still shaking, no longer crying, but his whole body was electrified from his terrified nerves. He felt more awake and aware of his life than he'd felt in a long time.
He had always been content. Hard-working. He'd be with his best friend everyday, through thick and thin, and he never needed to worry. He never thought something like this would happen.
"Yes, of course. Come in tomorrow, for some information and prescriptions. Can you be in at noon?" He could hear the frown in his doctor's voice. The man was clearly still upset over this stranger's dying. Ian shook his head, then recalled he was on the phone.
"No, doc, I, uh, I have to film Lunchtime with Smosh at noon. Maybe around four?" He could feel apprehension at the other end of the line.
"Don't you think, Mr. Hecox, that due to the circumstances..."
"No, sir." Ian answered firmly after it was clear that the good doctor could not finish his sentence. "I'd like to have some time being ordinary, before I become- before I become that guy with cancer." he heard the doctor sigh, and thought that perhaps he was angry and would hang up, refusing to give him meds, refusing to help. But after a moment, he answered.
"I understand, Mr. Hecox. See you at four, then." he hung up. Ian, shaking less, sat at the edge of his bed, and looked up at Charlie's cage, deep in thought. He thought about everything he'd never see, everything he'd never do. He would never go to England. He would never see that roller coaster down the road finished. He would never be an old man with Anthony. For a moment, he wished he did more. He wished he made his mom proud. He wished he asked Anthony out in high school. He wished he looked for his dad.
No, he thought, no, I've done great. I've had a great life, better than a lot of other people. And now I'm at the end. This isn't The Bucket List, this isn't a soap opera, this is just an ending.
He just wished he realized how great his life was before then.
"No grand adventure, Charlie." he said to his guinea pig. "No big 'oh, yeah, let's go to France, let's eat and be happy and live it up in the end.' No, I'm going to live it out as usual, keep everything ordinary, for my sake, for everyone else's sake. I've-I've had a good life. Time to finish it."
For a minute, the room was quiet as Charlie stared at him. Ian, dissatisfied, answered himself in Charlie's voice.
"Stop being so dramatic, you bloody poof." Ian smiled and chuckled. Just because this was the end, it didn't mean he had to go out miserable. He could, for awhile longer, laugh, and be with his friends, and be himself. Death didn't have to be heartbreak. Not yet.
warning: sad.
disclaimer: I don't own Smosh, this is just a fanfiction from which I make no profit.
summary: Ian is diagnosed with cancer.
Ian had cried for what felt like hours, until the pain of it became unbearable. He was now lying on his side in his bed, back against the sun setting in his window. He no longer cried, and was now shaking, the room silent save Charlie's rustling. Ian knew he needed to figure out what to do.
He took his phone from his pocket. Who should he call first, the doctor, or Anthony? Oh God, how could he tell Anthony? He knew his friend wouldn't take it well. And what about Mel? He shook his head and sat up, clutching his jacket with pale knuckles. He couldn't deal with his thoughts, but he wasn't sure if he could say anything to anyone. He looked over at his guinea pig, sitting in his cage.
"Hey Charlie." His voice was scratchy from the crying. "I...I have-"
He couldn't even tell him. Tears rose to his eyes once again, and he clamped them shut. He didn't want to cry again, not just yet. In fact, he would be pretty happy if he could never cry again. Like running out of tears, or something. He shook his head and continued.
"But Charlie, I can't do anything about it. Six months, that's-" tears threatened him again, and he swallowed thickly. "that's all I have. Jesus, when do I tell Ant? He would be destroyed. You know him, you know how we are. I can't just tell him I'm leaving him like that. And Mel..." he trailed off, thinking of his New Jersey sweetheart. How could he possibly tell them. And his mom, oh God, he would have to tell his mom. Tears again fell down his face, quickly rolling down, dripping off his chin and darkening his jeans.
"I'm not brave enough, Charlie, I'm not strong enough. I, I can't just tell them I'm-I'm dying. And you didn't see, you didn't see that guilty look on that southern girl-" he stood up, pacing around the room, beginning to get a cold sweat. The reality of it was so raw and painful, and it made his heart ache and body shake. He soon became aware of what he needed to do.
"I can't tell them. Not yet, Charlie, I can't. I'd get pitied, I'd get funny looks, my family would be destroyed, and Ant and Mel- I can't even think about it." Ian, still shaking, clenched his phone in his hand, stumbled over to his bed, and picked up the doctor's card. Taking a deep breath, he dialed.
"Doctor Marrow, how may I help you?"
"Doctor, I'd-I'd like to be comfortable. I, I need to be." Ian was still shaking, no longer crying, but his whole body was electrified from his terrified nerves. He felt more awake and aware of his life than he'd felt in a long time.
He had always been content. Hard-working. He'd be with his best friend everyday, through thick and thin, and he never needed to worry. He never thought something like this would happen.
"Yes, of course. Come in tomorrow, for some information and prescriptions. Can you be in at noon?" He could hear the frown in his doctor's voice. The man was clearly still upset over this stranger's dying. Ian shook his head, then recalled he was on the phone.
"No, doc, I, uh, I have to film Lunchtime with Smosh at noon. Maybe around four?" He could feel apprehension at the other end of the line.
"Don't you think, Mr. Hecox, that due to the circumstances..."
"No, sir." Ian answered firmly after it was clear that the good doctor could not finish his sentence. "I'd like to have some time being ordinary, before I become- before I become that guy with cancer." he heard the doctor sigh, and thought that perhaps he was angry and would hang up, refusing to give him meds, refusing to help. But after a moment, he answered.
"I understand, Mr. Hecox. See you at four, then." he hung up. Ian, shaking less, sat at the edge of his bed, and looked up at Charlie's cage, deep in thought. He thought about everything he'd never see, everything he'd never do. He would never go to England. He would never see that roller coaster down the road finished. He would never be an old man with Anthony. For a moment, he wished he did more. He wished he made his mom proud. He wished he asked Anthony out in high school. He wished he looked for his dad.
No, he thought, no, I've done great. I've had a great life, better than a lot of other people. And now I'm at the end. This isn't The Bucket List, this isn't a soap opera, this is just an ending.
He just wished he realized how great his life was before then.
"No grand adventure, Charlie." he said to his guinea pig. "No big 'oh, yeah, let's go to France, let's eat and be happy and live it up in the end.' No, I'm going to live it out as usual, keep everything ordinary, for my sake, for everyone else's sake. I've-I've had a good life. Time to finish it."
For a minute, the room was quiet as Charlie stared at him. Ian, dissatisfied, answered himself in Charlie's voice.
"Stop being so dramatic, you bloody poof." Ian smiled and chuckled. Just because this was the end, it didn't mean he had to go out miserable. He could, for awhile longer, laugh, and be with his friends, and be himself. Death didn't have to be heartbreak. Not yet.