A/n: I changed it up a lot but I promise it'll end differently than the last one. And I might make this a mini series
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Having leukemia wasn't just something that had happened to you. It was a part of you–forever. There was always going to be that chance of it coming back, no matter what. But, the part that is forever stuck with you, is the strength and bravery you have gained from it.
Just after you turned five years old, you were told you had gone into remission. It was the best news you and Natasha had had since you were first diagnosed.
Of course, that only meant there was currently no cancer detected in your body. It didn't mean you were cured–if only there was a cure–and it didn't mean you couldn't live life like any other person. You still had to have monthly tests to make sure the cancer doesn't come back, you couldn't be as active as you wanted, and of course, getting sick was an absolute panic around the house.
Every cough Natasha hears, every sneeze or sniffle, she'd go into panic mode. It drove you crazy as you grew up. You were never allowed to play the sick card when you wanted to stay home from school, otherwise, Natasha would have sent you straight to the ER.
"Hi mama." You smiled as you bounced into the kitchen.
Natasha glanced at you, immediately sensing something off. You don't bounce–not unless you're hiding something at least. "You okay, детка?"
"Yeah, I'm fine mom." You rolled your eyes as you grabbed an apple from the fridge. "Am I not allowed to be in a good mood?"
Natasha narrowed her eyes. You played the guilt card. Terrible idea. "Come here."
You gulped, taking a step closer to your mother. She reached out, placing the back of her hand against your forehead. "Y/n..." She sighed as panic began to set in. "Go upstairs and get back in bed. I'll call your doctor."
"Mom." You whined. "Please, I feel fine."
"No, Y/n." Natasha gently scolded. "You have a fever and I'm not taking any chances."
You groaned loudly. "Mom, a fever isn't gonna bring back the cancer!"
"It's a sign!" She screamed–completely out of fear. She let out a long sigh before continuing more calmly. "I'm not taking any chances."
"You're such a helicopter parent." You groaned, stomping back upstairs.
As soon as you were out of sight, Natasha removed her phone from her back pocket. Her hands shook, just as they always did when she searched for your doctor's contact.
Every time you were sick, she expected them to say your cancer was back. That you'd have to go through months and months of chemo just for a sixty-three percent chance to survive it–again.
Natasha wasn't sure she could handle it. Not again. You were so tiny and helpless when you were first diagnosed–Natasha wasn't even sure you understood what was going on.
"Hello?"
"Hi, Dr. White, it's Natasha."
___
You could hear your mother talking with your doctor over the phone downstairs. And you knew for a fact that Natasha would get you in for some tests–no matter how unnecessary Dr. White thinks it is. Especially since you had just gone in for your monthly blood tests and they were due to come back today.
You were fine. Honestly. So what if you had a little cold? You were still able to go to school–or ditch school–which was your original plan.
You pushed open your window, letting the chilled autumn air inside. You swiftly climbed out of the window, planting both of your feet on the roof of the small house you and Natasha share. You never realized how lucky you were to be able to simply step off the roof. The covered porch and the half wall on the edge, practically gave you a staircase to the ground.
Before taking off toward your friends house, you glanced through the window. You could see your mom pacing the kitchen, her body language telling you she was very anxious and for a second, you wanted to go back inside and let your mom take care of you.
The last thing you wanted was to give her another reason to freak out. But you needed a social life. You needed time with your friends. You needed to be a teenager. So, with one last glance at Natasha, you took off toward your friends house.
___
Natasha was pacing the kitchen, biting her nails down to the quick, and praying that your test results were fine.
She wasn't prepared to hear them just yet. She simply wanted you to be checked out by a doctor to ease her own nerves. But now Dr. White has the results and he doesn't sound like it's good news. His voice is solemn and he's doing a poor job at easing Natasha's nerves.
"The cancer is back."
Natasha stoped pacing. She stopped breathing.
"No." Please God no. "She's been in remission for eight years!"
Natasha wanted to scream and cry. She wanted, more than anything in this world, to take the cancer out of your body and put it in hers. At least then, you wouldn't be suffering.
"What now?" Natasha asked, giving in to reality. She was really starting to hate the universe.
"I'd like to start up Y/n's chemo again as soon as possible." Dr. White said.
Natasha went back and forth with Dr. White. Asking about the plan moving forward, the stage of cancer your currently in, if you should be going to school during chemo, if it's more aggressive than last time. She was asking every question that came to mind and most of his answers didn't put her at ease like she'd hoped.
Natasha wasn't even sure how to tell you that your cancer was back. As much as she's been worrying, even she was blindsided by this. After eight years in remission and suddenly out of the blue, your cancer was back. She could only imagine your reaction.
You've been begging and begging, just to live a normal life. To go out, be a teenager, have friends, experience life. And she never let you. She should have–because now, you really can't. Not until you're back in remission.
"Y/n?" Natasha called, knocking gently on your bedroom door. Her voice wavered, she couldn't believe this.
Natasha waited a second longer before knocking again, a bit more franticly this time. "Y/n, open the door." She called out. "I know your mad at me but we need to talk. Please."
No answer.
Natasha grabbed ahold of the door handle and pushed it open. She immediately felt the strong autumn wind whoosh against her face and her heart sank.
