The Tree in the Forest

Chapter Twelve

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  "What?" You trailed off. What he was saying could not be true. He couldn't have cancer. He couldn't.

  "I-," Karkat begins, but stops himself. "I'm sorry,"

  "Don't apologize." You state simply.

  "T-they don't know exactly what I have. That's the scary part. They could tell that I had it all around my body from the CAT scans they took, though. My blood tests come back in around Monday," He said. His voice turned almost robotic as his explanation continued, like he was avoiding any emotion.

  You couldn't even begin to estimate how terrified he must be. You subconsciously wanted it to be a false alarm and the doctors say that he didn't have anything. You wanted the CAT scans to have been wrong.

You didn't want to know what he had, but you did at the same time. You didn't want to know the probability of him dying and leaving you forever. Jesus Christ, you're selfish.

  You hugged him tightly. You aren't quite sure if it was to comfort him or yourself, but you did it anyway. He had started to cry on your shoulder and you didn't even try to stop him.

"Dave. Please don't tell the others," He mumbled. You agreed, but you didn't understand why he didn't want anyone else to know. You just didn't question it.

You sat with him on his bed. You wanted to give him that kiss and assure him that you were going to be there the whole time. You wanted to assure him that you wouldn't leave him, especially not now, but you had the slightest feeling that saying that might make it worse.

"My dad's taking it really hard," Karkat said quietly. You don't blame him. Karkat is his youngest son and the only one of his sons that still lives with him. Without Karkat, he'd be alone at home all day and all night. You can't imagine how painful that would be for him.

"Oh." You couldn't manage anything else. He didn't comment on your simple answer, though. When you looked over at him, he still had the occasional tear slipping from his eyes.

You laid with him for a long while before he insisted that you leave. You left without complaint. He might just want to spend time with his father. For all we know, Karkat might not last much longer and he'd want to be with his family more.

Morbid, Dave. Morbid.

You wiped at your eyes again before heading down the street. You got on the earliest bus back to your street, showing the driver your return ticket. You're lucky that he didn't hear your sad sniffle.

Some people in the bus looked at you strangely, but they always do. It's not everyday you see pale, blond teenagers with aviators and tear stains on their sleeve. You didn't respond to their looks like you normally would have. You were too sad. No, you were too devastated.

You didn't wave to Ms. Peregrine, but she didn't call to you. You just saw a glimpse of her worried face before running up the stairs to your apartment.

You walked in, trying not to give any sign that you were upset, passing Roxy, who was sitting on the couch, easily. You didn't want to answer questions.

You heard her start a sentence, but it quickly stopped with no further sounds of her voice.

Somewhere in your mind, you wanted her to hug and reassure you, but on the other hand, that might make everything hurt more.

You heard talking from outside of your bedroom door, but didn't bother to try and decipher the conversation. It was petty and meaningless to you now.

                                   ~<>~

  You don't know when you fell asleep, but you know that you woke up in the middle of the night. There was no one outside of your door anymore.

  You can't force yourself to sleep again. Your chest hurts, and you don't know why you're so upset by the news from Karkat. Yeah, you'd understand being a little sad, but you shouldn't be having literal pains in your chest. You shouldn't be crying as much as you are.

  You wish you could've been able to hold Karkat, for the comfort and reassurance of the both of you. You wouldn't ever let him go. Metaphorically, of course, but still.

  Your throat is still tight and your stomach still feels like it's dangling from you, but you still can't even compare it to what Karkat must be feeling.

  It's probably the worst feeling when you know that you have a terminal illness, but not knowing what kind of sickness you have.

  You slink out of your room and see Bro sitting at the table. Roxy was passed out on the couch and the light to Rose and Roxy's room was on, telling you that Rose was in there.

  "Hey, Dave. You good? Roxy told me you looked pretty upset when you came home." Bro asked. You just kept your gaze at your feet, not talking or even acknowledging that he was there at all.

  "Dave, listen to me. I want you to be happy but I can't do that if you don't tell me what's eatin' at ya'," He was prying at you now and you wanted him to stop. You ignored him farther, heading into the kitchen to rummage through the fridge.

"David Strider, look at me," He used the voice he used when you were in trouble. You decided not to fight it anymore and turned to him, happy that your shades were blocking your puffy eyes from his view.

"What?" You huff, trying to seem indifferent about everything. He gestured you over and you walked towards him.

"What's your problem Dave? Roxy's worried about you, and now I am," He said. You wanted to break, but you forced yourself not to.

"Nothing. I just don't feel good," You muttered. He didn't believe you, but he didn't dig any deeper and sent you on your way.

~~~

Dave is being depressing as fuck omg

But it's necessary. If my incredibly gay crush of like 2-3 years got cancer, I'd be pretty fucking mad and sad. Smad.

Anyway, what do you guys think of the story so far?

It's turning out ok in my perspective, but I've read over the drafts 800million times.

But that's it. Bye, you lovely reader, you!

~Ghostie