Star Wars Preferences and Imagines

60: Cancer *triggering?*

//Okay, so, I was gonna do this a long time ago and I ended up just writing an AU instead, but I really kind of want to write it because its something that has really effected my family and extended family, and recently I have been watching a few letsplays of That Dragon, Cancer and it has kind of made me emotional... This is a pretty heavy chapter, so sorry for being sad...I actually cried while writing Finns, because I basically rewrote what has actually happened to me...so yeah, its genuine I guess. Also, Id like to clarify that this will be either you or they have cancer, not just you. And i listened to the Hospice Album by The Antlers as inspiration, and I highly suggest listening to them while you read this for a stronger affect.//

Finn:
The day, which seemed at first to be like any other day, blackened in an instant. You were fine, it was hard to see the light leave your eyes so quickly. It hit you instantly, and you were throwing up blood. Cancer had traveled from your liver to your kidneys, and it was moving quickly. It was too late to treat you. They gave you a few weeks, and moved you into hospice care. Moving the few things that you had into your room was the worst of it. Finn was forced to accept that this was the place where you would spend your last days. You had a very hard time handling it, it was far too sudden, and you were far too young.
Priests and soldiers came and went, but Finn stayed. And the last time he saw you, you were laying in that metal bed with morphine alarms ringing in your ears, and you told him to move on.

Poe:
He was gone on a mission when you found out, and he didn't return until it was merely a month until your time was up. It hit him like a brick wall, seeing you so weak and frail. He slept with you, in that hospital bed. It killed everyone to see you and him like that. Everyone knew him as strong and bold, but he began to wither as much as you were. Seeing him like that was doing all but make you feel better. It made you not want to wake up, if waking up meant looking at his red eyes and tear stained cheeks. You wanted him to smile, to laugh as he once did.
It was your last week, and you wanted to celebrate. You wanted to celebrate every day of the week, until you were gone. You wanted to celebrate all you once were, and all the happy memories you made, and you wanted to make as many happy memories as you could until you could no longer. It was half way through the week, and there were balloons littering your room. Poe was holding your hand, laughing at something someone said. There was a flicker of light in his eyes, something you were hoping to see before you died. And you died happy- something not many people these days could say if they could.

Rey:
The cancer traveled through her like the force did around all beings in the universe. She was too young. You panicked, as anyone would. Rey was calm, far too calm to actually be okay. A few weeks later, she was laying in a hospital bed, and you had shaved your head so she wouldn't feel alone. She was strong, she fought with all she had against the monster in her stomach. She puked everything she ate, so they had to feed tubes into her stomach and she had to sign to talk. She was so casual, it almost seemed as though she didn't mind being stuck in a room all day with medication being pumped into her.
It was almost a year, a year filled with tears, visits from Luke and Leia alike, and a lot of gifts and medication, she broke through. There was no denying that it would always be there, but for now you were happy, and your hair was growing back.

Kylo Ren:
The last days were the worst. For a moment, there was no war. There was no conflict. Everything was held off. His mother, General Leia Organa, had came to visit in the moment of peace. It was hard to think that the last time she saw him, he was a happy little kid, and now he was lying in a hospital bed ready to apologize to his father. There were many tears, even from General Hux. In his last days, he could hardly speak, the death that lay waiting in his lungs got the better of him. You were holding his hand as he passed, and his old mentor Luke Skywalker was sitting next to you. He felt him leave, and it was the first time you had ever seen a Jedi cry. Soon, everything went back to what it was, but everything was a bit more dull. Without Kylo, the first order was almost nothing. The Empire always had a Sith, and without Kylo, what was the first order? Hux tried to keep everyone as they were, but it seemed like all the hope had drained from him. You left, as did many, and no one tried to stop you. There as nothing keeping you there, so you left in search of Leia Organa, the only part of Kylo that hadn't been eaten alive by cancer.

Hux:
Stage III colon cancer, with a forty percent chance of survival. The First Order wasn't prepared to loose its most important General, and it seemed they would never recover. He was, as it seems, the only one not deathly afraid of Kylo Ren. The cancer has spread, and soon it would make its way to his brain, and there wasn't any hope in stopping it. If only you caught it earlier... You were destroyed, he was the only one who cared for you, who cared about you. You couldn't loose him. He was all you had. But now it was your turn to take care of him. He gave up being the big tough general, and let the facade go. When he only had a few weeks left, he apologized to you. For taking you from your home, for now leaving you there alone. He cried, endlessly. The only thing you could do was hug him, and remember his scent. In his last week, you slept with him, and never left his room. You didn't eat, because he couldn't. Surprisingly, Kylo visited. You may have been mistaken, but you would have sworn that a little part of him withered. Hux was strong, anyone would vouch for that. But to see him so weak could really make you wonder how strong we really are, especially when all we can do is be strong. When you can't be strong, there is nothing left. He died in your arms, in the middle of the night, and you woke up clutching a cold, lifeless body; they had to tear you away from him.