Josh Dun x Reader

Cancer

Warnings: Mentions of illness/death, angst 

Word Count: 2380

Author's Note: This is a long one! I tried to include all of the crucial moments that tend to go along with cancer fics without making this a super long post, hopefully I did ok! 

On June 19th, the headache began. It didn't seem too out of the ordinary at first, after all you had spent most of the day staring at your computer screen and every now and again the eye strain would cause you to have a headache. You brushed it off as nothing, took some pain medication, and decided to call it a night.

One June 21st, you began to get concerned. The headache hadn't gone away, in fact, it had only gotten worse over the past few days. Trying to ignore the pounding in your head, you sat down in front of the computer and began to research lasting headaches. Everything you found seemed very minor or very serious. You decided to play it safe and call the doctor the next morning.

On June 22nd, you called the doctor and told Josh what had been going on. He immediately became panicked and shot a million questions at you, the main one being why you hadn't told him earlier. You calmly explained that you hadn't wanted to worry him if it had been nothing, and besides, how were you supposed to know that the headache was going to last for days?

One June 23rd, Josh drove you to the hospital. Your headache was still going strong, and no average amount of pain medication was doing anything to so much as reduce it a little. You were beginning to notice other little symptoms too: nausea came and went, your vision had gotten worse, and your balance was terrible. You were clumsy enough already, but now you managed to trip while standing still. The doctor listened intently as you explained these symptoms to him, and the look on his face while you did alluded to the fact that it wasn't looking good. Josh squeezed your hand tightly while you talked, but you knew it was more to reassure himself than it was to reassure you.

On June 25th, you found yourself back at the hospital. This time, it was for an MRI scan to see what exactly was going on in your brain. You gave Josh a small wave and a smile before you were wheeled off down a long hallway. Fear was swirling in your stomach, but you pushed it down deep and focused on the bright white tiles passing along beside you. The nurses were talking quietly behind you, creating a hum of background noise. The diagnosis wasn't good, you found out. In fact, it was worse than "not good". It turns out there was a tumor growing in part of your brain, causing the headaches and the blurry vision and the loss of balance. Josh pulled you into a hug, holding you so tightly that you weren't sure how you were still able to breathe. You wanted to hug him back, tell him you were ok, but you were in so much shock that you couldn't do anything but sit there and stare at the wall, wondering where everything had gone downhill.

On June 27th, you arrived at the oncology department of the hospital with a bag and your husband in tow. An overly-positive nurse checked you in and showed you to the room where you would be staying, as if you and Josh had just decided to go on vacation for awhile. You set your things down on the couch at the far side of the room and changed into a hospital gown before crawling up onto the hospital bed and making yourself comfortable. Josh smiled every time you looked over at him sitting on the couch, but you could see the sadness behind his eyes. It didn't take long before nurses were walking in and out of the room, hooking you up to various monitors and such. Josh sat quietly and watched, his eyes following every nurse that came and went from the room. You wanted to reach out and hold his hand to let him know you were ok, but he was too far and the nurses needed as much space as possible so you settled for giving him a shy smile every now and again. That night, you researched survival rates for tumors like the one you had on your phone while Josh was asleep. You fell asleep with tears in your eyes and fear in your heart.