Can I Be Your Dying Wish

{FRANK’S POV}

I walked down the street, keeping to myself. Today wasn’t a good day. I woke up to a call from the doctor, he said my results were in but he wanted to talk to me about it in person. That was never a good sign.
I walked down the street and the hospital was in view now. As I got closer, I got more and more nervous.
I didn’t want to even go. I didn’t even want to know what I had. Whatever it was, I knew it wasn’t good. I’ve had pain in my chest. I thought it was a heart attack, that’s why I went to the hospital in the first place but when the tests came back the problem wasn’t in my heart, they said it might be in my lungs.
They asked me if I had any other symptoms and I told them I had chest pain, a cough that sounded like I had pneumonia, and I would occasionally cough up blood.
They did some tests and said that the results would be in soon. Which brings us to today, walking up to these hospital doors.
I took a deep breath and opened the doors before I walked in and went up to the front desk.
“Hi, do you have an appointment?” The lady behind the desk asked.
“Uhm, well not exactly, my doctor called and wanted to talk to me”
“And what’s your name?” She questioned.
“Uh, Frank Iero.” I answered.
“Oh, yes Dr. Watson is waiting for you. Go down that hallway, and go through the door with his name on the front.” She explained, motioning to a hallway
“Okay, thank you.” I said quietly.
I walked down the hall, glancing at the doors as I walked. I stopped when I reached the door with the name “WATSON M.D.“ etched on the plate by the door. I knocked.
“Come in!” He yelled through the door. I opened it and went in
“Hello, Mr. Iero, how are you today?” He asked rather cheerfully.
“I’ve been better “ I mumbled while avoiding eye contact.
“Well, I called you here to discuss your test results."He said, shuffling through some papers and grabbing one.
“And?” I said, looking at the paper he held.
“Well, we hoped that the test results might come back negative, but I’m afraid to say that you have stage 3 lung cancer,” He explained,“but it is curable, Frank, don’t worry about that.”
I just sat there, too shocked to say anything.
“S-so now what?” I finally spat out.
“Well, the sooner you start chemo and radiation, the better your chance of survival.” He replied.
“No.” I told him, simply.
“Excuse me?” He asked.
“I'm not doing it, I'm not putting myself through that, the nausea, the sickness, the tiredness caused by putting that poison in my body in hopes that it might help. It's not worth it, I’d rather just let it kill me.” I explained calmly.
“Well if you opt out of treatment, then I’d say you only have about 6 months to live.“ he explained.
“I can accept that.” I stated.
“Don"t you have anyone that will miss you, that you wanna be here for?” He asked.
“Nope, I live alone, my parents disowned me when I came out and I don't have a partner or anything like that.” I explained.
“Don’t you have any will to live, to fight this?” He asked.
“Nope." I stated blankly.
“Well, I can't force you to do this, but the longer you wait, the lower your survival rate. If you start this immediately, your survival rate is about 80% but if you wait just one month it goes down to only 50% and it keeps going down.” He explained.
"Well it’ll just keep going down." I
“Well if you don't want treatment, then I guess we’re done here.” He said.
“I guess we are." I agreed as I stood up.
"If you change your mind, call me." He offered.
“I won't.” I stated as I left.
I quickly walked out of the hospital. Once the chilly outside air hit my lungs, I went into a painful coughing fit. Every cough felt like something was inside of me, tightly gripping my lungs, getting tighter with each cough until it felt like I couldn't breathe at all. Then, it stopped as suddenly as it began.
I took a painful deep breath and looked around before deciding that I would stop and get a coffee. I walked down the street towards the nearest coffee shop. I only had to walk about ten minutes before arriving at Smiths' Cafe and opening the door. Instantly the smell of coffee began filling my diseased lungs. I walked to the counter and ordered just a black coffee, as I usually did and the barista quickly made it and gave it to me. The shop was unusually packed today, there were only two or three tables that were open, I sat down at the empty table in the corner. At the table across from me another man sat quite engulfed by a drawing he was doing. He had a mess of long black hair atop his head that reached to about his chin. When I pulled out my chair to sit, the noise pulled his attention from the drawing and he looked up at me as I sat causing me to quickly look down. I sat down and stared at the coffee I held in my hands, now concentrating on the slight crackle sound that my lungs made whenever I inhaled. It was quite an annoying sound actually, I tried clearing my throat a few times to get rid of it but it didn't help. I took a sip of my coffee but a sudden cough nearly made me spit it out. I swallowed my coffee and took a breath, trying to dull the pain that now made its way into my lungs. I sat there quietly staring at the table, thinking about what the doctor told me. I only have about six months left on this planet.
Six months longer to live.
Only one month ago I was perfectly healthy and now it's getting harder and harder for me to breathe.
I was ripped from my thoughts when someone pulled out the chair in front of me , the sudden noise causing me to jump
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I'm Gerard, may I sit with you?"
“Uh, sure.” I said quietly.
"Thank you." He said, smiling as he sat in the seat across from me.
I just looked at him, he had hazel, almost yellow eyes, that looked at me as I looked at him.
“Why are you all alone?” he asked, breaking the silence
“I have nobody to be with.” I replied.
"Why's that?" He asked, tilting his head to the side a bit.
“I just don't.” I said.
"Oh, well you have me to sit with now."
I just sat there quietly, unsure of what to say
"Unless you'd rather me leave?" He offered.
“No, you're fine. I'm not good at the whole socializing thing.”
"I'm not the best at it either, honestly." He gave me a crooked smile.
“So what were you drawing?”
"You'll laugh if I tell you." He said, the crooked smile still on his face and a slight blush on his cheeks.
“I won't."
"Promise?"
“Promise.”
"Well I was drawing this character. I call her Mother War," He started but blushed and looked down,"you think it's stupid."
“No I don't. What does she look like?”
"Uh, here." He said, flipping open his sketchbook to a certain page and handing it to me.
When I looked at the page I saw an amazing drawing of a woman in an almost formal dress. She was wearing a gas mask with the hose attached to it that resembled an elephant's trunk.
“Wow, it's really good.” I said, still looking at the page.
"Thanks." He said quietly.
“Why are you being shy about it?” I asked without thinking
“I dunno, I guess I'm just shy about my work."
“Well you're really good at it. It must be neat to be able to draw so well.”
"Thanks. What do you like to do?" He asked, changing the subject.
“I play guitar.” I answered.
"Do you write your own songs or do you play other people's songs?
“Both.” I replied.
"That's awesome. I always wanted to play guitar but I just suck at it."
“Well it's not too complicated, maybe I could teach you a few chords." I offered, shyly.
The lopsided smile spread across his face once again,"Yeah, I'd like that."
We sat there a bit longer in silence before he looked up at the clock.
“Well, it looks like I have to go. Here.” He said, ripping a piece of paper from his sketchbook and quickly writing something on it before handing it to me. I looked at it and it was his phone number.
“Call me for that guitar lesson.” He said, smiling, before getting up, gathering his stuff and leaving.

Notes

okay, im back, i havent been here for a while, and yes this fic was uploaded under a different account but it got deleted so im re-doing it here.
i hope you like this