May I please have a scenario where William finds out his s/o has some deathly illness please? You're such a good writer I couldn't resist asking!
Boy, everyone wanting angst lately!! XD But I’m not about to complain, angst is great~ Thank you so much, you’re sweet! <3
It probably isn’t any of his business to be there in the doctor’s office with them. He shouldn’t be here, anyway; William T. Spears never takes personal days, not even when he’s sick himself. It’s… different when it comes to (Y/N), though. He would do anything for them, and more. Their love woke him up inside, reminding him there is more to life than work, even when that work is supposed to be his punishment. It’s impossible to keep his head down and ignore things now that all he wants is to look up at them for the rest of his life.
They haven’t been well lately. William would have brushed off the same symptoms if it had been him – a persistent cough, fatigue, sore muscles, nausea. It would have just seemed like a bad cold to him. But seeing it on them, he can see more clearly that this is something more serious. What he would have worked through himself, he pushed (Y/N) to see a physician for.
It’s not that the doctor isn’t sympathetic, because he is. He breaks the terrible news as gently as he can, tells them both he’s sorry, and then quietly leaves to give them a few moments of privacy. The way he speaks and moves and his face is enough to tell William, at least, that this isn’t the first time he’s had to deliver a death sentence like this.
They were putting on a brave face during the whole appointment, and it appears to have been mostly for the doctor’s benefit. As soon as he’s out of the room, their features crumple into a picture of despair that makes William’s chest ache. He has never seen an expression like that on their face. He’s sure even after the first time he sees it that he never wants to see it again. Their hands hide their face and they slump down on themselves before William moves to take them in his arms.
He’s almost afraid to touch them now. All of a sudden, they seem fragile and breakable and human. Of course he knew their death was going to come sooner or later because they’re mortal, but… this soon? Within months, if not weeks? Isn’t there something that human medicine can do? He knows the answer, and it isn’t fair.
Once he has them in his embrace, they latch on, squeezing their arms around his waist and sobbing into his chest. “I don’t want to die, William! I don’t want to die!” Their shoulders are shaking and they don’t seem to know what to do with themselves other than cry. All they can do is weep and hold onto him as if he’s the only thing keeping them here.
For once, William wants to speak. He wants so desperately to say something, anything, anything that will take away this pain so that his beloved doesn’t have to hurt so much. What God is there that would let someone as full of life as (Y/N) suffer like this? What sense is there in the world for this? The one time that all he wants to do is say something, there is nothing to say. Nothing can make this any better.
His lips purse tightly and his jaw clenches as he holds them close, until his muscles are too tired to hold his anguish in any longer. Tears slip down his face, slowly, landing in their hair. One hand pushes his glasses up to scrub them away, but more take their place.
Finally he finds something to choke out; it’s the only thing that he can think to say. “… I’m sorry…”