FicWad

"When I was a young boy, my father took me into the city to see a marching band. He said 'Son, when you grow up will you be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned?' He asked me to defeat my demons and all the non-believers in me and crush the plans they've made to destroy me. He told me one day he'd leave me, a phantom in the summer, to join the black parade. I never knew what he meant. I just nodded. "You promise?" he had asked. And I had pinky promised him like it meant something. Then he died, a few weeks later. Of cancer. And now I'm grown and I have cancer. And I now realize what he meant. He wanted me to help people. People like him. People who needed help. Not just support as they die from cancer, but in general. He wanted me to help people. And I would if I could." I sigh. "You think I'm crazy."
"I do not." Wesley says. "Not at all."
Wes and I have two different dad's. He never knew his, and since my parents were never married, Wes never got to know my dad before he died.
"I failed my dad."
"You did not." Wesley says. "You still have a chance to help people."
"How?" I mutter. "I'm in the ICU. I'm dying. I lost my chance. My dad died from cancer and his dying wish was for me to help people and look what I did. I spent my life drinking and partying... barely made it through school. Made a mess of my life."
"Your dad died from cancer."
"Yeah?" I say. "Your point?"
"He wanted you to help people like him. Hopeless and broken. He wanted you to help them carry on."
"Right."
"And you're dying from cancer."
"Okay?"
"Help yourself." He says.
"What?"
"Help yourself. You're the person he wants you to help."
I don't say anything. I'm at a loss for words.
"Help yourself by actually trying to get better. Actually fighting to cure your cancer and then help people with the rest of your life. Instead of sitting here mopping and hoping your cancer kills you. And help yourself by taking Aria back. Dude, she loves you. And you pushed her away cause of your insecurities. Let her help you. Don't protect her from yourself, if all that does is hurt her. Get with it."
I sigh. "Wesley."
"Yeah?"
"You got the logic gene that I obviously lack." I laugh.
"Glad I could help." He stands up. "But I have an exam in twenty minutes so I gotta head out."
"Alright. Good luck."
"Yeah." He says. "Good luck to you too."
I finally ask a nurse to plug in my phone for me. And after it turns on, I look at the messages and missed calls. There are none from Aria. My other friends have tried to call and sent texts of encouragement. That's nice. But nothing from Aria.
I turn on the tv and hope it'll relax me. At least slightly.
To Kill a Mocking Bird is on. The movie. Aria loves this movie. I have no idea why. She's never even read the book. I have. Personally I wasn't a fan of the movie. But Aria loves it. She must have seen it twenty times. I sit there and close my eyes and listen to the movie Aria made me was about five times. We'd cuddle next to each other and watch the movie. She'd usually fall asleep near the end and I watch her sleep and run my fingers through her hair and rub her cheeks with my thumb...
Sometimes I'd even turn off the movie and sing to her. I'd wrap my arms around her and listen to her breathe like it was a melody from heaven.
I didn't like the movie all that much. But the things the movie gave to me, that time with Aria after she fell asleep, well, it made me love this movie. I could quote every line of this movie. I sit there with my eyes closed and mouth the words that they are saying. I can feel her presents next to me. I can feel Aria laying next to me, stroking my hair like I did to hers. I feel her fingers in mine. I hear the cold air of her breath on my neck. I open my eyes. And she's not there. She's not going to come either.