Ah, I'm about 89% recovered, so close enough. xD and no, you didnt scare them away. The artists who were going to enter, issues happened of the real life variety prevented some from being able to get their submissions done. Even so, I'm still glad at least you entered!
xd 89% Make it 90%...well, hopefully it's more than that now.
Posted: Tue Feb 04, 2014 4:50 pm
*FLAILS FOREVER* nope, still surprised, even after it's been a few weeks, this thing sucked, how the crap did I even win aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.
Please find my fic underneath the spoiler cut. I may also post it up on ao3 as well, for slightly easier readability; I'll put a link here if I do.
*CONTINUES FLAILING FOREVER*
A Heart’s a Heavy Burden (a burden too much to bear)
Eliwood sits in silence in the back of the taxi, mind too numb to produce a coherent thought, yet racing all the same.
He needs to call the baby sitter, see if she can stay for a few hours more today. He needs to call his mother, and his brother-in-law, give them the news. He needs to get bank statements, see what exactly they have to work with--much, but is it enough, could money even help--he needs to see their options, maybe hire a second sitter, look at everything again for the sixteenth time and see if maybe, maybe--
He looks down at his wife, fast asleep now, her head resting in the crook of his shoulder, his arm wrapped around her all he can do now to protect her from the heart that is killing her.
He needs this to stop.
Outside, the world is still turning. People walk to and fro on the sidewalk, in the cross walk, in and out of building after building after building. In his pocket, he knows his phone is lighting up with message after message, email after email, missed call after missed call, new voicemail after new voicemail. The work never ends, the world keeps moving, still doing, still being, still turning.
He wants it to stop. He thinks it ought to be stopped.
His world already is.
The car pulls up in front of their apartment building. He thanks the driver and carries his wife inside, wrapped in his coat jacket. He knows she doesn’t get cold, but still, he worries. It is October and the temperatures are turning colder, the world moving toward hibernation and dragging his most precious person down with it.
He doesn’t want to think about how many days he has left with her. She is alive, for now. He will focus on that.
He carries her to the elevator, up to the top floor apartment, and into their home. He takes her to their room, sets her on their bed, removes her shoes and his jacket, yanks the covers back, and tucks her underneath.
He wants the pain meds to never wear off and for her not to hurt when she wakes. He wants the fluid in her lungs to just disappear. He wants her heart to just keep beating.
He wants to hope. He wants to scream and scream and scream until it all goes away, until it all just stops.
He falls to his knees beside his sleeping beloved and cries and cries and cries.
He’s mourned her once already. He doesn’t know if he can do it again.
The sitter answers on the third ring, says she’d love to keep Roy for a few more hours and not to worry about him.
His mother answers on the first ring and he can’t stop himself from crying again when she asks what the verdict is. She comes right over and holds him like he’s still her baby boy. He doesn’t know how much time passes before he can think enough to explain.
Fluid on the lungs. Dizziness, lightheadedness, and fainting, what had brought them to the doctor’s in the first place. Irregular heartbeats. Fatigue and breathlessness. Those and more all possible symptoms that would only get worse. Her pregnancy only exacerbated her condition. The meds can only help the symptoms. A heart transplant may be her only option, if the meds can’t control the symptoms well enough. There is no cure.
It’s called restrictive cardiomyopathy, and it is killing her.
His mother says she’s going to stay with them, says not to worry, says that she’ll make sure Roy is looked after. He can’t find the words to express how grateful he is.
Every thought is don’t go, don’t leave me, I can’t lose you again, don’t go, please, I beg you.
Every breath is Ninian.
She wakes up late that evening, her breath labored. He holds her hand, asks if she wants something to eat. She says no.
She puts her hand against his face, says I’m sorry.
He places his hand over hers, says it’s fine.
They both know it’s anything but.
He’d always known she was going to die.
“She is going to die” was a far off thing, an “in another few years or so” thing, a “well, we’re all going to die sooner or later” thing.
“She is dying” was a now thing, an immediate thing, an “in another few days” thing, a “sooner, not later” thing.
He’d always known she was going to die.
He just didn’t think it would be now.
In the morning, before they go back to the hospital for more testing, Ninian calls her brother. He’s out of the country on a year-long Study Abroad trip. In between sobs, Ninian tells him to stay, that it’s okay.
Nils responds, “I’ll be home for Christmas.”
He knows, somehow, not to wait until the summer to come back.
He knows she may not have that long.
The tests come back a few weeks later with definitive answers. A heart transplant is likely the only option, but they want to try something called a VAD. If that works well enough, she may not need the transplant just yet, but she’ll be put on the lists anyway. It can take a while to find an acceptable heart, the doctors say.
Too long, they know.
It’s the beginning of November, and if she can’t get a heart transplant soon, she may not live to see her son’s first Christmas.
But she doesn’t think about that. Instead, Eliwood watches her throw herself into planning Thanksgiving with his mother. She spends as much time with their son as she can. She spends her birthday in the hospital.
She doesn’t think about the fact that this is the last birthday she’ll ever get to celebrate.
She looks at him when he asks her to rest, to think of herself, and says, “If I can’t have Christmas, I’m at least going to have Thanksgiving with everyone. It will give me the chance to say--to say goodbye.”
He doesn’t say anything after that.
He sits beside her on the couch the night before the holiday. She’s had another dizzy spell today. The turkey is in the oven, to cook all night long. The pumpkin pies are made, the cranberry sauce is in the fridge next to all manner of other things. They’ll bake the bread tomorrow, right before everyone’s due over.
He thinks he might vibrate right out of his skull.
He hasn’t been in to work since the diagnosis. He’s letting Marcus handle everything for the time being. Part of him wants to throw himself into his work and forget, to pretend that this isn’t happening, that maybe the doctors have it wrong and she’ll be fine, everything will be fine. But the other part of him doesn’t want to let her out of his sight, not when he only has so little time left with her, and that part is stronger.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“Mm?”
“I’m sorry I’m being so selfish,” she clarifies. “Part of me wants to run, to find Nils and go back to how things were, when life was simpler, and just the two of us, and my heart wasn’t . . . But I want to spend as much time with you as I can before it’s too late, and that part of me is stronger. I’m sorry,” and then she’s crying again and clinging to him and he thinks his heart is going to burst from how much he loves her, and it’s his heart that’s seizing and freezing and choking him and by God, he’s going to miss her, and he knows even as he holds her tight and cries right along with her that he can’t do this, he won’t do this, but he has to, has to be strong for her, this woman who has loved so much and so hard that her heart is literally unable to contain it all, and it’s killing him that this is killing her.
She is mercifully better the next day, all throughout the party. Florina passes her daughter to her husband and embraces Ninian and hugs her and hugs her until they’re both choking back tears. Hector claps Eliwood on the shoulder but says nothing. There are no words for this, he knows. Eliwood knows it, too. He’s been looking for the words and finding nothing for almost two months now.
Instead, baby Lilina does all the talking, cooing and grunting for attention. Eliwood finds a laugh for her and coos back, eliciting giggles from the tiny girl. Hector sets her on the floor next to Roy and they watch as the two children size each other up. Roy blows spit bubbles. Lilina pops them with a smack of her tiny hand. Roy screeches in delight and kicks and flails and blows more bubbles, to the sound of Lilina’s squealing laughter and kicking and flailing, the two babies instant best friends.
Their parents watch and smile and laugh, and for a moment, everything is alright, everything is perfectly ordinary.
They are deafened by the noise of all they’re not saying.
The party goes well. Dinner is lovely, and everyone tells Eleanora and Ninian so. Everyone has been able to come, finding comfort in each other, all together, to offer that comfort, to receive it, to give it back.
Ninian smiles as she hugs Lyn, then nods her head to Rath, ever silent. Lyn rambles on about this and that, trying to keep everyone’s spirits up. Nino’s arrival helps with the cheer, despite the obvious worry she tries to hide under guise of concern for her husband, who has to work this holiday, as he volunteers to do every holiday. Rebecca and Wil help, too, and there is talk of children in the future for Lyn and Rebecca, eliciting nervous laughter from Wil and a semi-panicked look from Rath that means he isn’t at all ready for that, a look which sends another peal of laughter ringing. Even Marcus stops by for a few brief moments, followed by a slightly haggard looking Lowen, as well as Isadora and Harken, the latter two of which are able to stay longer. Everyone is all smiles and laughter and enjoyment of the holiday.
It’s all so normal, and Eliwood thinks he’s going to puke.
After dinner, and after they’ve all finished the wonderful dessert, Ninian suggests they all go around and say something they are each thankful for, a tradition she and Nils have had for as long as either of them can remember. Ninian begins it with “I am thankful for snow.”
Eleanora pipes up, “I’m thankful for nonstick pans and dishwashers.”
Hector is still barking his booming laughter as he says, “Pumpkin pie!”
“Books,” says Nino.
“Ponytail holders,” Lyn jokes.
“And good hairdressers,” Isadora adds.
“I’m thankful for chocolate fudge,” Rebecca says.
The list goes on and on, getting sillier and sillier with each response.
It’s all so nice that Eliwood almost forgets until Florina says, “I’m so thankful I got to meet you, Ninian,” and then he nearly chokes on the heart that’s suddenly in his throat.
Everyone leaves in ones and twos as the night winds down. As they do, Ninian takes a moment with each of them to say thank you once more, and to quietly reassure them that everything is going to be alright. Everyone pretends to believe her. They all want to believe her. They all want it to not be the goodbye that it is.
Hector pulls Eliwood aside before he goes and asks quietly, “Really, how are you?”
Eliwood’s lost look is the only answer he can find to give.
Once again, it is Florina who comes out and says what they’re all thinking: “Ninian, I love you. I just wanted you to know that before--” and she can’t bring herself to finish before you’re gone.
Eliwood is almost glad when everyone has left and Roy is down to sleep for the night and Eleanora has gone to bed as well. It means he can hold his wife and let the tears fall in peace.
He feels as though his life has become a series of pictures.
The party was one, a picture of plastered smiles that occasionally became real for brief, fleeting moments, and delicious food made better by good company.
The doctors are another, with test after test after test, only to find that we’re sorry, but your wife isn’t a candidate for the VAD and a heart transplant is her only option now.
Roy is another, a tiny little baby growing and growing by the day, growing into a pudgy little boy, full of curiosity, slowly learning how to use his small body.
Nils is yet another, calling almost daily, trying to hide his frantic worry for his sister, despite her reassurances. His boyfriend, FD, helps, mainly just by being there when there is too many thousands of miles across the ocean from where he wants to be.
The weather is a fifth photograph, the falling leaves turning into falling snow, the snow which always made Ninian feel more at home no matter where she was that month, that week, that day. Roy stares at the white powder in wide-eyed confusion that, little by little, turns to childish delight in the simple things.
The hospital is the background to all of it. Ninian is in and out, out and in, and more in than out as November becomes December and Christmas music takes over the airwaves. The hospital is the background and the frame is dizziness and fainting spells, heart murmurs and fatigue. Her legs swell, and she hasn’t danced in months, will never dance again, something she refuses to think about even as she makes Eliwood take her to the studio. If she can’t dance, at least she can still teach, she said after the initial diagnosis. She can still teach for now.
She is still alive, for now.
For now is two months, one week, three days, nine hours, and fifteen minutes.
Then she stumbles in the kitchen and coughs up blood.
It is December 11th, and Ninian is dying.
Eliwood thinks no and no and please God, no.
He thinks, all I want for Christmas is for you to still be alive.
It is December 14th. It is official: Ninian can’t leave the hospital. Not unless she gets a heart transplant. A tube drains the fluid from her lungs.
Ninian won’t be going home again, they know. Neither will Eliwood; he will not leave her, vowing to stay by her side until the very end.
It is December 18th. The doctors shake their heads. There isn't a heart yet. There is an oxygen tube.
Nils calls to say he’s flying back on the 22nd, he and FD both. He knows he’ll be cutting it close; Eliwood doesn’t have to say hurry.
Unless there’s a miracle, there isn’t going to be a heart.
“Don’t let them resuscitate me,” she whispers.
“What?”
She smiles sadly, sheepishly. “I’ve been resuscitated once before. I’ve no wish to go through that again.”
He clutches her hand. His eyes scream no.
“Please,” she says. “Eliwood . . . I’m scared,” she admits. “Not of dying,” she amends quickly. “I’ve done that before. It doesn’t hurt. I . . . I’m scared of leaving you.”
“Ninian,” he says, because he is scared of that, too, so utterly terrified. “I thought . . . I thought I would spend the rest of my life with you.”
She smiles as she sobs, inhaling a shuddering breath. “So did I. It looks like I am the only one who gets to do that.”
His forehead hits the mattress. “I was supposed to protect you,” he finally chokes out.
“You did,” she whispers. “You did.”
It is December 22nd. Nils’ plane lands just before midnight, delayed by the snow. He and FD are at the hospital by 2 a.m. “Sister,” he says, and drops his bag to take her hand in his.
He sees the oxygen tubes in her nose, the tube from her lungs, the IV in her other hand, and hears the not-so-steady beep--beep of the heart monitor. He looks at his brother-in-law. He knows.
Eliwood nods.
This is it.
It is officially winter and the world is settling down into sleep. The winter is taking their world, their Ninian, with it. But for her, there will be no spring.
Nils clings to his sister and doesn’t let go even when his boyfriend wraps his arms around Nils from behind and tries to hold him together.
It’s Christmas Eve. Eleanora brings Roy to see them. He is frightened of the machines until he hears his mother’s voice, thin and fragile though it is. Nils and his boyfriend come. No one else now, just family.
Ninian has already said her goodbyes to everyone else, everyone who matters.
They open Roy’s presents, Eleanora helping the baby to rip the paper off each one. He is more interested in the boxes than the toys inside.
Eliwood wants to say that next year, they should just get him a box. He doesn’t. He can’t bring himself to think of next year.
Eleanora holds Roy so that Ninian can kiss her son a good night that is a goodbye laced with I’m sorry and please remember me and please don’t remember me like this and know that I love you, always and forever.
Eliwood leaves the room while Ninian says goodbye to her brother, she the only mother he has ever known. Nils doesn’t look at Eliwood as he leaves, instead falling into his lover's arms and letting the older man half carry him out of the hospital, all the way to their apartment. Eliwood watches them go, sad and jealous and happy for them, because it’s obvious how much Nils is loved and he knows that Nils will be alright with someone who loves him by his side, just as he knows that he will never be okay ever again.
Eliwood turns back into the room, sees his beloved lying in the hospital bed, her heart turning to stone inside her chest, and fights not to fall to the floor and stay there and never move again because he can’t.
Ninian reaches for him and he summons the strength to stay standing, to walk to her side and take her hand. Even though Nils has just spent minutes hours days weeks months years eternity not enough time never enough holding it, her hand is still ice cold.
He doesn’t want to think about what will happen when her heart is the same as her hand. Cold hands, warm heart, as the saying goes, and Ninian’s hands were colder than most, and her heart was warmer than that of any other person he has ever known.
She tries to speak and he leans down so that he can hear her better and she doesn’t have to waste her strength trying to talk normally.
“At home . . .,” she is saying, “in the dresser . . . top drawer . . . I-I wrote . . . letters. Give them--give them to . . . everyone . . . when I’m. . . . Roy’s . . . give it . . . to him . . . when he’s older . . . when he . . . can under . . . stand. . . .”
“I will,” he says, “I promise.”
They sit in silence, listening to her heart beat and stutter, beat and murmur.
He climbs into bed with her, holds her as close as he can, careful not to tug on any of the lines and cords connected to her. He puts his nose in her hair as she tucks her head underneath his chin and inhales deeply.
“I love you, Eliwood,” she breathes.
“I love you, my Ninian,” he tells her.
Her heart murmurs. It whispers I’m sorry and I love you and goodbye.
He murmurs back, I’m sorry and I love you and goodbye, until the only murmurs come from him, whispering over the long eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.
Notes:
[BUUUUH WHAT IS FORMATTING.]
Too much thought and too little research and planning went in to this fic that has become a thing of its own. Below are a few things that I hope were clear enough in the fic, but that I would like to expand upon a bit, mostly for my own reference.
-This fic is obviously a modern AU of FE6/7, taking place after Eliwood and Ninian are married. The exact timeline is from early October to Christmas Eve of the same year.
-Cardiomyopathy is a real disease. Restrictive cardiomyopathy is one of three (I believe) types, and there is currently no known cure for it, only medication that can only maybe help the symptoms. I did not use tuberculosis, or consumption as it was called way back when, since everyone who dies of illness in FE6/7 seems to die of that, and, as with cancer, I’d much rather stay away from the cliche illness. Cardiomyopathy was my hastily researched solution, despite the fact that it also meant that this fic pretty much had to take place in a modern AU.
-Any mistakes are my own and most likely the result of quickly done research on a disease that I am not at all familiar enough with for my preference in writing a piece like this.
-Eliwood is the owner/manager/CEO of a large company, a position previously held by his father, who died in the midst of a conspiracy involving his and several other companies. Eleanora lives in the apartment below her son and his wife, and mostly keeps to herself nowadays.
-Ninian is a dancer as well as a dance instructor. She founded and runs her own studio, helped immensely by Eliwood, whose company sponsors it. Nils, her brother, is in college; both he and his boyfriend FD are out of the country on a year-long Study Abroad/exchange program in a university in Europe. Nils and FD are both history majors (because I have this weird headcanon that Nils is obsessed with history).
-Both Ninian and Nils’ parents are dead, their mother when Nils was a very young child, their father killed in relation to the conspiracy. The two were in and out of foster homes for years, until Ninian was old enough to get custody of her brother and raise him on her own. Eliwood saved her life, and in return, Ninian aided him in finding his missing father. She was nearly killed in the process, her heart completely stopped before the paramedics were able to resuscitate her.
-Roy is not yet a year old, born earlier in the current year. Her pregnancy exacerbated Ninian’s heart condition, eventually resulting in the symptoms that lead to her visit to the doctor, a battery of tests, and finally a diagnosis of restrictive cardiomyopathy.
-Hector is Eliwood’s best friend and the head of another company, now that his brother Uther is dead, that has a partnership with Eliwood’s, a partnership that has existed since Eliwood’s father, Elbert, and Hector’s parents were alive. Hector’s wife, Florina, is Ninian’s best friend, and she helps Hector to keep things in order, along with Oswin, Matthew, and Serra, his top employees. Hector and Florina’s daughter, Lilina, is almost the same age as Roy, although he is the older of the two.
-Marcus is to Eliwood what Oswin is to Hector. Lowen is Marcus’s direct underling. Harken and his wife Isadora are also top employees for Eliwood. All worked for Eliwood’s father prior to his death, and, with the exception of Lowen, have been with the company for several years now.
-Jaffar is a police officer, a position he was able to get after Eliwood put in a good word for him, preventing him from being charged for anything he did in relation to the conspiracy. Nino, his wife, is close friends with Florina and Rebecca and Lyn and Ninian, and runs a small bookshop where she can spend her days reading as much as she likes. Jaffar always volunteers to work holidays, not because he wants to be away from Nino, but because he wants to give back to the people he’s hurt, and stop others like him from hurting more people.
-Rebecca and Wil are married, as are Lyn and Rath. Lyn was once in a position to take over control of her grandfather’s company, but gave it up to live a simpler life out in the countryside with Rath, breeding and raising horses, as well as training riders. Her company was bought by Hector’s, who has kept it running with Kent at the helm, and Lyn has donated most of the money from the sale to charity. Wil works with Kent; Rebecca teaches archery at a local school, where Fiora, Kent’s wife, also teaches.
-Modern AUs are weird and hard and I don’t ever recall doing one before and coming up with jobs for everyone is HARD.
