Lucille Fisher (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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rainbowfic2015-08-05 03:04 pm
novel_machinist) wrote in rainbowfic2015-08-05 03:04 pm
8 Sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness.
Author: novel_machinist
Story: The Devil is a Gentleman
Theme: Literary / Octarine 8 Sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness.
Word Count: 271
Summary: Alan and Carl. Sadly, they both know how this is going to end
Rating: PG13
Warnings: mentions of cancer
Notes: And with this ends the backstory and the backlog I'd been slogging thru. Everything that I've kept with Gentlemen is out. From here on in, it'll be new material. And a change of course, but sadly, not a change of fates.
Sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness.
Maybe Carl knew it then, but his marriage wasn't meant to last. The prolonged pain of Anthony's sudden death and the reminders from each other were too much of a strain. Patti ran off with one of her law students. Carl moved into the apartment just across the hallway from Alan.
It had been weighing on Carl all day. The morning passed and they had been parting for the evening, hands on their doors when Carl said, very softly, into the door. “I have cancer, Al.”
Alan nearly dropped his bag. He couldn’t bring himself to turn around. “Is it like Wilson’s in Accounting?” Wilson had a low stage prostate cancer. Surgery and a round of minor grade treatments had done wonders on him. Scary as it was, he turned out fine.
The pause told him the answer before Carl spoke. “...’fraid not, buddy.”
He was going to have to turn around, Alan knew that. But he felt like if he could run away from the conversation it wouldn’t have happened. He turned about slowly, knuckles tight on his computer bag. “Is it bad?”
Carl was facing his door still, Alan could see his hand shaking. “N2, lung cancer.” He took a deep breath. There’s a T and an M, an R and maybe a G in there too.”
“Are you getting treatment?” If Carl needed to move into Alan’s place he knew he could. The apartment and living expenses weren’t a big deal in the face of treatment.
Carl turned around. When he finally met Alan’s eyes it was evident that he was terrified. “Al, there’s nothing they can do.”
novel_machinistStory: The Devil is a Gentleman
Theme: Literary / Octarine 8 Sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than curse the darkness.
Word Count: 271
Summary: Alan and Carl. Sadly, they both know how this is going to end
Rating: PG13
Warnings: mentions of cancer
Notes: And with this ends the backstory and the backlog I'd been slogging thru. Everything that I've kept with Gentlemen is out. From here on in, it'll be new material. And a change of course, but sadly, not a change of fates.
Maybe Carl knew it then, but his marriage wasn't meant to last. The prolonged pain of Anthony's sudden death and the reminders from each other were too much of a strain. Patti ran off with one of her law students. Carl moved into the apartment just across the hallway from Alan.
It had been weighing on Carl all day. The morning passed and they had been parting for the evening, hands on their doors when Carl said, very softly, into the door. “I have cancer, Al.”
Alan nearly dropped his bag. He couldn’t bring himself to turn around. “Is it like Wilson’s in Accounting?” Wilson had a low stage prostate cancer. Surgery and a round of minor grade treatments had done wonders on him. Scary as it was, he turned out fine.
The pause told him the answer before Carl spoke. “...’fraid not, buddy.”
He was going to have to turn around, Alan knew that. But he felt like if he could run away from the conversation it wouldn’t have happened. He turned about slowly, knuckles tight on his computer bag. “Is it bad?”
Carl was facing his door still, Alan could see his hand shaking. “N2, lung cancer.” He took a deep breath. There’s a T and an M, an R and maybe a G in there too.”
“Are you getting treatment?” If Carl needed to move into Alan’s place he knew he could. The apartment and living expenses weren’t a big deal in the face of treatment.
Carl turned around. When he finally met Alan’s eyes it was evident that he was terrified. “Al, there’s nothing they can do.”
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This smarted like the dickens to read, but I'd read it again any day.
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