A Final Year

Chapter 1 ~ News of Two Varieties

~Madelief~
But tomorrow is my birthday, my last it seems. I walked out of the doctor’s office not feeling much of anything. I was numb and all I could think was, there is no time to plan a grand FINAL birthday party by tomorrow.

I unlocked my car and sat in the driver’s seat really wishing I had taken my best friend Skye’s offer to drive me today. I just sat behind the wheel staring blankly ahead. It wasn’t safe for me to drive, not yet.

I don’t know exactly how long I sat there staring off into the distance, but I was suddenly roused by the sound of my cell playing On Top Of The World by Imagine Dragons. My stomach clenched with nervous tension. That song only plays when my boyfriend of two years, Tom Hiddleston, is on the other end.

I let it keep ringing while I debated the best way to tell him my awful news. Should I wait and tell him in person or just spit it out and hope that his day isn’t completely ruined. As the song drew to a close I finally answered “Hey,” I said breezily, trying to sound like nothing was wrong.

“Guess what!” his excited voice washed over me and gave me the strength to hold on.

“What?” I asked smoothly, I was proud of how cool I was playing this, “Steven finally give you a part on one of his masterpieces?”

I was met with silence before, “How on Earth did you know?”

“Shut up,” I chuckled grimly, “he did not.”

“Mads,” he whispered, “I’m the next Doctor.”

I was so happy for him, I really was, but after this day, after the news I had just gotten I couldn’t seem to express how happy I was for him. He sounded so excited and all I could think was, I’m so proud of you, but I’ll never get to see it. Then I felt a large sob building in my chest, I forced it down as best I could, but…

~Tom~
A loud gut-wrenching sob rang out from the other end of the line. Mads was crying, but why? I was expecting her to be so happy, she is the one who pushed me into pursuing the role of The Doctor, but the sound she had made was not a happy one. No, this sob was an agonizing mix of overwhelming pain and sadness.

“Mads?” I ventured, “What is wrong sweetheart?” There was no answer so I urged, “Tell me, please.”

I was at the airport picking up my bags so I could surprise my beautiful girlfriend of two years for her birthday. I was still waiting for her to answer my question.

Finally she whimpered a soft, “I can’t tell you over the phone. When are you coming home?” She sounded so broken that I couldn’t keep up the ruse of surprise any longer.

“I’ve already landed Mads, I’m on my way to get in a cab as we speak.”

“Have it bring you to the doctor’s office, then you can drive me home,” she sniffled.

Now I was truly concerned, “Babe, your appointment was at nine this morning, it is now five in the evening. Why are you still at the doctor’s?”

When she answered her voice was barely there, “I…I couldn’t make myself drive. I believe it is unsafe for me to drive like this.”

I smiled just a little, that’s my girl, ever the pragmatist. “I shall be there in ten minutes dear, stay put.”

As the cab pulled up I saw my dear Mads sitting in the driver’s seat of her beloved black Chevrolet Camaro convertible. She got it after she sold her first script to a big studio in Hollywood. I paid the driver and quickly went to her. There were tears all over her face and she was slumped over. As soon as I opened the door she collapsed in my arms.

“Shh, shh,” I soothed, running a hand up and down her back. As she began to settle I pulled back slightly and asked, “Would you like to tell me now, or shall we go home first?”

“Take me home,” came her small voice in reply.

I gently tugged her from the car and brought her to the other side so she could slip into the passenger seat. After I had buckled her seatbelt and closed her door I put my bags in the backseat and got behind the wheel.

The thirty-minute drive back to our home was silent. I held one of her hands in mine the whole way. At a particularly long wait as a train passed I noticed she was shivering. I couldn’t tell how much was fear and how much was her just being cold. I pulled the blanket she always kept in the backseat out and covered her with it. Her breathing settled into smooth deep breaths nearly instantly.

She had been fatigued for a few months now. She wasn’t concerned, simply said her schedule had been crazy and she was making up for all the lost sleep now, but I had still been concerned. She had been paler than usual and losing weight faster than was healthy even though she was eating more to try and compensate. In the last three weeks she was in near constant pain and would bruise with the lightest of touches. I had finally convinced her to go in to see a doctor to figure out what was wrong. The first doctor hadn’t been able to pinpoint what was wrong so he had sent her to the specialist that she had seen today. It seems she got her answer and whatever it was, it was far worse than expected.

As I pulled the car into our garage my darling Madelief stirred from her brief slumber. I got out and walked over to lift her from the car. I cradled her in my arms and walked straight into our bedroom and laid her on the bed. I crawled in behind her and covered us with the blankets.

I held her close in my arms and whispered into her ear, “What did the doctor say?”

~Mads~
I took a deep breath to steady myself before stuttering out, “C-cancer. Leukemia to be exact. St-stage four, most likely terminal.” The tears were running down my face again.

Tom stiffened behind me, tightening his arms a bit more with each word that fell from my lips. I needed him to say something, but her remained silent. My brain was running wild with fear, fear that he would hate me for not going in sooner, fear that he wouldn’t be able to handle my illness, fear that he would leave and I would be on my own again. I knew he loved me and I loved him, but he is so busy and I didn’t want to take him from his work. He loved acting so much, and he was just offered the role of a lifetime! I knew I needed to give him an out; I wasn’t quite sure whether or not I was hoping he would take it.

“It’s okay Tom,” I murmured thickly, “I don’t expect you to stay. I wouldn’t take you away from your career or anything. I won’t make you watch what happens next.”

Tom grunted quietly and turned me to face him. There were tears streaming down his face too. “I love you, silly girl. I don’t care about anything more than you. I will call Steven and turn down the role and I will spend every moment of the time we have with you. I will call Luke and have him cancel every appearance and interview. I will not leave you alone in this.”

“No!” I cried, “You will do nothing of the sort! I will live if only to see you play The Doctor on TV. And I will spend every moment of your shooting on set with you because I can now use the dying excuse to work my way onto closed sets. Who knows, maybe I’ll even write a script and get to see you film it! YOU WILL NOT GIVE UP PLAYING THE DOCTOR!” I shouted the last part.

Tom smiled a small, sad smile, “Whatever you say my dear, but that does mean we will have to move to Wales,” he emphasized the last word in a bit of disgust.

“Stop being a snobby Londoner Thomas,” I scolded softly.

“What about treatment, what are your options?” He questioned softly.

“Well, the oncologist suggested trying radiation, but with as advanced as it is he didn’t hold out much hope that it would work. He said I probably only have six to eight months, tops.”

“Eight months,” Tom echoed, “We will have to find an oncologist in the UK so we can continue your care when we move. We will have to move to start shooting in about four months, at least that gives us time, no need to rush.”

I smiled softly, “Maybe we should just move now, you know, before I get too bad and can still enjoy looking for a house and decorating and all that.”

“I suppose that isn’t a bad idea,” He mused, “and we’ll have to get you a visa, they have them for couples planning on getting married, I think they last a year now. I’ll have to get a notary working on that.”

I giggled quietly, “Ever on top of the details dear,” I yawned loudly as my stomach grumbled.

“Why don’t you rest Mads, I’ll make us some dinner in bed. How does that sound?”

“As long as it is breakfast foods, I’m in. Those are the only thing you can truly enjoy whilst in bed,” I answered seriously, when in actuality I was just craving breakfast.

“As you wish,” Tom said before leaving the bed and making his way towards the kitchen.