[He thinks it started as headaches but he honestly isn't sure. It wasn't that unusual after Knifehead to wake up with his left shoulder aching, radiating up the side of his neck down to his fingers. Some mornings he'd spent nearly an hour trying to convince his left hand that it was real and working and intact. He knows for sure that those mornings have been coming more frequently for the past six months. It's been nearly three years since Pitfall. It doesn't make sense to blame the new aches and pains on that. He's probably just getting old.
It's nothing.
He knows that's a lie when the nosebleeds start.
He almost doesn't go to the doctor because he isn't stupid. He did pay attention to what happens to the human body when it's around a nuclear powered robot. Raleigh doesn't need anyone to tell him what's happening. The only reason he goes is because he wants a timeline. How long does he have? How bad is it going to get?
He has probably less than a year and it's not going to be pretty.
He keeps quiet for almost a week after the appointment. It isn't that he's trying to hide it from her. Raleigh doesn't want to upset her. The exact moment that goes to shit is in the middle of dinner when she suddenly stops talking and is staring at him like he's a ghost. He doesn't get it for half a second, and then he realizes there's blood dripping from his nose and well--- shit.
Wiping at the blood with his napkin, he doesn't know what else to do or say except:] Mako...
[Mako has noticed something was wrong. It would be impossible not to. She's always been observant, but even more so with Raleigh. She spends some mornings massaging his shoulder until the tension eases, but for a while she's suspected that he's been hurting more than he lets on. It makes sense though, certainly. Only two rangers had ever piloted solo, and Mako grew up with a constant awareness of Sensei's scars, of the aches and pains that came from the massive neural overload he'd suffered through. Raleigh was no different. Some days were just better than others, and it isn't as if closing the Breach had been easy on either of them.
But when she sees the nosebleed, she knows, deep in her heart, what it means, and her hand covers her mouth automatically. Gipsy had been shielded—Mako had done it herself. They'd all taken Metharocin, yes, but it was supposed to be an extra preventative measure after the first Jaegers were recalled and shielded properly. It doesn't make any sense, she tells herself, but it doesn't matter. All she can think of is Tamsin, wasting away slowly, and Sensei, getting worse and worse until his sacrifice finished the job. For a long moment, she can't speak. Her name barely registers, and then she forces something out, voice nearly breaking.]
[He should have told her right away. He realizes that now. Hindsight is 20/20 like that. He should have realized when he woke up in pain more often then not, that something was wrong. Maybe it wouldn't have made one iota of difference because the damage is done, but you know what they say.
Ignorance is bliss.
Raleigh can't look at her, so he takes the time to make sure he got all of the blood before he speaks.]
Five days, at most. [Tossing the bloody napkin to the table, he lets out a long sigh.] I couldn't think of how to tell you.
[It's not as long as she'd feared, but still. If he's having nosebleeds, that means it's advanced, which means there might be nothing they can do. If he didn't tell her, she suspects that's exactly what it means. He's not even looking at her, and she's still struggling to process it. She lets out a shuddering breath, head dropping as her hands cover her face.]
[He knows how shitty cancer is to watch, and eventually lose someone to. His mom died of lung cancer. It's part of why he and Yancy signed up to be pilots. He doesn't want to put Mako through this but the doctor was pretty firm there was nothing to be done.
It's not like there's a lot of research into the cure for Jaegar induced cancer.
Raleigh slides out of his chair, coming around the table to kneel by her. Right there on the floor.]
[Mako isn't expecting him to kneel next to her like that, and she looks up. She needs to get it together—she's not the one who's sick, and she knows exactly what he's going to do. If she gets emotional about this, he's going to worry about her more than he does about himself. It takes her a moment of wrestling with herself, but she swallows against the ache of tears in her throat and reaches for his hands. It's a measure of control, even if her voice is shakier than she'd like it to be.]
[He's already more worried about herself than he is about what's happening to him. He doesn't think he's ready to die, or made his peace with it or whatever bullshit people sprout when they're given a life sentence. Raleigh just honestly stopped caring as much what happened to him after his brother died and the only person to draw him out of his head was Mako.
He hates the idea of her being alone, or being as withdrawn as he was.
Bringing her knuckles to his mouth, he presses his lips there for a moment.]
[She just stares at him, barely feeling the kiss, trying to process what he's saying. A year. That's nothing. Even Sensei had much, much longer than that.]
[He doesn't want to shrug, because that's careless and callous which he's not. He just.. doesn't know what anyone can do. He passed high school biology because he had to. If he can't wrap his hands around it, either to build or break it, it mostly goes over his head. That's fine.
He should've taken her with him, she would have known the right questions to ask.]
[Mako runs her thumb over his knuckles softly, trying to focus on the actionable parts of this. They can talk to other doctors. They can look at options. Over a decade has passed since Sensei was diagnosed—surely things have improved. But still, there are tears in her eyes and a horrific ache in her chest, and she can't shake either off.]
[Raleigh shakes his head a little, almost ashamed to admit it. He should have another one, because that's what people do when they want to fight it right? Or they take the news and they go home and continue smoking and keep it hidden until there really is nothing to do.
Like mother, like son, huh.
He squeezes her fingers a moment later and looks up at her for the first time in nearly a minute.]
Honestly? I just wanted to get the hell out of there.
[Mako untangles her fingers from his, then slides down off of the chair to wrap her arms around him, squeezing tight. It's a bit awkward, kneeling on the floor like this, but she has an irresistible urge to be close to him right now, and she doesn't care.]
I can make another one for you. We'll go together.
[Oh. That's nice. Raleigh curls around her like a spidermonkey, his head against her shoulder and a quiet sigh between them. It's better being close to her. The headache threatening to bloom behind his eyes, like it always does when he gets a nosebleed, feels a little more distant.]
I can call them. [But he does fully intend on bringing her with him this time.]
I don't want to leave you. I think talking about it would have made it more real.
[Mako takes in a shaky breath, willing her voice not to break, but it does anyway.]
I don't want you to go.
[She can't imagine it. In the grand scheme of things, these few years aren't much, but Raleigh is a part of her now. The thought of being without him is heartbreaking and unfathomable, and utterly unfair. Mako strokes his hair softly, combing through it with her fingers.]
Maybe they're wrong. Maybe there's a treatment they don't know about.
[He wonders which is worse-- to lose your partner, your co-pilot, your soulmate in one unexpected instant or to know it's coming and watch it happen slowly and probably painfully. And it seems like they're going to damn well find out, which just... sucks.
Mako shouldn't know what both feel like.
Raleigh leans his head into her hand, without even thinking about it. It's just habit. A natural reaction to her touch.]
Yeah. It's not like it's super common, right? Definitely need a second opinion.
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It's nothing.
He knows that's a lie when the nosebleeds start.
He almost doesn't go to the doctor because he isn't stupid. He did pay attention to what happens to the human body when it's around a nuclear powered robot. Raleigh doesn't need anyone to tell him what's happening. The only reason he goes is because he wants a timeline. How long does he have? How bad is it going to get?
He has probably less than a year and it's not going to be pretty.
He keeps quiet for almost a week after the appointment. It isn't that he's trying to hide it from her. Raleigh doesn't want to upset her. The exact moment that goes to shit is in the middle of dinner when she suddenly stops talking and is staring at him like he's a ghost. He doesn't get it for half a second, and then he realizes there's blood dripping from his nose and well--- shit.
Wiping at the blood with his napkin, he doesn't know what else to do or say except:] Mako...
no subject
But when she sees the nosebleed, she knows, deep in her heart, what it means, and her hand covers her mouth automatically. Gipsy had been shielded—Mako had done it herself. They'd all taken Metharocin, yes, but it was supposed to be an extra preventative measure after the first Jaegers were recalled and shielded properly. It doesn't make any sense, she tells herself, but it doesn't matter. All she can think of is Tamsin, wasting away slowly, and Sensei, getting worse and worse until his sacrifice finished the job. For a long moment, she can't speak. Her name barely registers, and then she forces something out, voice nearly breaking.]
How long have you known?
[Because he had to have known.]
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Ignorance is bliss.
Raleigh can't look at her, so he takes the time to make sure he got all of the blood before he speaks.]
Five days, at most. [Tossing the bloody napkin to the table, he lets out a long sigh.] I couldn't think of how to tell you.
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It's not like there's a lot of research into the cure for Jaegar induced cancer.
Raleigh slides out of his chair, coming around the table to kneel by her. Right there on the floor.]
I'm sorry.
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What did they doctors say?
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He hates the idea of her being alone, or being as withdrawn as he was.
Bringing her knuckles to his mouth, he presses his lips there for a moment.]
A year. Probably less.
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There's nothing they can do? Nothing at all?
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He should've taken her with him, she would have known the right questions to ask.]
I can get a second opinion? We can, I mean.
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Do you have another appointment?
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Like mother, like son, huh.
He squeezes her fingers a moment later and looks up at her for the first time in nearly a minute.]
Honestly? I just wanted to get the hell out of there.
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I can make another one for you. We'll go together.
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I can call them. [But he does fully intend on bringing her with him this time.]
I don't want to leave you. I think talking about it would have made it more real.
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I don't want you to go.
[She can't imagine it. In the grand scheme of things, these few years aren't much, but Raleigh is a part of her now. The thought of being without him is heartbreaking and unfathomable, and utterly unfair. Mako strokes his hair softly, combing through it with her fingers.]
Maybe they're wrong. Maybe there's a treatment they don't know about.
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Mako shouldn't know what both feel like.
Raleigh leans his head into her hand, without even thinking about it. It's just habit. A natural reaction to her touch.]
Yeah. It's not like it's super common, right? Definitely need a second opinion.