Chapter Text
Nic writhes on the sticky vinyl waiting room chair, as excruciating pain rockets up and down her spine, tinny Muzak playing above her head, and wonders how the hell she got here. From a friendly game of touch football at the park, to an OB/GYN"s office, surrounded by pregnant ladies.
"How much longer, Jess," she groans.
"Hang in there. Sadie"s squeezing us in between patients. She"s nice, you"ll like her. She"s also a lesbian." Jess tilts her head. "Sadie Cartwright, do you know her?"
Does Jess have any straight friends? "Yeah, she"s my ex," says Nic, mocking.
Jess"s eyes fly wide, jaw dropping to the floor.
Nic knits her brow. "I was making fun of you, Jess, are you seriously that-" She winces, hissing a breath. "Sorry. The pain is making me bitchier. Fucking hell."
"I hadn"t noticed a difference," Jess deadpans. Her eyes soften. "I"m sorry I tackled you so hard, Nic. Schmidt making fun of my athletic abilities got me all riled up and I just-" She punches a fist in the air. "I took you down. I don"t know my own strength, sometimes."
"It was the angle," Nic mumbles, feeling a bit insecure.
This feeling is not improved by Sadie, a tall, stunning woman who declares that Nic looks exactly like her ex Felicia- how ironic- then proceeds to poke and prod with a pragmatic bedside manner, noting her surprise that "Little Ol" Jess" did so much damage. Sadie unofficially diagnoses Nic with a bruised spine and tells her to avoid any heavy lifting or strenuous activity for two or three weeks.
"Better tell Julia to take it easy on ya," says Jess, giving Nic a wink. She turns to Sadie. "Julia is Nic"s lover."
"Don"t call her that," says Nic through gritted teeth.
Sadie smirks. "Yeah. You"ll want to avoid strenuous sex for at least a week." She considers. "A lot of positions will still work. Like, if you"re laying down, and-"
Nic squeezes her eyes shut. "Can I have some pain meds, now?"
As she gulps them down, a very different look comes over Sadie"s face. She tells Nic to take another sip of water, and watches her swallow again. Nic flinches as Sadie"s fingers press hard on her neck, feeling around.
"It"s fine," Nic insists. Sadie and Jess are both giving her distinctly not-fine looks. "It"s just my neck lump. It"s harmless."
Sadie relaxes. "Oh, so you"ve had it checked out."
Nic laughs. "No, "course not."
No one else is laughing. Jess stares at Nic in naked horror and disapproval. Nic looks away. It"s obvious that Jess has never not had health insurance in her life. She knows nothing of the tried-and-true combination of hope, Vick"s Vapo Rub, and good old-fashioned "ignoring it until it goes away or you get used to it" that"s been passed down through the Miller family for generations.
Then Sadie is talking about ultrasounds and Jess remains eerily quiet. Nic wishes she would crack a dorky joke or say something, anything normal. Anything to soothe the yawning pit of anxiety in Nic"s stomach.
Nic leaves the clinic with a bottle of pain pills, a ticking bomb in her throat, and a silent, stoic Jess.
How the hell did she get here?
+ + +
Jess starts to come back over brunch, at a diner close by the loft. She does a terrible Daffy Duck impression that makes Nic feel a little better, and a little worse. Especially since Jess follows it up with, "You"re going to that ultrasound," in a tone that brooks no argument.
Nic mops up her egg yolk with a piece of bacon, and frowns as she chews. It"s not like Jess to order people around. Jess is usually a very tolerant, non-confrontational person. She can be cunning, almost manipulative, even, in getting other people to do what she wants them to do, but she"s rarely so straightforward about it. Nic is not a fan.
Jess scrapes the bottom of her yogurt parfait. "Well, one silver lining. When you tell Julia, you might get some nice consolation sex." She winces. "That was bad. Sorry."
Nic sips her coffee. She thinks about the lump every time she swallows, now. It sucks. "I"m not telling Julia."
Jess furrows her brow. "Nic." There"s that disapproving look again. "You"ve been dating for almost a month."
"We"re not in a relationship. Why would I tell her I"m getting an ultrasound?"
"Because it"s not just an ultrasound," Jess argues, prickly. She brings her voice down, to a soft plea, "Let her be there for you."
The words settle in Nic"s stomach like a bunch of rocks. She shakes her head. "That"s asking too much."
"When I first started dating Spencer, he had to take his elderly cat to be euthanized. I went with him, and I held his hand while he cried." Jess pauses. "We had been on two dates."
Nic scoffs. "Did you give him consolation sex?"
Jess nods seriously. "I did. And it was really nice, just saying. I went all out."
"But that"s you, Jess," Nic says with a laugh. "You do things for other people that normal people would not do. Julia isn"t like that. And that"s fine. I"m not gonna ask that of her."
Jess is quiet for a long moment. "What if the worst is true, Nic?" Her voice cracks a little, but to her credit she doesn"t cry. "Would you tell her?"
Nic thinks about it. Truthfully, she would just break up with Julia, and not even mention the stupid lump. She"d give some other standard break-up excuse. Because if she told Julia about a diagnosis, and Julia ended things right there... It would be understandable. Julia would be fully justified in doing that. But Nic knows herself, and she knows she wouldn"t be able to take it. Better to be the one to call it. Leave before she can get left.
"Let"s not talk hypotheticals," she says gruffly, and stands up. She goes to pay for their food, because if she is gonna die, at least she can say she bought Jess breakfast, once.
+ + +
Nic goes to work.
What would be the point of calling out? So she can wallow in dread at home all night? She might as well wallow at work, and get paid while doing it. She"ll need the cash to pay for this damn ultrasound, anyway.
Jess told Schmidt and Winona, and all three of them have been parked at the bar for pretty much her entire shift, staring at her with melancholy eyes. Nic ignores them for the first three hours. Glares at them for the next three. When that doesn"t work, she tries to be light about the whole thing.
"I"m fine, you guys," she laughs, a little forced. "Wouldja quit looking at me like that?"
"Nic, have I ever told you how beautiful your eyes are?" Schmidt says, without a trace of irony. "Dark and knowing, like rich soil. Holds all the secrets of the earth."
"Schmidt, if you don"t shut up, I"m gonna make you pay your tab. I"m dead serious."
Schmidt sucks in a choked breath, and covers her mouth with a hand. Winona rubs Schmidt"s back, and shakes her head at Nic. "Poor choice of words. Have some respect."
"Some resp-" Nic leans on the bar, and gestures with a blade-like hand. "This is my problem, okay? My problem. And right now, you"re not helping." She goes back to light, shrugging her shoulders. "It"s probably nothing. I don"t even have any symptoms, so."
Jess reads off her phone. "Do you ever feel like your shirt collars are too tight?"
Nic hesitates. "Yeah."
"Do you ever have neck pain?"
Nic rolls her neck. "Yeah."
"Feel like your voice is hoarse?"
"I mean, in the morning, sometimes..." Nic frowns. "Jess, what are you reading?"
She hands the phone over. It"s open to a Mayo Clinic page about thyroid cancer. Jess was reading out the symptoms. Nic starts to scroll. She swallows hard. "That"s what would be... in my neck?"
The page says you can have it without showing any symptoms. It can spread to other parts of the body. Lungs, brain, liver.
Damn. Nic needs her liver.
"Well, fuck," she laughs wryly, and hands the phone back. She"s silent for a minute. "Um. You guys wanna stick around and help me close?" This is code for "get drunk in the empty bar into the wee hours of the morning."
"I"ll text Cece," says Jess. "She should be here."
Might as well give her liver a proper sendoff, Nic figures.
After 2 am, the bar becomes even more depressing than it usually is. It takes on a certain eerie, liminal atmosphere. Nic feels warm and muzzy after like two drinks. Too late, she remembers she popped another couple of those pills right before close. It"s all hitting her, now. But at least her back doesn"t hurt. Nothing hurts, and nothing feels good, either. Just floaty and muffled. Nic looks around, at Schmidt talking to Cece over behind the bar, Winona plunking on the piano, then at Jess, sitting across the booth.
""Sthis what it"s like to be a lightweight?" Nic asks her. "God, I would save so much money."
Jess lifts a goofy smile from under her eyelashes, chin resting on the rim of her empty glass. "Hey, Nic. How do you follow Will Smith in the snow?"
"What?" Nic snorts, and starts laughing.
"No, wait." Jess bursts into giggles. She"s the real lightweight, and she"s been drinking since like 6. "Wait," she gasps for air, "I haven"t gotten to the punchline yet."
They"re both laughing too hard to talk, to even breathe, leaning over the table towards each other. Nic can still feel the dread- it"s more distant now, but no less oppressive, like thunder rolling miles off, growing louder between strikes. It only makes her laugh harder. It makes her think about how close laughter is to crying. The same tightness in the chest.
"Okay, okay." Jess finally gets her breath back. "Okay. I"m gonna start again. Don"t laugh this time. Until the end, I mean."
"Okay." Nic blows out all the air left in her lungs, and schools her lips tight. "Go."
Jess gives her a look, to make sure, then repeats, "How do you follow Will Smith in the snow?"
"I dunno, how?" says Nic dutifully.
"You look for the fresh prints." Jess"s smile stretches wide, expectant.
Nic cracks up all over again. Jess joins her, eyes all sparkly, so proud of her terrible joke.
When Nic is able to speak, she says through a grin, "You"re not allowed to talk at my funeral." She shakes her head. "I"m not kidding. You can be there, but you can"t talk."
"What?" Jess is caught at the tail end of a laugh, letting the air out, as her face falls. "Why not?"
"I can"t have you trying to cheer people up." Nic kind of meant it as a joke, but it stops being one suddenly, as something raw takes hold of her chest. She leans over the table. Shuts her eyes briefly to let the words come together. "You... you"re always being all jokey and cute and trying to lighten the mood. You don" know how to be real."
Jess blinks. She sinks back. "I know how to be real," she says, quiet.
"No, you don"t. You- you"d rather get out your," Nic gestures, "your Feelings Twig-"
"Feelings Stick," Jess mutters.
"-and be all diplomatic or whatever, instead of just, like, cussin" someone out. For a sample." Nic points to her own chest. "Last week, I ate your leftovers. Had your name on it. I thought it looked good. It was 2 am and no one was there to stop me, so I ate it. And you weren" even a little bit pissed. You laughed and you said," Nic screws up her face, remembering, "You said, next time you"d write "Science Experiment, Do Not Eat" and then Schmidt said that wouldn"t stop me, and y"know what, she"s prob"ly right."
"Okay," Jess bursts, jerking her head back, exasperated. "Yes. I was a little bit pissed. But I didn"t want to get mad at you." She pouts into her lap, and whines like a little kid, "I just want everyone to be happy."
"Well, life isn"t always happy, Jess." Nic is mad, now. "Life sucks. It"s terrible. And then you get fuckin"- cancer."
Jess looks up with something that"s too weak to be a glare. "Nic," she says hoarsely. Her eyes are bright and wet, full of unshed tears.
"Sorry I ate your leftovers," Nic mumbles, and gets up unsteadily, to go join Winona on the piano bench.
Winona composes a song for Nic, entitled ‘The Saddest Song in the World.’ Schmidt starts rapping- she"s so bad- and even Cece joins in. Cece"s got bars. Nic bobs her head, letting the music wash over her, and soothe her soul. This is what she needs. Not some weird drunken argument with Jess.
So of course, Jess has to come over and ruin it. "Nic Miller, Nic Miller, never does anything."
Winona thunks a discordant jumble of notes on the piano. Nic glares at Jess.
She"s not even trying to sing, or rap. She"s just talking, in the lilt of a playground taunt. "Nic Miller, Nic Miller, doesn"t have the stones to tell her not-girlfriend she might have cancer."
Winona rolls through a minor chord, having way too much fun with this.
Schmidt gives Nic an earnest, big-eyed look that she does not return. "You didn"t tell Julia?"
"What the fuck do you want from me, Jess?" Nic snaps.
"Nothing," Jess says calmly. "I think the real question is, what do you want? I mean, if we"re being "real," or whatever." There"s a bit of venom in her voice, her eyes. "Isn"t there something that you want to accomplish? You don"t wanna be in an actual relationship, you don"t wanna try at- anything, what do you want?"
"I"m not..." Nic needs to explain, so Jess can understand, and get off her ass. "I"ve never been the person to just dive into something, if I don"t know what"s gonna happen." She frowns. That"s not entirely true. "But I do things," she argues. "I want things, Jess, and I do things. All the time."
If only Jess had seen Nic chat up Julia, when they met. Nic did that. She got Julia"s number. They fucked on the first date. That was all Nic.
"Prove it, then." Jess crosses her arms. "Name a thing. One thing you"ve always wanted to do."
Nic considers. "I"ve always wanted to swim in the Pacific Ocean," she admits. "I"ve lived in LA for almost ten years and I"ve seen the ocean but I"ve never touched it, with my own hands." She shrugs. "I thought it"d be closer, but it"s pretty far from where we live."
"Okay, let"s go. You"re gonna go swim in the ocean. Touch it with your hands." Jess makes a "hurry up" motion. "C"mon."
"What, right now?" Nic wrinkles her nose. "It"ll be dark. And it"s a long drive. And it kinda smells bad there-"
Jess grabs Nic"s phone off the top of the piano and holds it up, menacing. "Either you go jump in the ocean, right now, or I call Julia and you have to tell her about the lump." Jess tilts her head. "What"s it gonna be, Nic?"
Nic is quiet for a moment. She gets up from the piano bench. "Okay, who"s good to drive? "Cause I"m not."
"I"m sober," says Cece. “Unfortunately.” She catches Winona"s keys.
"Shotgun," yells Schmidt, a bit overzealous. "Shotgun, called it."
+ + +
It is very dark when they arrive. So dark the ocean almost isn"t visible, except for shards of moonlight caught in the waves. It"s too dark to see the horizon line. The sky and the ocean are blurred together, one endless, shapeless void, moving and shifting in shades of grey and black, like static on an old TV set.
"Alright, Nic." Jess sweeps an arm to take in the beach. "Off you go."
Nic stares down the void. She swallows, and thinks about the lump. Jess is staring at her. "Fuck it," she mutters.
She sprints full-speed across the beach, because that"s the only way she"ll be able to pull this off, by gaining enough forward momentum that she can"t stop, can"t reconsider, can"t talk herself out of it. Her audience cheers her on from behind, their voices growing more distant. She peels off her shirt, then her undershirt, tossing them behind her as she runs, leaving only her binder. She unbuckles her belt and sheds her jeans, trips, gets up, kicks off her shoes. Keeps running. She"s on this stupid earth for who knows how long. The ocean doesn"t care about her body, or the lump in her neck. The ocean is so big.
"I"m alive!" Nic yells at it. Half a challenge and half a plea, hurled into the void, into this indifferent universe. "I"m alive!"
She charges into the water. It feels fine for the first half a second, long enough to get up to her waist. Then it"s fucking cold. "Never mind! Agh! I’ve made a mistake!" She turns right around, struggling to stomp back out. She trips and plunges into the water.
It"s a shock to the system, to her muscles. Like those ice baths that athletes do. Nic fights to stand back up, sputtering, and she staggers out of the ocean feeling heavier, more sober, and strangely reborn. She runs back over to her friends. Winona is holding her shirt, Schmidt has her pants and shoes.
"It"s so fucking cold," she reports, struggling to put her clothes back on while sopping wet. Jess and Cece are now aware that Nic wears patterned men"s boxer briefs that come in a pack at Walmart. These ones have pineapples wearing sunglasses on them. But it"s okay, because the ocean is so big, and Nic is so small, and who cares?
"What was the point of that, again?" Cece asks, yawning.
But Jess looks at Nic with a small, secret smile, and their weird argument from earlier dissolves like mist in the cold night air. "I"m proud of you, Nic," she says softly. "You did something."
Nic nods. "Would I do it again? No. But I did it. And that"s what matters."
"So, we’re just going home now?" Winona asks.
Everyone makes noncommittal sounds of agreement, but nobody moves toward the car. The ocean is so big, and heavy. Nic sits down, staring at it. The others spread themselves out across the sand. Schmidt and Cece sit near each other, talking quietly, their voices sucked away by the wind.
Jess sits down next to Nic. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I’m sorry I was mean to you. Earlier.” Jess traces a heart shape in the sand, knees tucked up to her chest.
Nic shakes her head. “You weren’t mean, Jess. You had shit to say, and I think you maybe had a point.”
Jess squints, and admits with a laugh, “I don’t exactly remember what I said.”
“Me neither,” Nic joins in. They soon fall quiet, and Nic stares out at the darkness. It pulses in a low, steady roar. It’s a living thing. She lets out a hard breath. “You know why I don’t do anything? The real reason?” She lowers her voice, with a scoff, “I’m scared. That’s it. I’m just a- big chicken.”
Jess is still tracing hearts in the sand, ear cocked to Nic’s voice. “What’re you scared of?”
“I dunno.” Nic shrugs, shaking off the heaviness of her confession. She kinda wishes she could take it back. But the ocean reminds her, she’s small, and her life is small, precious, and she’s gotta be the one to cup it in both hands and treat it that way. She recoils from that thought, a knee-jerk cringe. “Stupid,” she mutters to herself.
“It’s not.” Jess lifts her head, eyes caught in Nic’s, glittering. “It’s not stupid,” she says, with an urgency, an intensity that makes Nic’s chest tighten. Nic drops her gaze.
“Nic. Whatever happens tomorrow, I… I need to tell you something.”
Nic looks up. Jess hugs her knees, staring at Nic with an unreadable expression, lips parted. She lets out a breath. “I think I might be…”
Nic waits, patient. Jess keeps staring. Nic starts to feel strangely nervous, like this is too long to be looking into Jess’s eyes. Jess has powerful eyes. They reach all the way inside you and move shit around, unsettle you. Make you different than before.
“I mean-” Jess gives a firm little shake of her head. “I’m really glad I found that craigslist ad for the loft,” she finishes. “That’s all.”
“Oh.” Nic huffs a laugh, a bit confused. “Yeah.” She smiles. “Me, too.”
Jess gazes out at the ocean. She looks kind of sad. “We should probably get going,” she says, rubbing her legs.
“Yeah,” says Nic, but when Jess lays down on the sand to ‘rest her eyes’ a few minutes later, Nic doesn’t try to wake her, nor roust the rest of the group. She spends several minutes sitting up, watching over them, feeling protective and warm, like a wolf watching over their pack. She feels lucky. To have found these people, or maybe they found her, for however much time they’ve been given. She hopes she gets a little while longer. She’ll make the most of it, no matter what.
She doesn’t remember laying down next to Jess, lulled to sleep by the roar of the void.
+ + +
After her ultrasound, Nic shows up at Julia’s fancy high-rise apartment unannounced, high on adrenaline and sheer relief. Her back pain is a faint twinge, no match for the unbridled joy of knowing that she will not be dying, at least not of thyroid cancer, anytime soon.
Julia answers the door in her day-off attire, holding a memo pad, Bluetooth in her ear. She never really takes a day off, of course.
“Nic, what are you-” She doesn’t get a chance to finish, because Nic scoops her up and kisses her soundly. Julia makes a muffled sound of surprise, memo pad flapping to the floor. Nic pulls back, to take out Julia’s bluetooth, and kisses her again.
“Hi,” she chuckles. “Sorry.”
“Hi.” Julia blinks. “Hello. What is happening? Why do you smell like the pier?”
“Long story. Maybe I can use your shower?” Nic smiles, sliding her hands up and down Julia’s back, pulling her close. “And maybe you can come in, to help me with the knobs and everything? I always forget which is hot and cold, y’know.”
“Oh, the knobs, sure.” Julia nods, mocking, and Nic shuts her up with another kiss.
The shower takes a while. Nic’s had someone sit on her face, but never stand on her face before. They barely break apart to towel off, and Nic lifts Julia up by the waist, letting her wrap her legs around Nic, so they can keep kissing all the way to the bedroom, where Nic tosses Julia on the bed. Her back is gonna hurt later. She really doesn’t care. Julia is damp and naked and gorgeous, and Nic’s heart is pounding, and this feels like something, the beginning of something great, something she’s supposed to do.
Several hours later Nic is all sweaty again, flopping down next to Julia. She feels exhilarated.
“What did you put in your coffee this morning?” Julia breathes, with a lazy, sated smile. “Because I want some.”
Nic laughs, and it’s only a little bit forced. She’s still not going to tell Julia about what happened yesterday. It seems so trivial and anticlimactic, now. It’s just a lump again.
But she will do something else. Because she wants things, dammit, and she only gets one stupid life.
“Julia,” she starts, and gulps against the hesitation in her throat. She’s gotta gun it. Run straight for the water. “Will you be my girlfriend?”
Julia is quiet.
“I know we talked about not labeling it, and that’s what I wanted, too, but-” Nic props herself up on her elbow, turning to face Julia, even though this is terrifying and she feels like she might puke, because she wants to do it right. She wants to look Julia in the eyes, and not be a damn coward. “I really like you. I think this could be something. I wanna give it a real shot.”
Julia smiles, hesitant. “I really like you, too, Nic.” She bites her lip, and nods. “Okay.”
“Okay? Yeah?” Nic breaks into a grin. “We’re girlfriends? The gay kind?”
Julia snorts. “Yeah.”
“Yes,” Nic hisses, biting her lower lip, with a little fist pump. She looks at Julia. “Wait. I wanna hear you say it.”
Julia rolls her eyes. “We’re girlfriends, Nic,” she says flatly. “The gay kind.”
Nic grins, and pulls her into another kiss. Nic is alive, and she doesn’t have cancer, and now she has a girlfriend. A hot, smart, lawyer girlfriend.
She’s not gonna fuck this up.