Itās been a while since our characters have last seen each other. Send me āHowāve you been?ā and Iāll generate a number to see what has happened to my character in the time they were apart.
5. Diagnosed with aĀ terminal illnessĀ
Probably the most obvious of Deanās physical alterations was the weight loss. He wasnāt scrawny, but was just about - and his hair was shorter, an implication that heād had to shave it, or that it had fallen out, but was steadily on its way to reaching his original - and preferred - length.
But he doubted heād last that long. The doctors had long since decided he wasnāt fit for chemo, and had decided heād be left to wait it out. By it, he knew they meant death as opposed to recovery, but honestly, he couldnāt bring himself to care anymore. He just wished his hospital bed would come readily equipped with a gun. Or maybe that, despite it being a decision no capable doctor would ever make, they send him home. Then, heād be able to take care of himself. Thereād be no waiting.
Heād just stumbled out of another coughing fit when she entered the room, and if the cancer hadnāt already stolen his breath away, sheād snatch it up.
Jo Harvelle, her excellency - looking just as beautiful as he remembered her. With the light pouring in from the window, she looked like an angel - but Dean had always doubted the odds of his acceptance into Heaven, and so he dismissed the hope that swelled in his chest, that maybe heād died without realizing.
Her hair wasnāt misshapen as his was, though he noted it seemed shorter. She wasnāt deathly pale like him - she lacked the sunken eyes and the hollow cheeks, and for that, Dean was grateful. Heād suffer another lifetimeās worth of lung cancer if it meant she wouldnāt have to - which hopefully, she wouldnāt. Ā
He wanted to leap out of bed and envelop her in his arms, but he knew heād long since lost the ability. So his head just rose a bit from his pillow, and his eyes followed her every step.
Her question caught him off-guard only for the fact that heād always thought Jo was exceptionally intelligent, and her greeting of āhowāve you beenā simply wasnāt. It was soft spoken and thoughtful, but what was he to say?
Ā Ā Ā ā - ām -- holdinā up.ā
That was a lie, but he doubted she couldnāt tell. Jo was a smart girl.
Ā Ā Ā āWhatāre you doinā here ā doll face?ā
His sentences were slow and labored. He couldnāt just gather up the breath for a set of sentences - it was hard enough managing a couple of words.
