All that I'm after is a life full of laughter,

As long as I'm laughing' with you.

I'm thinking' that all that still matters is love ever after,

After the life we've been through.

'Cause I know there's no life after you.

There's no life after you.

Life After You, Chris Daughtry

x

Jeremy's waiting. His foot taps against the cold linoleum floors, and he tries to get through his coursework for the week, but finds, as usual, that his mind is elsewhere. It has been a year, two months, and three weeks, exactly, since Tyler was diagnosed. Chemotherapy is brutal. Just hours and hours of throwing up and feeling crappy, that's all Jeremy remembers. There are no poetic words to explain it, and all the college English courses in the world couldn't make this into some beautiful learning experience. This hurt. This hurt and this wasn't going to stop hurting.

Jeremy runs his finger over the silver band that's been on his ring finger for six weeks. It doesn't make a difference to him; the marriage. He did because Tyler wanted it, and he'd give Tyler just about anything right now. He's losing sleep, (not nearly as much as Tyler), and he's afraid that the one person he's ever really loved will die. It turned out Tyler had been planning to ask him for awhile, but wasn't quite sure if either of them was old enough, or ready enough. The melanoma scared Tyler, but it would never make him do anything he didn't believe in. He was too strong for that. He'd arranged a short marriage ceremony in Boston, and they returned to their apartment in New York four days later. They honeymooned in France, and all Jeremy saw for two days was Tyler's naked body, and the ceiling.

They go back to New York, which is the only state in the U.S. that recognizes same sex marriage performed elsewhere. Jeremy had said they were lucky, and Tyler had fired back at him that a melanoma patient shouldn't have had to cross three states and back to be able to get married to the person he loved. Jeremy is surprised and a little taken aback that Tyler's actually yelling at him, but he apologizes almost immediately, for having had taken out his general anger at the world on him. Jeremy tells him it's no big deal, because it isn't. He wishes that things were back to the way they were before, where they actually had enough energy left to fight every once in awhile, but cancer was kicking their asses. At this point, he's just glad that Tyler's still alive.

"Hey Jeremy," Nurse McCoy says, wearing her usual bright pink scrubs and smile, "Tyler's back from his dose of chemo. You can go see him now, take him home in a few hours."

"Thanks. Room 242?"

"Yup. Need me to take you there?"

"No, thank you."

Stage five metastatic melanoma. That was what was killing Tyler. It's spread from his skin to his brain, and the tumor that's grown there is bound to kill him completely in the time to come. Nine to fifteen percent survival rate; Jeremy goes over the statistics as he steps into the cancer ward, walking by the other rooms. Everything smells like medicine and lemon polish. It's nauseating.

"Hey Ty," Jeremy says, kissing him before taking a seat on the cold metal chair by the hospital bed, "How do you feel?" he asks, running his fingers over Tyler's buzzed hair.

"Crappy. Better now," his says, his fingers finding Jeremy's, the cold silver of his ring sending a tremor down his spine.

"Any improvements?"

"Nope," Tyler says, popping the 'p' in the word, and leaning back against his pillow, both eyes on the ceiling. "I've got six months."

"What?" his voice breaks.

"They got a definitive read. Six months."

"I – no."

Tyler looks at him, "It's been a long time coming. You knew that, and I knew that. Listen, I've got enough money in the trust fund for you to cover the next year of college, and the apartment bills for another eight months after that, but you'll have to get a job. I'm sorry I can't do better."

"Stop it. Stop talking like – stop it. You just need to have some faith, Ty. We're going to make it."

"No, Jeremy. But you," he kisses the hand that is tightening around his own; "You'll have a good life."

"How much morphine did they put you on?"

"I'm not anesthetized, Jer. I'm being rational. You should start to follow suit."

Jeremy scoffs. "You're right, I should just accept the fact that that the love of my life is dying with a smile."

"Jer -,"

"Don't 'Jer' me! We had plans. We had a lot of stupid plans that we would never had followed through with, but they were there. We had a choice. I left Mystic Falls because I wanted to be where you were. What am I supposed to do? Go back? Stay here and try and start dating again? No. No, that's crap, Tyler. It's absolute crap."

He sighs, before turning his head toward Jeremy, "It's going to be hard. Isn't it always hard? You can't just stay down for the count Jer, not when you have a choice. And you do. And I want you to get over me, and I want you to fall in love again, and go through with all your stupid plans."

Jeremy laughs, but it's cold, filled with sheer bitterness. "No."

"Jeremy."

"I said, no, Ty. That's what you want me to start thinking about? What I'm going to do with my life when you die? When will you get it through your head that there is no life after you?" Tyler starts to open his mouth, "No. You don't get to talk. I love you. I love you. I married you, and all those dreams and plans – they were only special, because we were going to go through them together. Like always. I've had your back since we were teenagers, Ty. I'm not leaving. I'm not going anywhere, and if you think otherwise, then that tumor is really fucking you up."

"I'm going to die. It's not a choice, Jeremy. Live or die? How much I want to live isn't going to change anything. How much I love you? It doesn't matter."

"You still have choices."

"The operation is too risky, Jer. I want this. This, you and me, for the next six months."

"When you have the option to have this for the next forty years?"

"I might die. I have a what – ten percent survival rate? No. No way, Jer. It's my life. It's my call."

"No it's not. Because you are my life – you're my life too."

"Jeremy -,"

He gets up and leaves, and he despite realizing that he is being irrational and yes – it is Tyler's life. But that fact doesn't stop him from breaking into tears in the hospital bathroom.

x

When Jeremy gets back to their apartment, it's beyond late. Tyler's still up, lying on their bed, reading the newspaper; he looks up at the bedraggled form of his husband. They both look like crap, and there's no need to explain why.

Jeremy gives him a single, tired, glance before he starts to take off his jacket.

"I'll do it," Tyler says, putting down the paper.

"Huh?" Jeremy says, wiping at the remnants of dried tears, as he pulls his jeans off, replacing them with pajama bottoms.

"I'll take the fucking surgery. That's what you wanted right? I'll do it."

Jeremy stops, sighs, and picks at the sleeves of his grey sweater before kneeling by the bed so he's face to face with Tyler. "Ty – no. It's your choice. I'm sorry about earlier. I was just…it was so sudden. I expected more time, is all. If you wanna…if you," he lets out a heavy breath, unable to say any word resembling 'die', he repeats himself, "It's your choice."

"No it's not. It's your choice too, Jer. I don't wanna die in six months and leave you bitter and thinking that somehow this is your fault for not being able to convince me – I can't leave you with that. I'm doing the surgery. I called up Dr. Harold and he did a check-up. It's scheduled for two weeks from now.

Jeremy's breath falters, "You're doing it for me, aren't you?"

Tyler stares at the floor for a moment. "I'm doing it for us. Because I would damn well like to love you for more than six months, and because I know your punk ass would be lost without me."

Jeremy kisses him, hand securing his face to his own. "I love you, I love you Tyler."

"But," Tyler interjects, turning away from him, "If something goes -," his voice catches, "If something goes wrong – I need for you to promise me that you will move on. Promise me you won't do anything stupid."

"I promise." He's a liar.

They have sex for the first time in over a month, and it's all euphoria and freckles, and afterwards Tyler just watches Jeremy sleep, and realizes it's the first time he's slept soundly for months. "I love you."

x

It's the day of the operation. Live or die. This is it. Jeremy feels a lump forming in his throat as he drives to the hospital. Tyler's been there the last few days, and had insisted he went home and got a good night's sleep. He went home, but he spent most of his night trying to resist the urge to flip through photo albums while listening to Greatest Love Songs of All Time and sobbing.

There's traffic and he's almost afraid he won't get there on time – and he doesn't. He's got five minutes to say everything he can before Tyler goes under. He runs into his room, and apologizes hurriedly.

"It's fine. It's New York, Jer. If we haven't gotten used to the traffic by -,"

"Stop. I don't wanna talk about traffic, Ty."

He sits up, his eyes struggling to keep open, "What do you wanna talk about?"

Jeremy opens his mouth and stares. "I don't – I don't know what to say anymore. I mean, I had things I planned to say but it's all – I can't remember any of them."

Tyler's fingers snake through Jeremy's, intertwining. "There's nothing you can tell me that I don't already know. We love each other."

Jeremy nods, and bites his lip to keep from crying.

"Is there something I should know?" Tyler asks him. His voice is tired, scratchy like old vinyl records.

"That time I told you that I didn't have any homework, the night before the 4th of July, in my freshmen year? I lied. I just wanted to get laid, and I knew you wouldn't let up on it if I did."

Tyler laughs, his other hand caressing Jeremy's opposite cheek. "You're a complete nympho." Then he leans forward, and Jeremy follows suit. Their hands find each other's faces, and their lips are caught on each other's and everything is okay again for a moment.

For a moment. Before a man in blue scrubs tells him that it's time for Tyler to go under, and he has to let go of his hand. And he can't breathe anymore.

x

Jeremy's in the waiting room, trying to keep it together. Doctor Beck informs him that he'll send out interns to inform him of anything that comes up during the surgery, and that he should just hang tight for the time being. He tries to read through the latest New York Times but finds it hard to care about the ever-sinking Dow Jones when the love of his life is getting his head carved into.

He looks up, casually, and then looks back down at the newspaper, and then looks back up abruptly. He could've sworn that he'd just seen someone who resembled – but there was no way. He shook his head, and looked back down at the black and white print.

"Jeremy."

A tremor runs down his spine, and he doesn't need to look up to know who it is. "Ms. Lockwood?"

She takes the seat next to him. "Hello, Jeremy."

His eyes meet hers, searching, "What are you – how did you -," he trails off, unable to finish the sentence, his eyebrows arched high.

"Tyler called me a few days ago. He told me about the surgery and he said he'd like it if someone was here with you."

Jeremy stared at her. She'd aged well, almost as if she hadn't aged at all. Noting the silence, she pulls out her purse, and digs into one of the many sleeves to pull out a picture of them. Tyler and Jeremy. It was ripped from one of those photo-booth type photos. Tyler was smiling widely, his eyes downcast, Jeremy's lips pressed against his cheek. "I wish you guys would've given me more credit. I really would've loved to help you."

He ignores, eyes fixated on the tarnished photo. "Where did you get this?"

"Jenna found them. She has the other two. Seems like you haven't spoken to your family in years. They miss you."

"I didn't want to see them. I thought that Mr. Lockwood and you were intent on keeping Tyler cut off?"

"Tyler's father may have felt that way, but I have, and I always will love my son."

"What about Mayor Lockwood?"

"Oh, honey, he didn't tell you, did he?"

"What? He didn't tell me what?"

"It's no big deal," she says in a rush when she sees the hint of panic in his eyes, "Richard and I divorced less than six months after you and Tyler left Mystic Falls. Tyler's been in contact with me since."

Jeremy's stunned. "Why?" is all he can muster.

"Because I - looked at this picture," she has a sad smile on his face, "He's never been that happy with anyone else. I love you for loving him Jeremy, regardless of your gender."

"I don't want to lose him," and Jeremy feels close to tears.

"Neither do I, honey," she says, squeezing his shoulder. "It's going to be okay."

x

Tyler's out of surgery. They don't know when he's going to wake up but they know that he will wake up. Jeremy sleeps by his side, on an uncomfortable hospital chair, restless. His eyes move frantically under delicate eyelids, and when Tyler does wake, he just stares at them for a good half hour before Jeremy wakes up too.

"Tyler," the word comes out strangled, like it's been caught in his throat for the last few days. "Tyler," he says his name again, and it is accompanied by a series of wracking sobs.

"Hey, don't – don't cry, shhh, it's okay. It's all okay now."

Jeremy kisses him, his fingers running along the top of Tyler's buzzed hair, inhaling his sweet scent.

"So, what's the first thing on that list of stupid dreams we had?"

Jeremy laughs, "I think it's 'shut the fuck up and kiss me'."

"I can arrange that."

And Jeremy can breathe again.

x

Why did I ever doubt you?

You know I would die here without you

x

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long to get up on FF. Thank you guys for the support.