fuddforthreeeee

[fuddforthreeeee]

The Confession

azzi fudd x sick!reader

summary: Azzi has a confession to make to you, but she can’t bring herself to say it until she sees you lying in a hospital bed.

warnings: cancer, vomiting, mention of needles, the l word

wc: 2.2k

a/n: yay! my first post! hopefully y’all like it. if anyone has any suggestions for future fics I’ll write Pazzi or Azzi x Reader. idk about smut yet tho. anywho enjoy!

—————————

It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

No.

Azzi wanted it to happen over dinner at a nice restaurant or while walking down a hiking trail along a river.

It was supposed to be romantic; picture perfect.

Instead, she told you she was in love with you in a cold, bright hospital room.

But as it turned out, she would be okay with that.

——————————

Azzi clocked that something was off right away. When the team returned for summer session, something was off. Particularly with you.

You weren't as lively as you once were and you kept to yourself much more than you had in the past. Azzi grew weary.

The first sign she noticed was that you'd disappear for a few days every two weeks. She had no clue as to where, you'd turn your location off so no one would know, but she could tell that it was something important. Every time you'd return with a little less life in your eyes.

Then came the fatigue. It started small. At first you were breathing heavier after workouts. After some time you were barely able to keep up. And now you weren't able to make it through warm ups with out huffing and puffing. Geno actually forced you to sit you out quite a few days because of this.

And it wasn't just during practice. You'd go back to your dorm and just sleep. All day. You never went out. You were always just laying in bed, asleep or trying to be. Azzi tried to get you out of bed, but you didn't seem to budge, always with an excuse. You claimed you didn't get enough sleep the night before or you needed rest after practice. And in truth you were tired, but not for the reasons you gave.

Next: nausea. She noticed it first early into the second week when she heard gagging noises coming from the bathroom. Azzi tried to enter the room to help you, but you didn't let her in. You told her it was just a common flu and that you'd be fine.

But it wasn't a common flu and you weren't fine. The "flu" had lasted for over a month now. You tried to hide it, but Azzi noticed anyway. She was watching you and when Azzi focused hard enough, nothing slipped past her.

Last and perhaps the biggest indicator the something was seriously wrong was the chunks of wet hair she'd find in the trash. It was alarming for two reasons: the implications and the fact that you tried to hide it from her, from the team.

She confronted you about it a couple days later. You were in your room, lying down like usual and trying to get some sleep, but you and Azzi both knew sleep wasn't coming.

"Hey y/n." Azzi entered, not bothering to knock or ask if it was okay to come in.

You turned, a little grumpy and very sore, ready to snap at her and force her to leave. But the words got caught in your throat as you took note of the tears welling in her eyes and the tired look she was wearing. "Az. What's wrong?" You sat up abruptly, despite the screaming of your muscles.

Azzi sniffled. She didn't say anything, just came across the room and hugged you. It was tighter than usual, almost as if she was clinging onto you like you might disappear. And then she cried. Not aggressively. No shaking or loud sobs occurred. It was just a series of silent tears.

That's when you knew. She figured it out. "Azzi..." You breathed, trying to get her attention.

Azzi looked up, her big brown eyes full of sadness, a sight that made you begin to tear up yourself. "You have cancer, don't you?" Azzi rasped, wiping at her face.

You nodded, bitting your lip to keep yourself in check. "Yeah. Breast cancer.”

Azzi inhaled sharply, trying to rein herself back in. A moment passed where neither of you said anything. The two of you just held onto each other, each in your own heads.

Then Azzi finally spoke up, "You didn't tell us. You didn't tell me." Her words came out soft, but nonetheless emotional, and her bottom lip began to wobble once more. It broke you all over again and only made the guilt sink deeper.

"It wasn't you." You spoke quick, wanting to clear it up before she got into her head too much, “It was a me thing. I told myself I was protecting you all, saving you more pain. In reality, I was just too afraid to face the truth. I didn't want to give up life. Telling you all would mean things would change. I wouldn't be able to play basketball and you would all treat me differently. I didn't want that." You admitted.

Azzi nodded, trying to understand, but still hurt. It took her a moment before she could respond. "Basketball is not more important than your chance of survival Y/n." Azzi finally muttered, almost as if she wasn't sure she should say it. "Yeah, it sucks having to give it up for a while, but it's necessary in order to be treated properly." Azzi reasoned, much firmer now.

You looked down at your hands, feeling too much shame to look into her eyes. "I know. I'm sorry. It was stupid of me to think I could have both."

"It wasn't stupid. It's a human reaction. It's okay to want both." Azzi clarified. "But it's not what is best for you now."

You nod, having confidence to look back up at her. "This is so unfair Az." You mumbled, tears falling down your cheeks. It wasn't until this point that you fully processed what was happening to you and now that you were all the floodgates were opening.

Azzi didn't hesitate to hug you again, letting you rest your head in the crook of her neck, not caring in the slightest that you were getting part of her shirt wet.

She didn't say anything, just rubbed you back and held you, taking in some of your pain and trying not to cry herself. Earlier she had been so wrapped up in how she felt about the situation, that she forgot to keep in mind how you felt about it all. Now she was trying to do her best to make up for that.

You sat there for a while, in the sticky July heat of the dorm room. It grew silent after an hour and eventually your breathing slowed and your eyes drooped. Azzi noticed, spinning you both so you could lay down.

She kissed your head, letting you sprawl across her body. Her hands found the small of your back and held you there until you drifted off.

—————————

For the next few months she hardly left your side.

She was there when you finally confessed to Geno the true reason for your doctors visits and your struggle during workouts. He scolded you, yelling something about not hiding medical information from the team ya-da-ya-da. Azzi held your hand the whole way through it, thumb moving in circles on your palm.

She was there when you told the team. She ultimately had to be the one to break the news because you started sobbing before you could finish. The reaction was just as you predicted: a few tears, a few looks of pity, and a whole lot of condolences and hugs.

She was there at all of your appointments. Azzi drove you back and forth from every one and sat in your hospital room for almost the entirety of the two days that your chemo was administered. She’d whisper about how brave you were every time the needle hurt a little too much or you were puking into the garbages.

She was there when you finally shaved your head. She cut slowly, letting you adjust to the new look. When it was finally done Azzi ran her fingers over your head lightly. She kept muttering sweet nothings into your ears, telling you how beautiful you looked and assuring you that it would grow back quickly when treatment was over.

She was there to help you announce it to the world. The UConn media team posted that you would not be returning to the court for the upcoming season for medical reasons, fans had a lot of questions. To help clarify, Azzi snapped a photo of you in the hospital bed during one of your treatments while you were eating and, with your permission, posted it to her Instagram story with the words “the strongest woman I know 💗💗.” You reposted it to your story an hour later with a simple ❤️. Soon dozens more people were pouring in their love.

She was there to check up on you during games. When she subbed out or there was a small break during a timeout of during halftime she’d ask how you were doing or give you a small hug. Azzi knew how it felt to sit out and watch others play the game you loved, so she tried to make your experience as positive as possible.

And she was there when your initial treatment came to an end and they gave you the options for moving forward. 1: more chemo. 2: radiation therapy. 3: surgery. You knew the best option was the later, but you hesitated to make the decision. You didn’t want to undergo the surgery because it would mean removing part of your identity as a woman.

Azzi knew the internal war you were fighting before you even had a chance to tell her. She knew you wouldn’t be able to come to the decision on your own, so she gave you the final push.

“Y/n, you should do the surgery.” She said the night before you’d have to finalize your decision. She said it firmly, as if it was a demand, not a suggestion.

Your head snapped to hers, startled by her words. “I don’t know Azzi. I…I can’t just…”

Azzi gave you a sympathetic look as you stumbled over the words. “I know. I know.” She quieted you, caressing your cheek gently. “But your best chance of being cancer free.” She reminded you.

She looked down at your chest, covered by the thin UConn t-shirt you had on. Slowly, she reached out, resting her palms over the covered area, sending sparks throughout both of your bodies. “These don’t make you more or less a woman than you already are. Removing them won’t change anything.” She assured.

“Okay.” You mumbled, “I’ll get the surgery.”

Azzi was yet again there for your surgery. She held you as you cried the night before and the morning of. She walked with you as you were wheeled to surgery. And she was the first face she saw when you woke up.

“Hey.” She smiled, “You’re cancer free!” She said it so soft and so full of care that you burst into tears. You wished you could blame it on the drugs running through your system, but you couldn’t. You were just so overwhelmed that you couldn’t handle it. You had done it. It was finally over. But at the same time, you had lost a part of yourself in the process.

Azzi’s arms found you, holding tightly as if she was born to. “I’m so proud of you Y/n.” She kissed your head, tears of her own joining yours.

“I did it.” You whispered, voice scratchy.

“You did.” Azzi beamed, pulling you gently away from her so she could look at you. “You did.”

A laugh escaped you, one of disbelief. “Oh my god.”

Azzi’s hand moved down to your neck, rubbing there, and the other gripped you jaw. The two of you sat there for a moment, tears rolling down your cheeks, staring into each others eyes. Azzi’s were full of something you couldn’t place. Joy was there, that was certain, but there was another emotion you weren’t sure of. Anxiety maybe?

You didn’t have much time to process it before Azzi was ringing through your ears. “Y/n…”

“…yea?”

And then Azzi said it. The words she had been dreaming about saying for over a year now but was too afraid to actual say. Azzi finally confessed to her best friend, the girl she was terribly afraid of loosing, “I’m in love with you.”

“You-you are?” You stuttered, shook.

Azzi nodded, hesitantly, anxiety creeping into her features. She wasn’t sure what you were thinking. Was this going to make their friendship awkward now? Had she fucked everything up?

But instantly a grin appeared on your lips. “I love you too Azzi.”

And then the two of you were leaning in, lips meeting for the first time in a mess of tears, joy, and relief, in the middle of a cold, bright hospital room. The end of one journey and the start of another.

You and Azzi wouldn’t have had it any other way.