[Earth (Midgard)]
"It's as I've said, Mr. Hallock, indulging in such a poor habit as smoking will be your downfall."
Hallock in response looked up to the doctor. He noted the quiet gaze of weariness, recognized the still body language; this doctor in particular had been advising him to quit his poor habit for years now, but as always, he had ignored the well intentioned advice.
He had ended up being the only one to carry the torch for Celine after she had passed on, one light at a time, a trail of cigarette's in various stages of completion trailing to what now seemed to be his grave.
"Just tell it to me straight, Doc."
The doctor's expression quickly formed a scowl, his eyes disappointed in the man's utter lack of regard for himself. He had never been the same after that woman died—not to him or his best friend, and not even to himself.
Those cigarette's were a quiet eulogy that had lasted for years, and now they would end up signing his name on his own obituary for him.
"Congratulations, old Wisdom my friend. It seems you'll be joining her in the great beyond. You have officially developed lung cancer."
How odd.
He thought that he was prepared, but it still felt like a sock in the gut to hear the news. However, any distress that sprang from his survival instinct was swallowed up by a sense of serenity at hearing that it was finally the end of the line.
Honestly, he was impressed with himself—he had managed to last pretty long, considering how devastated he had felt after Celine's death.
'...I guess stuff like death doesn't really bother you much when you've lived with it for so long... there's nothing much left when your world's already gone...'
"...Is that so."
"...Do you wish to hear treatment options, or—"
"No." The resolute and firm answer halted his friend's mouth, his brow furrowing as the tired Wisdom leaned back in his chair, resting his head against the wall.
"No, I think I'll be well without the treatment options."
A small smile was on his lips, and the light that had flickered in his eyes for so long—as faint as the cigarette's he had forced himself to smoke—extinguished.
He had never seemed so at peace, and the doctor knew he would soon see another friend move on into the next life. He released a sigh, already aware of the grief that would be felt at the end of Wisdom Hallock; the man who had loved even the ghosts of the past, going as far as mimicking their actions and personalities to remember them.
Perhaps this was his curse.
He could never forget, only remember and mourn that which was lost.
As Hallock walked out of the doorway, towards the hospital's exit, the doctor knew this would be the last time he ever saw Wisdom Hallock alive and at least somewhat well.
"...Goodbye... old friend..."
The man walking to his demise had never seemed so happy....