#until my next round of chemo probably

[sassaffrassa]

Burning Down the House of Kallicertes - Moira's Pen x

[maliceandvice]

Hey there... Just saw you reblog a post with tags about being unhinged with grief and how you relate except the guy being talked to in the post is your cat... You doing ok? Do you need to talk at all? If not feel free to ignore this. It's just, I've lost very special pets before and that post was so extremely accurately evocative of the worst parts of grieving over a pet and I can't NOT offer to help...

Oh, it’s very sweet of you, I appreciate it, thank you. Yeah that post kind hit the nail on the head. Yes, I lost my little special guy, Sunshine, about a month ago. I haven’t really spoken about it here since I tend to keep this account separate and quieter from my more public social media, but I’ve found talking about it does help so I don’t mind sharing and talking about him.

I got him when he was about 6 and he was fiv+, so he sat in the shelter for 6 months because no one wanted an older sick cat. Also all his teeth went bad a few months after I got him because he’d been so neglected let, so he only had 3 and was the silliest, most pathetic little gummy bear. But he was perfect. My little buddy. The sweetest guy, just wanted a bff to hold him and give him head kisses. He loved new friends and would roll over for tummy rubs from everyone he met. Never bit or scratched. Loved rolling in sun puddles and licking water out of the bathtub like a little weirdo. He slept in my arms every day, went feral for sour cream, and would tuck himself under my arm to read or play Switch together.

In January 2022 he was diagnosed with large cell GI lymphoma. We did 6 months of chemo for it. Every Friday we’d brave the traffic on the LA 101 to go to the oncologist, I’d wait for hours in the vet’s parking lot for him to finish his treatment because I wasn’t allowed in with him because of COVID, and then we’d drive back together. He was a brave little champion through the entire thing; I genuinely think his bright, happy little personality helped him through it because he just didn’t know how to feel upset or bad! That first treatment worked perfectly though so it was worth it and he went into remission for about 9 months and he was great! Happiest little guy! But it came back this April and I knew we couldn’t possibly get that lucky twice. We still tried though. But yeah, he just never responded to this second round of chemo and he declined over the last few months. Even though I was braced for it for a really long time, it still went shockingly fast at the end. He was fine one week and then just faded so quickly the next and I knew we had to say goodbye.

One the one hand, I know getting 19 more months with an fiv+ cat with a terminal illness is amazing. It’s literally unheard of. It just doesn’t happen. He defied all his early prognosis, lived months and months beyond what’s typical, and didn’t start to show he was ill right until the end. So it’s near miraculous we got so much time, I’m so grateful to all the vets who looked after him, and I’m so proud of him for being so brave and strong to stay with me for so long. But on the other, we only had about 4 years together and he deserved so much more. I know he got several lifetimes worth of love in that timespan, but it still makes me upset that he didn’t get longer since he had such a hard life before I found him. We both got shortchanged.

I’m doing…pretty rough tbh. I think I’ve cried every day for over a month. I think between the pandemic and then the intense cancer treatment we basically super trauma bonded. And also he was just the perfect little guy for me, he slotted into my life so well. So it feels like all my happiness just got ripped out of my chest. The little constant and reliable source of brightness and love in my life is just gone. I know they’re all special and perfect, but he really, really was and I know I’m never going to be able to replace that kind of bond. So I’m pretty much a huge mess.

But I’m honestly probably doing about as well as I can be. I had a long time to mentally prepare and find pet grief resources, I’m very self aware, I’ve reached out for help when I’ve needed it, and I sort of just know that like…this is what it is. It’s an inevitably and it’s the saddest I’ve ever been in my life and there’s nothing that will make it feel better and I’m probably gonna be sad about him forever so you just gotta go straight through it. You just keep goin forward in small steps, even if you’re crying the entire way.

[thisisnotreallife]

The Cancer Journals, Part XIV:

How to Help a Loved One (or Stranger!)

This week, I start the final drug for my endocrine therapy cocktail. I found out on Friday that the drug, ribociclib, causes hair loss—and that I can’t eat any grapefruit or pomegranate for the entire time I’m taking it, which we expect to be five years.

So.

So today I made a grapefruit cake, and I’ve been chugging my favorite grapefruit bubbly water while I can.

I plan to get myself a paloma before I’m no longer allowed and have a grapefruit for breakfast each morning until I start the medication, too.

Honestly, I feel compelled to ask a medical professional if I need to wait for the grapefruit to flush out of my system before I start the ribo Rx, I’ve had so much of it…

It’s a good thing it’s not pomegranate season!

The grapefruit & pomegranate moratorium is—unfortunately—a hard and fast no. The fruits have something in them (an enzyme, I believe the oral chemotherapy nurse said) that binds to something in the drug, making it difficult for the body to process it properly and leading to a build-up, which can ultimately cause things like liver toxicity.

I let myself be bummed out for about a day and a half, and then I had to admit that having a zero-tolerance policy on grapefruit and pomegranate for the next five years is better than both liver toxicity and a breast cancer recurrence.

So, we take the ribociclib.

And we look forward to a grapefruit and a pomegranate party in five years.

Anyway, as promised, I wanted to wrap up this chapter of my cancer meander not with a grand statement on having and undergoing treatment for breast cancer, but rather with a more practical piece of writing.

When people get sick, or when people experience a death or similar world-shifting event that shakes their foundation, friends and family are quick to tell the afflicted to let them know how they can help.

It’s a wonderful offer—well-intentioned and usually quite genuine.

But the thing is, people who are struggling aren’t thinking clearly about when to ask for help, or whom to ask, or for what.

They just feel overwhelmed—by the illness or the loss and the way that the world just keeps on turning and the bills show up in the mailbox and the fridge keeps getting empty even though they keep going to the store and getting food over and over again and the laundry and the dishes pile up and they still have to get their work done. And shower, too!

So.

So, I thought I would pull together a list of the ways that Patrick and I were supported by our loved ones since we first shared my diagnosis last summer.

If you’re reading this, you likely show up somewhere in the list below, though I didn’t include specific names.

So, thank you for that. Of course. 🫶🏻

My oldest sister and her family came over for a ½ day just before my first round of chemo and knocked out a massive list of things I’d written up that Patrick and I hadn’t been able to get around to around the house since my diagnosis five weeks earlier.

·      My other sister sent soup and mac and cheese and chocolate chip cookies for Patrick and me to have the weekend after my first round of chemo.

·      My colleagues and boss sent fresh groceries delivered to our home just before round 3 of chemo.

·      Local friends brought us a homemade meal of carnitas just after the first round of chemo.

·      Another friend made our Meal Train site for us, which allowed folks to send donations or sign up to send food.

·      My sister signed us up for a meal kit delivery service that we were able to turn on and off based on our needs.

·      My sister also set up a GoFundMe, which allowed people to donate directly to us. We were able to use these funds on medical costs not covered by health insurance (I was spending probably $200 extra a month on supplements my oncology team wanted me on based on my bloodwork and best practices for cancer patients!) and for takeout when I didn’t know what I wanted to eat until I needed to eat immediately after chemo rounds.

·      My sisters also helped with administrative tasks that I delegated to them when I just couldn’t do it myself and didn’t want to burden Patrick on top of him caring for me and working, both full-time—like when I needed an immediate and highly effective birth control method as soon as possible after my diagnosis so that I didn’t get pregnant before cancer treatment started, and my oldest sister called Planned Parenthood to schedule the appointment on my behalf.

·      My mother-in-law asked her friends—most of whom are strangers to me—to send me birthday cards before my birthday in September. Some of them continued to send them on through the holidays, too. One included a drawing by a little 5-year-old girl who wanted to send her love; it is currently on the fridge (obviously).

·      My boss sent a seatbelt pillow for the car before my port surgery, before I even realized I’d need it.

·      A friend sent a Tupperware of homemade cookies and a book of poems along with a sweet card that I have framed.  

·      Another friend sent me a care package before my first chemo round and included items that showed she had done research on what might be helpful for a breast cancer patient, like scar cream and wooden utensils in case metal ones tasted gross post-chemo. So thoughtful!

·      Another friend whom I got to see just after my port surgery gave me a little totem that we call Whimsy Frog, who traveled with me to every chemo round I had to go through.

·      My sister brought me rocks she gathered and polished from shorelines and riverbanks around the Pacific Northwest whenever she visited, and I carried them with me in my pockets and have them placed around my house, for luck.

·      A friend sent the most beautiful and healing care package, filled with the crystal that I took with me to each round of radiation, a necklace she had worn herself through many trials she walked through, and a clear glass frog that now sits in our living room.

·      Another friend sent a cozy scarf and a pack of socks with a cat on them and some tea and sweet little bookmarks to cheer me up and keep me comfortable after my last round of chemo.  

·      Another friend who was diagnosed with the same kind of breast cancer five years ago sent me a sweet coffee mug and a cozy blanket and some “Fuck cancer” cat socks.

·      The mother of a friend of ours from graduate school whom we lived with in Seattle a decade ago sent “comfort pillows” specifically designed by a breast cancer survivor she knows who runs a nonprofit providing support for breast cancer survivors and patients in the western Massachusetts area, along with several other sweet items.

·      My sister found and sent the most perfect post-mastectomy support kit that included pillows and drainage bags and other sweet and thoughtful items that made the days following my mastectomy much, much easier.

·      One of my mother-in-law’s friends, also a breast cancer survivor, sent a hand-crocheted prayer shawl and two hats she made for me, along with a book of letters written to women with breast cancer that she said brought her much comfort during her own cancer meander. We’ve never met, but she was so caring and thoughtful.

·      Another friend sent me an email that meant so much I printed it off and stuck it above my desk so that I would see it every day.

·      My oldest niece watched TikTok and YouTube videos so she would be able to help me put on my wigs. She also bought me some of the cutest hats I’ve ever seen.

·      Anonymous little treats also came in the mail from time to time, from “Suck it, Cancer!” chapsticks that I have stashed all around the house for use to a 2lb bag of coffee beans.

·      I received many beautiful flowers deliveries from friends and family after diagnosis, following my first chemo and my last chemo and in-between rounds “just because,” and post-surgery. Flowers were always, always appreciated.

·      My sister sent a basket of living plants after my mastectomy, and it felt so wonderful to come home to alive things.

·      Online support in the form of likes and comments was always also so appreciated. It might sound cheesy, I know, but each one meant a lot to me and each one still does.  

·      One of my sisters came to stay with us a few days after my mastectomy. It was nice for Patrick to not have to stop what he was doing every time I needed a glass of water or a snack, since I could ask my sister for her help, too.

·      When my sister visited after my mastectomy, her best friend drove down from Seattle and stayed here for a couple nights, too. She had done some research on the best foods for post-surgical recovery and made a protein-packed loaf of banana bread and a protein-packed chicken sausage and tortellini and vegetable soup that we survived on for a few days. Before she left, she and my sister cleaned our house for us and did our laundry. What?! If you don’t live nearby and can’t travel to help a loved one in person, if you can afford to set up a laundry service for pick up and drop off or a cleaning service to come regularly to take care of basic housekeeping and occasional deep cleaning needs, those services would be incredibly helpful during a time of need.

I’m sure that I’ve forgotten something. We received so many wonderful gifts and acts of kindness and support that I couldn’t possibly list every one of the wonderful things that friends and family did for us.

What helped Patrick and I the most over the last six months was people taking the time to send a message of support or to do some research to figure out how they could help in other ways. It was people following through on those offers for help in tangible ways—and in intangible ways, too. It was not having to say “we need some help,” because—of course, absolutely—anyone dealing with cancer does. Always.

In any case, the point is, I’m compiling all of these acts of love and care in the hopes that the next time one of your loved ones receives a scary diagnosis or loses a loved one or otherwise needs your love and support, you don’t need to ask how to help.

I hope that, instead, you can show up—unannounced or with due warning, depending on your relationship—with a homemade, nutritionally-appropriate meal and do a load of laundry.

Or send a bouquet of flowers and a pair of cozy socks.

Or a message of love and encouragement or commiseration that your friend or sister or nephew can hold in their heart when things feel especially tough.

[kcfights]

Round One : FIGHT!

Chemo round 1 of 12 is a go!

JR woke up not feeling great, and we decided that he should probably rest up rather than come with me and be in a space filled with chemo patients.

Fortunately, I had several neighbors on-deck for a drop off plan, and Shaylee made the time to not only bring me, but to stay with me for my first round.

With Panera bagels in hand, we got there ahead of schedule to begin the check in process.

An hour or so before arriving, I put lidocaine over my port site and cover it with saran wrap to numb the area. After you check in at the center, you get called back to the Infusion area so they can access the port, and any needed blood draws. Next, you check in with the Doctor, who reviews your labs, and gives the go-ahead to proceed with infusion. Then it's on to the main event!

Several rounds of prep-solutions infuse before the chemo - steroids, anti nausea drugs, steroids, etc.

Those take 90 minutes or so, before we get to the FOL and OX of Folfox. I had just finished my chicken noodle soup and grilled cheese (courtesy of Panera, Shaylee delivery, and JR funding) when we started this bit. The Oxaliplatin makes you immediately sensitive to anything cold, including beverages. I wasn't sure if I was reacting to the cold, or something else, but we paused infusion and did a round of IV Benadryl. That fixed the problem, and resulted in this:

Naps are beautiful. So was the warmed blanket, until I got too hot.

Once that was done, we finished up with the 5-FU push (a loaded syringe delivered over 3 minutes) and hooked me up to my pump, and I was done!

All in all, it was a restful, pleasant experience, with a few moments of discovering what is "normal"for me. I came home feeling well! The trickiest part is learning how to work around the belt bag that holds my little bulb of chemo... because there is a tube connecting me to the bag. I can safely say my natural "grace" has not changed in all of this, so it is an adjustment😂

So, I got naps, Panera, friend hang-out time, and did I mention naps?

Round 1 done!

Thanks to Shaylee - who had also undergone chemo, and knew all the tricks and ins and outs!

And what better way to end the day than with celebratory Ramen?! Thanks, JR, for grabbing me my favorite!!

I go back Friday to return the pump, and get on to days 4-14!

Thanks for checking in, friends!

[maraeffect]

me: haha yeah this whole situation sucks but i'm gonna be fine (:

also me: hears the first 5 seconds of misguided ghosts and can't quit crying bc oh my god look at my life rn (:::::::

[chilly-me-softly]

It's okay until it's not • Ben Chilwell

Sadness brings sad fic. Be aware there's mention of cancer, even if not explicitly the fiction goes around that topic so I'll understand if you don't want to read it. As always though I hope you like it x

She met Ben when her life needed a change, something powerful that would make her feel emotions that she hadn't been allowed to feel until then. He was one of the few people in her new life who knew her story, who had not treated her differently. One of the few, if not the only one, to whom she had shown her medical record. Everything related to one deleterious disease.

Everything was going in the right direction. She had a job, hobbies, a boyfriend, her social life was quite satisfying and her tests were always within the norm. Everything was fine until it wasn't.

She finds herself in his house when she can't pretend anymore, her legs give out and if it weren't for Ben she would also have a nice bruise to remind her of what happened for the next few days. Ben is worried sick, makes her lie on the couch and checks on her every three seconds even though she has been alert since practically the moment afterwards.

She promises him that she'll go and get some tests to make him feel more relaxed, that it's probably just because she hasn't been eating properly in those days. Because the lecture about eating properly is more bearable than admitting that this is not the first time this has happened to her lately. That there could be more to it.

But in the end she goes for a check-up anyway, her doctor immediately books her all the necessary tests once she explains what is happening to her. They are tense days, almost grateful that Ben is out half of them so she can hide behind some texts.

The test results come back not as she expected, her doctor filling her head with data and statistics and treatments and dates that she can't give proper attention to. She takes her time, the doctor talks about timing. She tells Ben  in the end it was just iron deficiency.

"I need to talk to you" Ben understands instantly this is serious, she has been looking at him for hours as if to gather courage to speak but each time she just stands there staring at him. But she has made a decision and it's only fair that he also learns about the situation, to take his due precautions.

"I lied to you. About my test results"

"It's back isn't it?" a tear escapes her control and he tries to wrap his arms around her to comfort her but she stops him, she knows she won't be able to get back on topic otherwise.

"No wait, I need to tell you some things first" he takes her hand, holding it tightly and thus showing her his closeness.

"It's back yes, and before you ask me what the next step will be-- I'm not going to have chemotherapy"

"What do you mean. Is there anything else you can try?" he asks, confusion clear on his face as he tries to take it all in.

"No, there isn't"

"There isn't or you don't want to?" the grip on her hand loses its power, the shock of even asking that question is too much.

"Ben, I don't want to undergo another round of treatment"

"Why?"

"Because it's already taken most of my life away from me and just now when I was getting it back... it's popping up again" her tone is bitter, almost dismissive that this is all happening again.

"No. No (y/n) you can't be serious" while his is incredulous as slowly it all starts to sink in, his wide eyes watching her while shaking his head.

"Ben please, I need you to understand"

"No! How can I?" and then anger, his coping mechanism after he finally understands and can't bring that thought back a second time. "You don't think about me? So I am nothing to you. Our relationship is not that important to you"

"Now you are selfish"

"Selfish, me? You're practically letting yourself die and I'm selfish?"

"You don't know what it's like - she snaps back at him, trying not to hold it against him - You weren't there before, everything I had to go through. The operations, the hospital, chemo, throwing up, all those side effects... it's easy to talk when you don't experience it first hand"

"You could do it. You could beat it again this time" but she is already shaking her head.

"And then what? What would I get out of it?"

"You'd get more time"

"How? And who would give me the assurance that I would be fine? Do you really want to live with the fear that it might come back at any moment exactly as it is now?" but he doesn't answer. "I'm tired Ben"

"So you're just informing me. You're not going to change your mind"

"No" she manages to reply, the lump in her throat signalling the coming of an impending cry that she has been trying to hold back for some time now.

And she doesn't hold back when Ben finally puts some distance between them. He needs time to process it all too, she couldn't hide it from him and knew that if she had left him he wouldn't have let her go so easily without fighting.

-

A couple of days later the doorbell rings echoing in the silence of her house, Ben at the door. His face is pale, his eyes sunken, a sign that he's not sleeping as he should and she's sorry to be the cause of it all because she wouldn't want this for him.

She lets him in, there's a bit of awkwardness between the two of them and there hadn't been on their first dates either. She doesn't want to assume his being there is to stay, she waits for him to speak but it's hard to put words in order.

"I've thought about it and I want to be there for you. If that's really your decision, I don't want to waste the remaining time arguing" she hugs him tightly reveling in his scent and his arms holding her tightly.

"That's what I want" she murmurs into the hug and he holds her even tighter to him, even though it hurts to hear that.

Over the next few months they try to act like they don't know about it, it's there in the corner of their heads ready to pop up again at any moment but they do everything they can to keep it from happening. They make it at parties as Ben watches her have fun and joins in, the smile on her lips the thing that makes him feel good the most. They make it when she wears his shirt and cheers for him, clumsily imitating in the dim light of their room an action of the game completely aroused and enraptured by the story, making him laugh until his stomach hurts.

He fails when he enters her house and finds her passed out on the kitchen floor.

"No no no no no (y/n) don't do this to me don't do this to me"

She knew that without treatment sooner or later the time would come when she would struggle more and more to recover. She fooled herself it would come as late as possible but with each passing day she realised something was changing, tiredness had started to take over her life now more times she dozed than she smiled.

"Hey" she quickly realised she's in a hospital bed. And she had always told him not to call for help, she knew if she went into that building she would hardly get out.

"You gave me quite a scare"

"I'm sorry" but she certainly can't scold him at that moment, when with just one look you can tell how scared he is. He is handsome though, she can't help but look at him and study him. "I had a dream about you"

"Yeah? What about it?"

"You'll be fine" it only takes a moment for his eyes to fill with tears.

[peterrparrkerr]

Hit mad falls in love with target - read on ao3

*-*

Peter waved frantically at Tony when he walked into the lab, eyes glued to a computer screen.

"Tony, quick! Look!" He demanded, nearly vibrating in his chair.

Tony made his way over, hands clasped behind his back as he leaned over Peter's shoulder.

"Isn't it awesome?" The young man asked, waving his hands around.

"What am I looking at?" Tony asked.

"Its cancer," Peter said. He points to different colored lines in the graph, all jagged and fluctuating. "This is breast cancer, and this one is pancreatic, skin, lung."

Tony hums as Peter continues to list each colored line as a different form of cancer.

"I was able to isolate the individual cells from everything else, and- look, look!"

Peter snatches Tony by the shirt sleeve and tugs him from one monitor to the one on the other side of the lab. He taps his fingers on the screen, bouncing on his heels.

"These are the cells after being treated with non-radioactive therapy," Peter said, looking up at Tony. "The number of cancer cells is cut in half within a week!"

Peter then drags Tony across the lab again, babbling excitedly as he does so. "Do you know what this means? This means we can start human testing! And we can market the treatment for practically nothing!"

He shows Tony a live feed of the treatment in action from a TV monitor.

"Think about the possibilities," Peter grinned. "Anyone can get treated, no matter their financial standing. And the treatment isn't as harmful as chemo or radiation. It doesn't attack the body as a whole, it isolates the cancer cells and leaves the rest of the body alone.

"No more hair loss or side effects. And we could cut remission in half too," Peter said. "Just think, this time next year, we could start selling to hospitals all over the world."

Tony smiles down at the younger man. He had known within the first day of meeting Peter that he wouldn't be able to follow through. He's glad he hadn't.

"Have you told anybody else?" He asks casually.

"Ned knows," Peter said. "And Bruce, but they were here when it happened."

"Where are they now?"

Peter gives Tony a wry smile, still too excited about his treatment working.

"I sent them home a couple hours ago," he said. "We've all been awake for almost three days, so I'm sure they've gone to bed already."

"You should be in bed too, don't you think?" Tony asked, raising an eyebrow.

Peter waves him off, shaking his head as he goes to his work desk. "I'll sleep later," he said, pulling his lab coat off and draping it over the chair.

He's dressed in his usual outfit; comfortable pants and a button up.

"Plus, I knew you'd make your rounds around this time, and I wanted to tell you," Peter said with a grin, grabbing his personal items.

That was part of Tony's cover. A janitor for the building Peter worked for. Hes wearing a navy blue jump suit, though he's left the cart out in the hallway.

"I'll walk you to your car," Tony hums, leading the way out. When he'd first started this, he'd offered his company to get closer to Peter -to find his vulnerabilities.

Now though, he does it because he's protecting the young scientist.

He'd skipped out with 45 thousand dollars paid to kill the boy, but as the days had gone on, and Peter had grown comfortable with him, Tony realized he couldn't steal him from the world.

Peter was incredible. He worked tirelessly to find a cure for cancer. He's already created a new insulin for diabetes that he's made available to everyone for only $10 a month -something not many other medical professionals liked.

Peter was making enemies left and right, and Tony decided to make it his job to keep him breathing. If not for the rest of his life, then for as long as it takes for the young scientist to see an end to cancer.

The boy wasn't getting much in terms of money for his creations. In fact, from what Tony's come to learn, the boy doesn't own a car, and rents an apartment with his aunt. 

He sees enough to live paycheck to paycheck and this new treatment won't do much to better his life, but he's not concerned with money. He wants to make Healthcare more effective and affordable.

Tony's got morals. Enough of them to know when a hit is a bad investment. That didn't stop him from taking his payment anyway.

The two make it to the car park. Its dark, the overhead lights buzzing annoyingly. Its empty, save for a couple cars belonging to a few of the security guards, and the car Peter shares with his aunt.

It's an older model, grey paint chipping and metal beneath rusting near the wheels. Peter talks animatedly beside him, lands flailing in front of him.

Tony glances around them, scowling as he takes in the familiar cement structure.

"Wait," Tony says, just as Peter's pulling the keys from his pocket. They're a couple feet away from the car, and the hairs on Tony's arms and neck stand on end.

"What is it?" Peter asked curiously, reaching for the door handle.

It's just as Peter grips the handle that Tony sees the wire connected to the metal lock on the other side of the glass.

Tony is quick to react, grabbing Peter by the arms and wrenching him away from the door.

Peter yelps in surprise, but its cut out by the sound of a small explosion. Tony braces for the blast of air that knocks the two off their feet, and grits his teeth at the heat that follows.

Peter's pressed against the cement, Tony weighing down on him. His ears ring, but he quickly gets to his feet, unzipping his jumpsuit and grabbing the .9 mm from the waistband of his jeans.

The car is ablaze, crackle-popping and sizzling. Its just the cab thats on fire, but Tony knows its only a matter of seconds before the flames reach the engine and the fuel line.

Tony looks around him, trying to find the culprit -though he knows from experience that the man won't be here.

He grabs Peter by the armpits and pulls him to his feet. Blood smears against his forehead and jaw. His hands and arms are scraped up and Tony can tell his knees are busted too, but it doesn't look like anything damaging.

"We gotta go," Tony urges, already half dragging the younger back towards the building.

"You-you have a gun," Peter gapes, stumbling after Tony, arm in the older's hard grip. "Why do you have a gun?"

Tony reaches the door for the stairwell.

"I'm a hired gun," Tony said, glancing up, then down, gun following his eyeline before pushing Peter towards the stairs going up.

"I thought you were a janitor," Peter gasped, climbing the stairs and swaying. Tony places his free hand on Peter's lower back.

"Thats just a front," Tony confessed. "We got to get you out of here."

"Someone blew up my car," Peter said, panting as they continue up to the first floor. "Aunt May is gonna kill me."

"Not if Buck doesn't kill you first," Tony grunted, pulling Peter out of the stairwell and into the main lobby.

Tony's car is around the side of the building, but its open to attack. Tony can't keep Peter trapped inside the building though, so he risks it.

Their feet slap loudly on the asphalt as they run for the nondescript black SUV Tony had taken to driving.

He checks around the vehicle, under and inside before issuing Peter into the back seat.

Tires screech as Tony peels out of the parking lot.

"What- whats happening? Tony, what- why do-"

"Someones trying to kill you, Peter," Tony said, blowing past the guard tower at the exit of the parking lot.

"But why?" Peter asked dumbly, voice slurring slightly as more blood turns the side of his face crimson.

"I'll answer all your questions when we're safe," Tony promised, eyes frantically shifting from the area ahead of him to the rear view mirror.

Peter must really be feeling the effects of his head slamming into the concrete, because he doesn't protest.

"Lay down," Tony orders, merging into traffic and slowing down. "Lay low until I say."

Peter does -Tony thinks mostly because of his head injury. Tony relaxes a little, knowing the scientist won't be gunned down in the back seat.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere safe," Tony answered, keeping an eye behind him.

He doesn't see a tail, but he takes a round-about way to his safe house, just outside of Queens.

When they get to the small cabin, Tony checks the building before helping Peter inside.

"I think I have a concussion," Peter mumbles, swaying on his feet as Tony guides him to the kitchen chair.

"I don't doubt it," Tony agrees, setting his gun down on the table beside Peter's elbow before grabbing the first aid kit.

He pulls another chair over in front of the young scientist and opens the red box.

"Let me see your hands," Tony orders. Peter does, palms up. Tony begins to clean them and his arms.

"Tony," Peter says, breaking the silence. Tony doesn't say anything. He reaches up to clean the blood from the side of Peter's cheek.

"Is your name actually Tony?"

Tony makes eye contact before nodding.

"And you're a hired gun?" Peter asks, slightly breathless. "Like, like a hitman?"

"Yes," Tony answers, reaching the cut on Peter's hairline. Peter winces, but doesn't pull away.

"You kill people for a living?"

"Yes."

It takes Peter a couple seconds, but it seems to hit him. Hes bolting to his feet, the chair clattering behind him.

Tony leans back into the chair, watching as Peter begins to pace.

"What- Tony, you have to tell me whats going on," Peter demands, hand on his head. Tony knows from experience that pacing tends to help the scientist expell excess energy.

"I will," Tony nods. Peter continues his pacing. Back and forth beside the kitchen counter.

"Why- why are people trying to kill me?" He demanded. "Who blew up my car?"

Tony sets the paper towels down on the table, knowing Peter won't sit still for him to properly tend to him.

"The one who blew up your car is another hitman," Tony said. "Goes by the name Winter Soldier."

"You called him Buck," Peter said, pointing an accusatory finger at Tony, eyes narrowed.

"I did," Tony nodded. "Hitmen tend to run in the same circles, though we don't always like each other. Bucky was probably hired to finish the job."

"Finish the job," Peter repeated dumbly. "I'm the job?"

Tony nods, once more letting Peter process. He knew Peter would figure it out without Tony's help. He was smart.

"Finish the job means someone already tried to- to kill me," Peter said, panting as he continued to pace. The wound at his hairline is bleeding sluggishly, dripping down his temple and towards his jaw.

Peter wipes at it without thought, smearing blood against his cheek. He pauses to look down at his hand, fingers glistening in red.

He touches his forehead again, as if remembering he's still injured, then turns to Tony, accusation and fear in his Bambi brown eyes.

"You," he said softly, in disbelief. "You were hired to kill me, weren't you."

"I was," Tony nodded.

"But you haven't," Peter said. Tony can practically see the gears turning behind his eyes. "And, and now whoever hired you hired the Winter Soldier."

Tony only nods. Peter takes a shuddering inhale and has to grip the counter with a bloody hand to stabilize himself.

"I'm- I'm- who- who would want to-to kill me?!"

"The payment was anonymous," Tony said. "Thats how it works. But whoever it is is threatened by you."

Peter looks at Tony incredulously. "Me? Why me? I'm the least threatening person -like- ever!"

"You've cost Big Pharma millions with your insulin," Tony said. "You've patented it, so they can't take it and upcharge the way they've been doing. And if your treatment for cancer is a success, you'd be costing them even more."

Peter takes a moment to process that before he nods. "Right, yeah. I knew I was going to make a lot of people mad about that, but. But I never expected anyone to actually try to kill me."

"Money is a powerful motive," Tony said, a little too much experience leaking into his tone.

Peter hears it, because he stops his pacing, shoulders dropping. Exhaustion seems to pull him towards the floor like an anvil tied to his spine.

He sways a little, and Tony's about to offer him the chair again, but he moves to it willingly. When he sits, their knees are barely touching, and he blinks dazedly at his bloody hand.

Tony grabs a clean rag and leans forward to clean up the blood from Peter's head. The younger lets him, still processing and no doubt sluggish from the concussion.

"Why didn't you?" Peter asked after Tony had taped gauze to his hairline. It was patchy and poorly done, but it would help.

"Why didn't I what," Tony hummed, using an alcoholic wet wipe to clean the remaining blood from Peter's hands. The boy winces at the burn to his scraped palms.

"Kill me," he said, swallowing thickly. "You had plenty of opportunity."

Tony sighed, setting the wipes down before leaning forward and looking Peter in the eye.

"Because I believe in the work you're doing," he said honestly. "And I'm going to make sure you finish it."

Peter blinks once, twice, before breaking eye contact and sighing, body eating to melt into the chair as the air leaves his lungs.

"Come on," Tony said, standing up and slipping the gun into the waistband of his pants. Then offering his hand. "This place is safe. Theres a bed you can sleep in."

"I shouldn't sleep with a concussion," Peter said weakly, taking Tony's offered hand anyway.

"Its mild, I'm sure you'll be fine," Tony mused, heading deeper into the cabin to the bedroom.

The bedroom isn't anything special. A twin bed in the corner, a four drawer dresser and a blackout curtain.

Peter climbs onto the bed, not bothering with the covers or taking his shoes off. Tony thinks its best he sleep with them on anyway, in case Bucky finds them.

Tony moves to leave, grabbing the handle, and Peter bolts upright again, eyes wide.

"You're okay," Tony promises. "I'll be right outside."

Peter gives the barest shake of his head. "Stay here, please," he says softly.

Tony nods, shutting the door and turning off the light before making his way to the side of the bed. Theres an old step stool there, and he sits down at the head of the bed.

Peter lays back down, body too tense to ever fall asleep. Tony keeps his ears attuned to any noise that could alert him to Bucky, or anyone else, gun sitting perfectly stop on his knee, finger off the trigger, but ready at a moments notice.

"Tony?"

"Yes, Peter."

Peter shuffles around, and Tony turns his head just in time to feel pillow soft lips connect with the corner of his mouth.

He can't help but smirk as Peter settles back down. "Thanks for not killing me."

Tony chuckles at that, leaning his head against the wall. "I may be a hitman, but I've got morals," he says into the dark room. "Besides, nobody likes cancer."

Peter laughs tiredly at that before reaching his hand out and grabbing Tony's. Their fingers interlock, and Tony doesn't really know which one of them initiated it.

"You're going to be okay," Tony continued. "I wont let anyone hurt you. You're safe with me."

"I know."

[tirsynni]

Current update: remission looks like a high possibility but my dad still has at least one more round of  chemo and it looks like, even if chemo can be achieved, he’ll have regular chemo appointments for the rest of his life. Everything is pretty stressful and scary but he is doing better. The plan is to come back in two weeks and we’ll see how everything goes.

My original plan was to make a final visit this fall and then not come back until spring due to the long drive, but that plan is probably going to have to change. Oof.

There is one benefit for him tonight and another next week. So far, everyone’s involvement has been high and enthusiastic but vaguely concerning considering the whole, oh, covid thing. Sigh.

[kazoo5480]

Emma wakes with Killian’s alarm, she rolls over, and kisses the underside of his jaw, he twitches, still deeply asleep. “Babe, wake up” she says smiling kissing up his neck. He groans, and rolls into her. “What time is it?” he asks yawning, 7, I have to go, work. See you for lunch?” He opens his eyes finally and takes her in, all sleep rumpled and gorgeous. Sighing “Aye, I’ll be by around 12” and she kisses him too quickly and stands to put on her clothes. “Love you” and runs out his door, and he lays there a minute, still waking up.

He sees the boxes stacked still in the corner and sighs. He pushes himself up, and into the shower, leaving Liam a note on the table, focusing on getting through the day. He grabs his skateboard and his backpack and heads out towards the gashouse and just focuses on moving and Emma, what he said to her last night and her so willingly accepting his words. It made him grin like an idiot, Liam might be leaving and starting his own adventure, but so was he. He still had his own adventure to seek, and school ahead, the fact that he was lucky enough to have Emma by his side was just the best kind of added bonus.  

Emma rushes inside and up to her room showering quickly and throwing her uniform on. Her mom stood on the precipice of her bedroom watching the whirlwind of her daughter as she raced around. “Is Killian alright Sunshine?” and Emma stopped and looked at her mom and nodded. “I’m sorry I didn’t expect to need to stay but I took one look at their life being boxed up, and he was so broken up mom. I can see his point of view, this was their first home after leaving their home, losing their mom, and with Liam leaving it is just a lot and he is processing, last night was just a bad night for him is all.” Ruth noticed the ring on her daughters right hand but didn’t say anything, if it were important, she would tell her, she always did.

Emma sat down her head in her hands and her mom sat next to her rubbing over her back, and Emma leaned into her mom. “He is lucky he has you Ems, and he has us, and we will all get through this all together. Maybe you could do something nice, rally the troops to help get his stuff moved, and I’ll even throw in for Pizza. I have Saturday off so I could help in the morning, unpack stuff while the guys do the heavy lofting and all that, see if Liam needs help too” and Emma smiled at her mom “that would be awesome, good idea” and she got up rolling her socks on and threw everything in her work duffle. “I gotta go, but I will see you later Mom” and she kissed her mom as Ruth called out to have a good day behind her.

Ruth sat there, and smiled, she raised really good kids, and though she missed her husband like mad sometimes, but she would wait a little longer to tell them, it was going to change a lot in their lives, and she didn’t want to add more on to their plates. Ruth had been seeing her oncologist weekly for months, treatment options were approaching, and Ruth sighed. Speaking aloud, “I’m not ready to leave them yet honey” she said to no one, and she quickly wiped the tears that began running down her cheeks. What she wasn’t aware of was her son standing in the doorway.

“Planning on going somewhere Ma?” and he looked at her taking in her sadness. Ruth was startled, and she looked at her son and the tears began falling quicker. “Come sit” she patted the spot next to her on Emma’s bed and David sat down, his hurt arm on the opposite side and he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Ma what is it?” he asked gently, and she sighed. “Breast Cancer” and David burst into tears tucking his face into his mother’s neck, hugging her as best as he could, and she held her boy, crying in her arms. “I just told your dad, I am not ready to leave yet, so that’s that” and David laughed a little as he sniffled, his tears still flowing. “How bad is it?” and she sighed, “I have options, chemotherapy, surgery. I chose to start Chemo next week, see how it goes” and David nodded.

“We will do everything mom, just tell me how to keep the family running” and she patted his cheek. “Well, I will need some help around the house, and the therapy makes you really sick, so I have been slowly building an arsenal of stuff I’m going to need, speaking with people in the treatment rooms while they go through it. I wanted to be prepared.” He nodded, “How long have you known?” “Six months. I found a lump and scheduled an appointment right away; we think we caught it early… but I am probably going to lose my hair” she said with a grim smile. David looked at her touching her soft blonde curls, so similar to Emma’s.

“Hair grows back, or we will find you some really amazing wigs, or you can totally rock a bald head” and she laughed and nodded. “The house will be fine, I have our savings, my pension with the hospital, we should be ok” and he nodded once. “Em and I will contribute everything we make to the savings; we should make a plan to tell her, and be ready with a plan, she always wants to see the long picture” and Ruth nodded. “We should make sure you both are on the bank account and the house deed.” David cut her off. “You aren’t going anywhere Ma” and she smiled, “Let’s just have a plan B, it would make me feel better” and he nodded.

“When do we tell Em?” he asked grimly, and she sighed, “I don’t know, but I think we should let Killian and her both get through the weekend, and then we will tell everyone. I have a feeling I am going to need each and every one of my kids to get us through this” and Dave nodded. “I’ll call a Sunday dinner, spread the word through Ruby, we never needed a reason before, so we should do it soon” and Ruth agreed. “I’ll make lasagna, and maybe a cake” and Dave looked at his mom, “It’s going to be ok Mom. I am not going anywhere, and me and Em, we can handle this, helping you. Our friends, they will be here too, you’re just going to have to be ok with people taking over to help you for a while, see how the treatment works, without fighting all of us” and she smiled. “How did I get so lucky to have two great kids?” and he smiled, “Because we have a great mom.” He held his mom a little longer until she got up and said she was going to get ready for work, and he nodded.

 He sat there for a while, staring out the window, and begged his dad to leave their mom with them, to not take her too. His heart was shattered, and he couldn’t tell a soul, that was his mom’s personal choice to tell people, and even though it killed him, he wouldn’t tell Emma, they would tell her together. He knew the police academy was the right choice, it would pay good, he could live here with his mom, make sure she was taken care of, Emma had another year of school so she would be around, and lord knows all their friends would band together to keep their matriarch in one piece. He just had to have hope that it would all be ok. He walked to the phone and dialed Red, she picked up immediately. “Hey Rubes, Ma is calling Sunday dinner, everyone, 5 o clock” and she agreed and said she would track everyone down, not even asking why.

He could do this, he could handle this, and Emma was strong like Ruth, they could handle it. As much as he hated to agree, they needed a Plan B, Breast Cancer wasn’t exactly new but when it was your own mother, he decided he should start reading. Since he was off today, he went downstairs, and his mom kissed him goodbye before her shift, and he headed toward the library, asking for every single book, journal, and article they had on Breast Cancer, Astrid the librarian looked at him and nodded with a curious expression but said she would grab what she had, and begin collecting everything over the next few days for him. He thanked her and began reading.

Emma and M were both on the same shift today, and they weren’t crazy busy, so they had some downtime to talk. Emma asked about swapping shifts so that she could be helping Killian Saturday and M agreed of course and said she would help him Sunday too. Zelena came out and tacked up the schedule, waving good morning, and it turns out both Saturday and Sunday Emma had the morning shifts, and would be off by 3, so M didn’t mind at all that she took her Saturday shift if Emma took her following Sunday afternoon shift for her, Emma agreed right away. They chitchatted, and a few cars came in, but by lunch they were starting to get packed. Emma was zipping around on her skates doling out orders for two hours straight, and Killian still hadn’t shown up. Maybe he was busy too she thought.

Ruby called a while later to Rae’s telling M that Ruth was calling for Sunday Dinner, and Dave had called Ruby to round them all up, Emma laughed, eating her grilled cheese as M talked to Ruby, she could have done that, but he was right, Ruby was like a one-woman telephone tree. Emma just assumed her mom wanted Killian to have support since Liam was leaving Friday, and now Elsa too. Emma told M to eat, and she was about to skate out as Killian walked in closer to 1. “Sorry, we were packed, and without Dave it was just me today” and she nodded and kissed him, “Sit, I will be right back” and skated out. Killian parked himself next to M and she was scarfing down her food. “You know no one is going to steal that from you M” and she laughed.

“Sorry, but we just had a huge rush, I am starving, you missed Emma inhaling her food a few minutes ago” and he smiled. “Eat, I am just placing a carry out, and she threw him her pad to write his order on. She got up and skated around the counter throwing it on the counter for the kitchen and tossed her plate into the dish bin. “It will be up in a few” and skated out, her brunette hair blowing out behind her. He shook his head, they worked really hard, and honestly, he was grateful because this obviously contributed to Emma’s outstanding legs. Speaking of which, she skated in and into his arms and he caught her. “Hi” she said, and he kissed her. “Do you want something?” and he told her he had a carry out coming. Emma told him Sunday dinner and he nodded, and “order up” came and Emma skated to grab his bag. “What time are you off again?” she asked, “Looks like later, 530 or so” and she nodded. “See you tonight?” and he nodded, Ill head over after I go home and shower. She nodded, “Love you” and he kissed her hard. “See you tonight” and she smiled as he walked out, food in hand. 

David closed the last book and popped a few journals and the legal pad he had taken copious notes on and headed towards the car. He looked at his watch, both Emma and his mom would be home soon, so he wanted to make sure dinner was ready and, on the table, when they both got in. Tonight, was going to be rough on them all, and he decided to swing by the gashouse on his way home. Spotting Killian, he waved with his good hand, “Hey, shouldn’t you be resting?” Jones said to him and he nodded, “I am. I need you to come to our house tonight, I know you are busy, but actually Liam and Elsa should come too for dinner.

 Killian nodded, “Ill track Liam down, what’s up? Em said Sunday dinner, but tonight?” And David sighed, “Can you make dinner? Or be there after dinner?” Killian looked nervous, “Dave” and put a hand on his good shoulder, and Dave shook his head. “Tonight?” And Killian nodded, “Emma?” “Is going to need you. But I gotta go” and he booked it out of there leaving a confused and very worried Killian in his wake. Killian lifted the phone dialing the docks, and got Liam to agree to dinner, said he would meet him there at 6, Elsa was working though, and Killian couldn’t tell him why because he honestly didn’t know, and by Emma’s demeanor today he would bet that she didn’t either.

After his shift he rushed home, and showered, changing, and throwing in clothes for good measure in case, and skated towards the Nolan’s like a fire was under his ass. Ruth walked in to find her son tossing a salad, and stir fry going on the stove. “Someone has been busy” she said to her son, as she looked over his notepad, and he snatched it out her hands. “I did some reading, wanted to be prepared” and Ruth hugged her son. “We are telling Emma tonight, I asked Killian and Liam to come over, no one else. But Emma is going to need the support, and with Liam leaving he has a right to know” and Ruth looked sad. “I didn’t want those boys to worry” and Dave nodded, but said “Ems going to need Killian just as much as I need M and you need all of us. We are a family, and I didn’t know if you wanted M to know or not yet, so I haven’t said a word to her, and didn’t ask her to come tonight.” Ruth nodded, “You should call her, I don’t want you keeping my secret from her” and he walked to the phone calling.

Ruth headed into her bedroom and changed into a floral sundress that she loved and combed her long hair back. She needed to be strong for her kids, for herself. She knew David was right, they needed to involve those closest to them first, and she headed into the kitchen to help her son with dinner, since they were expecting more people now. Dave banished her to the porch swing, and she hated being bossed around but she had to let her son come to terms with this, and if bossing people around and making her sit and read was punishment, she would be a glutton for it. Emma’s yellow bus rolled in and she hopped out, M with her, hearing her in the kitchen, and heard her daughters footsteps up the stairs. M and Dave came out to sit with her, and Emma came down a few moments later, her long blonde curls drying and a smile on her face. “Dave said dinner tonight, and Sunday. What’s going on?”

She watched her mom school her features, Emma did the same thing when she was upset or had a secret. Killian rolled up on his skateboard, and Emma was surprised but not, Killian looked nervous as he approached their porch and sat on an empty seat. M moved to an empty chair beside him, and Emma moved to the swing with her mom and Dave. Dave nodded at Ruth, and Emma’s mom clasped her hand and Dave��s good one.

“We asked you here because we have something to tell you, and because you two are the most important people in their lives, it’s going to take us all as a family to get through this, together” Ruth said swallowing. Dave produced a box of tissue from somewhere and handed one to his mom. “Mommy?” Emma said, and Ruth patted Emma’s cheek. “I’m sick Sunshine, Breast Cancer” and looked grim. Emma gasped, her lip trembled, and tears began to pour. She hugged her mom tightly, Killian and M held hands and they watched the three hold each other and cry, Killian now understanding why Dave wouldn’t tell him, it wasn’t his news to share.

Killian knelt in front of the three of them, pulling M with him and he rubbed Emma’s leg in reassurance, but she didn’t take her eyes off her mom. “Whatever you need, I’ll help” Killian said, and Ruth smiled at him. “Tell me everything” Emma said, and Ruth did, telling them all, and Dave chimed in with what he found at the library. M and Killian excused themselves to allow them privacy for a moment, and to go get dinner off the stove, and wrapped each other in a tight hug. “Ruth is tough, she will be ok” M said to Killian and he nodded, “it won’t be like it was with your mom Jones, if they caught it early enough…” and he gripped his friend tighter nodding. “Help me get this on the table” and he followed the small brunette around, lost in his thoughts.

Emma was reeling, “How long did you know” she nailed Dave with a glare. “Just this morning sunshine, don’t be mad at your brother, he caught me in a weak moment right after you left, and I just spilled it” she laughed lightly. “It isn’t funny” Emma said to her mom, and her mom wiped the tear tracks off her daughters cheeks. “I am going to be ok, treatment and maybe a surgery, but like I told your brother, I told dad this morning I wasn’t leaving and that’s that” and Emma nodded wanting to be alone. She got up off the porch, and walked around to the bus, grabbing her spare key, and backed out of the driveway and pulled out, her mom and brother looking confused, but she saw her mom pull Dave down as he tried to stand. “Emma” he yelled, and she took off, heading toward the beach.

Killian heard them call Emma’s name and saw the bus gone. He ran to the front steps, “Where did she go?” and Ruth sighed, “the place she always goes when she needs to be alone” and stood patting his cheek. “Come on, let’s get supper on the table, and start eating, is Liam coming?” and Killian nodded. “I should…” and Ruth looked at him, “Let her be, if she isn’t back before dark, you can go get her, drag her back. I expected this, Emma is like the wind, temperamental and strong, I knew she would need a moment to process it, and I am not going to deny her that and neither are any of you” and he nodded in understanding, wanting to support his love and hold her like she held him. He also knew when Emma took off, she needed it and meant it. Liam showed up a few moments later, and as they ate, Ruth told Liam who immediately knelt at her side crushing her in a hug. It was a very emotional dinner, and his thoughts were entirely on Emma as he sat there with her family processing this monumental news and wishing he could take her pain away and looking at her mother, their surrogate mother and wanting to take her illness away.

Emma threw her suit on, and grabbed her board, stalking down the pier, dropping her stuff in a pile and went into the water. The sun was orange and pink, and purples, the waves calm as she laid on her board looking at the sky, sobbing. She was furious at god, or whoever was out there for doing this, they had already lost their dad, and what if her mom didn’t come out of this. God, the tears rolled down her face and she just let her heart crack wide open, and the tears fall into the ocean as it rolled over her skin. She sat up and paddled, having drifted and the sky was getting darker. She went to the shore, and saw Killian sitting, her stuff in his lap. He handed her the towel as she dropped her board and she crawled into his lap and he held her as she cried softly, soothing her, and smoothing her hair until she had let it all out. “Come on angel, let’s get you home” and he grabbed her stuff and led her to the bus driving her back home.

Ruth was on the porch reading, Dave and M in the house watching TV. Liam had hugged her goodbye after dinner, and promised to stop by before he left, and Killian had finally run off to the beach to drag Emma home. It was full dark now and she saw the bus pull in and park at the end of the driveway. Emma hopped out, her wet bathing suit, her eyes red, and Killian kissed her forehead sending her up the front walk while he moved the bus into the backyard. Emma looked up at her mom and came to sit next to her, Ruth holding her tightly and kissing her hair. “I’m sorry” Emma said quietly, and Ruth shushed her. “I know you sunshine, you needed time.” Emma hugged her mom fiercely, “do you think it will work?” and Ruth nodded against her daughters head, “I really do sunshine, I really do. But I am tired, and I am sure you are too. Let’s head in, ok?”

Emma nodded and helped her mom up, and Dave got up and crushed Emma to his good side, “You can’t just leave in the dark, no more. No surfing after sundown Em” and she looked up at him and nodded. “I can’t be worried about you out there, and her here. I need you to be here Em, I need you.” Emma kissed his cheek and noticed Killian, Dave looked at him “When I am not here, she is your responsibility.” “I’m not a child Dave! Killian has his own life, same as you and M, and Liam. All of us. I can take care of myself, but I said I wouldn’t go after dark anymore” she said petulantly. Dave softened, and looked at Killian and Emma, “Well if you’re at the beach after dark, it’s never alone. If I am not there, he is” and Killian nods “I got it Dave” and he grabbed Emma’s hand and led her up to her room. He could feel the emotion rolling off of Emma in waves, she needed grounding and he walked up to her and grabbed her hand rubbing the ring. “I’m your anchor too Em. Let me be, let me in” and she nodded, and he hugged her tightly.

Emma went to the shower and rinsed off. She didn’t bother with clothes and Killian wasn’t surprised when she crawled into bed and curled herself around him. She needed him, just as he did the night before from her, so he rolled her and slid his boxers off. He quietly made love to Emma, silencing her moans with his mouth, and kissed her tears away until they were spent. “Ems, nightgown” he said into her hair and she grabbed it off the end of her bed and pulled it on, and he pulled on his boxers and tee shirt. Emma laid her head on his chest and fell asleep. Killian laid there a while, the crickets out her window, the wind blowing in and thought back to what Ruth said, when she offered for him to be here. Maybe now he should be, for Ruth, for Emma, for Dave. He would talk to Ruth tomorrow, and drifted off to sleep.

He crept out of Emma’s bed, her still sound asleep and put on his clothes, making a pot of coffee. Ruth came in a few minutes later, not surprised to see him. “Morning” she said, and Killian handed her a cup, and she smiled. “You knew the day of the competition, when you said no matter what that I am allowed here whenever I wanted, night, day, if I chose to be, and that you were ok with it. You meant this, didn’t you Ruth?” and she looked at him quietly, and nodded. “I thought maybe you being here would help me, it would help you avoid renting a place, and I am sick. Dave and Em can’t do it all on their own all the time, but I wanted you to know you could be here as much as you wanted honey. Losing your mom, I thought you might want to be here more for Em and Dave, me too.”

He nodded, “I do, but living with you guys is one thing, I moved closer, so I am around the corner, but into your home might be a little much for now. But I will be here every day, we can schedule your treatments around our work and school schedules, so that one of us is always here with you in the house. I assume that’s what the family dinner Sunday is for? To tell the whole tribe?” and she nods and smiles. “I have an army of kids, I figured Dave was right and letting them help as much as they can or want to.” Killian smiles at her, “It’s going to be ok Ruth, I just have a feeling.”

“Is it the same kind of feeling that you had when you put that ring on my daughter?” She cocks her head to side smiling. He blushes, “It wasn’t a proposal Ruth, god I would never do that without asking you or Dave, both of you. I made a promise to Emma is all, a promise to be here as long as she wants me to be.” Ruth nods, “okay. No proposals until college, alright? And no grandbabies either until she is done with nursing school” and Killian pales, letting out a shaky laugh. “Understood.” Ruth stands, “I am heading to work, so I will see you guys later, let the kids know I’ll be home around 4” and she kissed his hair and headed towards her room.

Killian finished his coffee and went to wake Emma, knowing she had to work but Dave headed him off at the steps. “Morning” Killian said, and Dave eyed him. “Sleeping over again Jones?” He nodded, I could lie and say it won’t be a regular thing, but your mom asked me to be here more, for Em, for you, for her. So, is that going to be a problem?” Dave looked at him and shook his head. “Just make sure you have clothes on, alright?” and Killian laughed and nodded. “I am heading to work, was going to wake Emma up before I head home” and Dave nodded. “See you later roomie” Killian taunted and laughed while Dave glared at him. “Still my sister man” and Killian ignored him still laughing.

He ran his fingers up Emma’s spine, her curls dried in a wild blonde tangle, and she looked so peaceful. “Em” he said kissing her cheek, and she stirred. “Hmmmm” “I’ve got to get to work, I’ll see you later love” and she peeked her eyes open and puckered her lips, and he kissed her soundly. “love you” she said sleepily, and he agreed. “Bye” and he grabbed his backpack heading home. Liam and Elsa were drinking coffee when he walked in, and Liam greeted him, Elsa coming to hug him.

“How are you, are the Nolan’s ok?” and he nodded. “As well as can be expected” he said leaning against the counter. “I am glad she told me” Liam said quietly. “I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if we left and got a call, I wish I could stay to help her, return the kindness she has shown us since the day she met us” he said looking down at his hands. Killian came and clapped his hands on his brothers shoulders and kissed his head. “I’ll be doing that; you just focus on staying in one piece for us. But I have to get to work, dinner tonight, packing?” And Liam nodded. I’ll be home around 4, so I’ll just be boxing here, maybe I can help you take a few things to your new place, you have the keys, right?” and Killian nodded. “Alright, I will see you later. Bye Elsa” and he went to shower quickly and head off to work.

@captainswanouat @captainswoon @captain-swan-coffee @ao3feed-cs @kmomof4 @onceuponadaily @itsfabianadocarmo @lieutenantswan @kymbersmith-90 @killiansprincss @mrs-emma-swan-jones @hollyethecurious

@stahlop @hookedonkillianforlife87 @holdingoutforapiratehero​

@jrob64 @teamhook @purplehawkcaptain @sals86 @killiancomeback2me @killiansprincss @karlyfr13s @myfearless-love @resident-of-storybrooke

@thesschesthair @the-captains-ayebrows @jonesfandomfanatic @laschatzi @tiganasummertree @donteattheappleshook​ @purplehawkcaptain​ 

[iamtrebleclefstories]

Everything They Say is True

Jo and Alex don't really broadcast their relationship to everyone. Sure, they are excited to be together, but it's no one's business but theirs. For those who don't know about their relationship status, things can get awkward very quickly.

-or-

A fic that takes place within Grey's Anatomy canon

Hi guys! This surprise fic was born out of a dream I had last night and I wrote the majority of it while on my lunch break lol. I hope you guys enjoy this little piece of jolex fluff before I post chapter 9 of Didn't Think.

-Takes place during early season 10-

“God, is being outrageously hot a requirement to be hired as an attending at this hospital?” Gia Holt whispered to the young woman sitting beside her.

Anna Vargas looked over at the group of attending surgeons sitting together at a lunch table and chuckled softly, “It would seem so. I mean look at them. If one of them asked me to open my legs, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

“Same here,” Gia replied. “And I have absolutely no shame in saying that.”

“You know I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s a balancing act,” Anna said.

Gia furrowed her brow, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Anna started. “Being a surgical intern is hell. We are run ragged on a daily basis. So it would be unjust if we were expected to do all this work without some sort of compensation. So, the hospital gods blessed us with eye candy.”

Gia laughed amused at her friend’s deduction, “I like how you think, Anna. But, I would hardly consider eye candy as enough to make up for the hardship of being an intern. You know we’re always on someone’s service, doing scut and everything that can’t be bothered to do. If we’re serving them on a daily basis, it would only be fair that they serviced us.”

Anna’s eyes widened as she processed her friend’s words, “Gia!”

“What? I’m being honest. How nice would it be to be taught new skills by our attendings outside of the OR?”

“You are something else, Gi.” Anna shook her head.

“Come on,” Gia huffed. “You have to have at least thought about it. I mean, you’re bi so you have your pick of whoever you want.”

“Very true,” Anna nodded. “But I don’t think I’d actually do it. Maybe a resident, but an attending? I don’t think I have the guts to do that. If you want to though, go for it. Maybe you’ll get lucky and get a surgery or two out of sleeping with one of them.”

“So which one should I make a pass at?” 

Anna scrunched her face in thought, “Well first, you should probably figure out who isn’t married and go from there. I know Shepherd and Grey are hitched so hot neurosurgeon is off the table.” 

“That’s a shame,” Gia sighed. “I wonder if Avery and that resident Edwards are together. I saw them making out in the hallway a few months ago. If they are I can’t blame her. I mean, look at those eyes.” 

Anna hummed in agreeance, “Every time I’ve had to work with him I try not to look into his eyes so that he doesn’t see that I’m secretly melting internally. He’s definitely pretty, but I don’t think he’s what you’re looking for. He doesn’t strike me for the guy who would let you in on a surgery because you gave him some ass.”

“True,” Gia said thoughtfully. “I feel like he’s the type to give you a really nice gift after sex, but not to let you scrub in. Not that I’m looking to have sex with an attending so that I can scrub in. I’m a good doctor. I can get in on a surgery by my own merit. I just really want some hot sex with a hot guy and the guys in our class don't seem… up for the task.”

“Ooh!” Anna exclaimed. “What about Karev? The peds attending? He’s stupid hot and great with kids.”

Gia gasped, “You know what, I heard that he slept with basically all the female interns from last year’s class--some of the nurses too--so he’s not above it. From what I’ve heard, he’s really good at it too. He’s hot, got a stellar reputation in the sack, and he’s good with kids. Not that I want kids right now, but it says a lot about your character if kids like you.” 

“I agree,” Anna nodded as they continued to finish their lunch. They made casual conversation before receiving pages to the pit from their resident. “You just get a page from Wilson?”

“Yeah to the pit. I wonder what happened that she had to page both of us. Did something big happen?” Gia threw her garbage away as she and Anna started running down towards the ER. 

Anna shrugged, “I don’t know. I haven’t heard anything. I sure hope it’s something good. I would really love to get to see the inside of an OR today.” 

*****

Jo Wilson had hoped for a light day today. It had started off as a pretty quiet day. She and Alex started their morning in the shower with some hot shower sex and then stopped for breakfast at their favorite donut shop. When they got to work, she did rounds, assigned her interns to their posts and then proceeded to perform an appy on a seventeen year old. She had just scrubbed out when she decided to go down to the pit to answer any surgery consults. She spent a few hours down in the ER when she got pulled aside into any empty linen closet. She smiled widely when she realized who it was and turned to kiss Alex. 

"Hey, how's Micky? I heard you're trying to find an alternative treatment option for his Wilms tumor."

"Yeah, we couldn't get the entire thing the first time around so I'm hoping with a little bit of chemo we'll be able to shrink it enough to get good margins. And since—as of ten minutes ago—you're on my service for the next two weeks, you'll be scrubbing in with me on that and any other cool thing that comes our way." Alex grinned widely at his girlfriend. 

Jo's eyes widened in glee, "Really? Wait, why am I on your service for two weeks? You didn't request me just because I let you in my pants on a daily basis?"

Alex scoffed, "Please. My friends own the hospital, I can put whoever I want on my service. But to answer your question, no it's not because you are a great lay or because I love you. It's because you're an amazing doctor and are going to become a really damn good surgeon one day. Maybe even a peds surgeon. And I don't let just anyone work on peds. Peds is hardcore. I'm not gonna let just anyone hack up a kid. I'm gonna let the best, and you are the best."

Jo grinned before kissing him again, "You are the best boyfriend and attending ever."

"I know," Alex smirked. "Okay I'm going to get lunch. Want to join me?"

"I wish I could but I just started some sutures on a lady in bed 4."

"Get one of your interns to do it. That's what they're here for."

"I would but they are currently having lunch and I'm almost done anyway. I'll come eat when I'm finished."

Alex looked at her skeptically. Knowing his girlfriend, Jo would probably forget to eat and then later in the evening he'd end up having to buy her one of everything off the menu at Joe's. "Alright, I'll see you later."

About fifteen minutes later, Jo had finally discharged the woman she had been suturing. She was about to make her way to the cafeteria when a nurse called out to her, "Dr. Wilson! There is a rig about three minutes out with a five year old girl that received trauma to the lower ribcage, upper abdomen after falling from a tree at school. There don't seem to be any breaks but paramedics are concerned with a possible collapsed lung and fluid build up in the abdomen."

" Okay, page Dr. Karev and my interns, Holt and Vargas. And have cardio on standby. "

" Right away, Doctor Wilson."

Jo sighed before gowning up and going to the ambulance bay to wait for the rig, "So much for going to lunch," She muttered to herself. Seconds later, she heard footsteps walking behind her. Turning to see her interns now gowned up she gives them a small smile before filling them in on the situation. "Vargas, go prepare trauma two and get a portable ultrasound and x-ray ready. Holt, make sure we have a peds cart ready and a chest tray for a suspected pneumothorax. I'll retrieve the patient. The ambulance is one minute out so please be quick."

The two young women nodded at their resident and ran to prepare for the little girl about to come in. When the paramedics arrived, Jo hurried and ushered the small child into the trauma room that had been prepared. She was taking the young girls vitals when Alex walked into the room. 

“You paged me? What do we got?” 

“Lizzie Graham, five years old. She fell fifteen feet out of a tree at recess. She’s got a pneumothorax and fluid build up in the abdomen. There isn't any evidence of fractures, just some nasty bruising. We just took her x-rays and are about to perform an ultrasound,” Jo sighed. “Her O2 levels are low and she’s got unequal breath sounds. She needs a chest tube.” 

Alex furrowed his brows. He always hated this part. Chest tubes hurt like a bitch--he knew that from experience. He looked over to the two interns in the room, “Did someone contact her parents yet?”

“Yes,” Holt replied. “They are on their way to the hospital as we speak. One of her teachers is out in the waiting room.” 

"Good," Alex looked over to Jo who had prepared the chest tube. Crouching down by the whimpering child, he smoothed down her hair in a comforting manner. "Hey Lizzie. My name is Dr. Alex. I heard that you took a fall today. We're gonna try our best to help you feel better. But in order to feel better, you're going to feel some pain first. The pain is going to help you breathe, so I need you to be brave for me. Can you do that? Can you be brave?"

Lizzie nodded tearfully, "Hold my hand?"

Jo's heart broke at the little girl's request, "Hey Lizzie, my name is Dr. Jo. Dr. Alex needs both of his hands in order to help you breathe but you can hold mine and squeeze as tight as you want."

They got the tube in and proceeded to perform the ultrasound, "Looks like a ruptured spleen and appendix. She might have a liver lac, but we won't know until we get in there. Holt, book an OR and prep Lizzie. Vargas, stay out here and let me know as soon as her parents arrive. Be sure to keep an eye on my pre and post-ops while Wilson and I are in surgery."

The interns nodded, "Yes Dr. Karev."

*****

The surgery went well. They ended up having to remove both Lizzie's spleen and appendix, but Alex was confident that Lizzie would make a full recovery. They were on their way out to speak to the young girl’s parents who had arrived at the hospital twenty minutes after they went in for surgery. Alex went up to the pair and motioned for Jo to follow him while the interns stood a couple feet off to the side, “Hi my name is Doctor Karev. You must be Lizzie’s parents."

The couple sprung up from their seats frantically, “Yes! How is she? How is our daughter?”

“She is doing just fine. She came in with a ruptured spleen and appendix. Doctor Wilson and I were able to remove both the spleen and appendix. Thankfully, she did not break any bones during the fall so her recovery will last about four to six weeks. I’d like to keep her here in the hospital for about a week for observation, but if everything goes well, she’ll be good to go home when the time is over.” Alex replied to the parents.

“Can we see her?” Mrs. Graham asked.

“Lizzie is in recovery right now, but I can have one of my interns take you to her room to wait for her to arrive. She will be groggy and possibly in a bit of pain, but all of that is completely normal. We will come in to check on her in about an hour to two hours to ensure everything is okay.” Jo smiled at the worried pair. She turned over to her interns, “Holt, you take the Graham’s up to Lizzie’s room? Vargas, make sure to continue to keep an eye on Doctor Karev’s pre and post ops. Both of you keep us posted if anything changes.” Both interns left to do their tasks.

“You did great in there today,” Alex complimented as he and Jo walked down the hall.

Jo grinned cheekily, “Thank you. You were a wonderful teacher as always. So, do we have any more surgeries scheduled for the day?”

"Just a hernia repair in about an hour. Shouldn't take more than 45 minutes to do. And I've been thinking, I might let you take the lead on this one."

"Really?"

"Yeah. You know how we do things; see one, do one, teach one. You've seen hernia repairs done before, and you've assisted with them, so today you lead and I'll assist."

Jo grabbed Alex’s hand and pulled him into the empty on-call room down the hall and smiled, “You sir, are doing a very good job if your goal was to get into my pants for the second time today.”

“Am I?” Alex feigned innocence. He kissed her deeply before speaking again, “Lock the door.” 

*****

Laying in the afterglow had become one of Jo’s favorite parts of sex with Alex. She had never experienced such security and love as she did when she was in his arms. She snuggled closer to him and closed her eyes for a brief moment. Alex was caressing her back when her stomach growled loudly, ruining the moment. 

“Dude, I thought I told you to eat lunch,” Alex chastised. 

“I was going to… but then Lizzie came into the ER and I got pulled into a 4 hour surgery.”

“Jo, all you’ve had all day is a powdered sugar donut and a medium coffee. You’re a doctor, you of all people should know that’s not healthy.”

“Wow, you’re one to talk. If I can recall correctly, not too long ago I was the one getting on your ass about eating right,” Jo reminded.

“Shut up,” Alex glared playfully. “Come on. Let’s get something for you to eat. We got the hernia repair in fifteen minutes.” 

They each bought a snack and went to check in on their patient before getting ready for surgery. After assuring the nervous parents, Alex looked over to the interns, “Hey, Holt and Vargas! Wilson is going to be performing the hernia removal today and I think it would be good for you to observe your resident performing a procedure. You’ll both scrub in and take turns holding the retractor and observing. We’ll meet you in the OR.”

“You know, before I was an intern, you would have never been so eager to teach. I think dating a resident has made you soft,” Jo teased as the two of them entered the scrub room. 

Alex rolled his eyes as he scrubbed. They walked into the operating room and looked down at the young patient; eleven year old Hunter Miller. The interns were ready and standing around the OR table. Alex nodded reassuringly as Jo took a deep stabilizing breath, “Alright Jo. The floor is yours. You’ve got this. Don’t second-guess or underestimate yourself. Remember what I always say--”

“You wouldn’t let me hack into a kid just because you like me. You let me in on a surgery because I’m good,” Jo finished.

“Exactly,” he smiled through his mask. “Now, just walk me through everything and take the time to teach your interns about what is going on.”

She nodded and began. They were about halfway through the hernia repair when Alex felt confident enough in Jo’s abilities to begin a conversation, “So Mer wants us to go to Joe’s bar tonight. Something about Yang’s birthday and tequila shots. Doesn’t want to make a huge deal about it, but thought it would be fun to invite a whole bunch of people for shots.”

Jo looked up from her work skeptically, “Did Grey really invite me or did she invite you?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes it matters. Grey hates me.”

“No she doesn’t.” 

“Yes she does.”

“Jo, Mer does not hate you. She likes you, trust me. You know, one time she even told me she thinks you're a badass.” 

Jo snorted, “Well she sure has a funny way of showing it.”

“She told me to invite you. And you won’t be the only resident. She’s inviting Ross and Edwards too so you’ll have friends. Besides, you live with Cristina so it would look really bad if you didn’t show up to her birthday shots and she saw you lounging in your sweats on the couch with a beer and a tub of popcorn,” Alex said. 

“You live with Dr. Yang?” Vargas asked.

Jo and Alex looked over at the intern in surprise, almost forgetting that they were not alone, “Yeah we live in the same house. We both crash with Alex. I’m surprised he hasn’t kicked us out yet.” 

“Shut up… I need the rent check."

“Wait, so you all live in one house together?” Holt asked.

“I like to lovingly refer to it as the frat house. Everyone has lived there at some point,” Jo replied.

“It used to be Grey’s house. A lot of the attendings have lived there at some point. Shepherd, Kepner, Avery, and some people who aren’t around anymore. It was always open for anyone who needed a place to stay,” Alex shared. “I bought it from her last year and kept up the tradition.” 

Jo laughed, "I really don't know why you think Yang would notice if I’m there or not. It’s not like we’re close.”

“Look, I’d rather be lounging on the couch in my sweats watching old reruns of Friends or Modern Family, drinking beer too but if I have to go, you have to go.”

“They’re your best friends, though!” 

“Come on Jo,” Alex pleaded. “If you go and decide to leave early then I’ll have an excuse to leave because we came in the same car this morning. Also, don’t forget you’re on my service for the next few weeks. I can make your life hell.”

“Woah,” Jo looked up from the patient. “That sounds a bit like coercion.”

Alex gave her an unimpressed look, “Please. I’m begging here. And you know I don’t beg. I can’t handle another night of hearing about Mer’s McDreamy issues and Cristina’s weird arrangement with her not-husband.”

Jo exhaled, “Okay. Fine I’ll go. But you’re buying everything.”

“Deal.”

The rest of the surgery goes extremely well. Jo completed the repair perfectly. The four doctors are in the process of scrubbing out when Alex spoke up again, “You know, Holt and Vargas, you should meet us at Joe’s to celebrate. Your resident just performed a hernia repair on her own on  a peds patient and you both assisted. So drinks are on me tonight!’

The interns nodded in excitement and confirmed that they would be at the bar that night at seven o’clock. Alex sent them off to do a couple tasks while he and Jo went to check on Lizzie and a few of his other patients. 

*****

“Can you believe it? Karev invited us out for drinks later!” Gia screeched excitedly. “This might be easier than I thought.”

“It is exciting,” Anna agreed. “We hardly ever get to spend time with everyone outside the hospital. So who knows, maybe even I will get laid tonight. You might want to wait before you make a movie on Karev, though.  I am trying to figure out though, if Wilson and Karev are sleeping together.”

“Why would you think that?” Gia asked.

“Wilson is only a second year resident living with two attendings. There’s no way she could’ve moved in with them as an intern unless she was already friends with one of them, and from the conversation in the OR, I can tell that she’s not close to Yang. Her and Karev seem really close, but I can’t tell if they’re just friends or if she’s sleeping with him. I mean, he just let her take point on a surgery. Karev is known for being horrible to interns and residents. So I’m wondering if they’re friends with benefits.”

Gia tilted her head to the side, “You make a good point there. She may have already beat me to him… either way I think I’ll still try. Maybe they are sleeping together, maybe they aren’t exclusive, maybe they’re just friends. I don’t know, but Karev is hot and so am I, and we could have some really hot sex, so I’m gonna make a move. The worst he can say is no.” 

They walked into the bar and saw Wilson sitting with Ross and Edwards at the bar. Off to the side, Karev was standing at a table with Yang and Grey, rolling his eyes at something they said. Doctor Grey gets the attention of the surrounding doctors before speaking, “Alright as many of you may know, today is Cristina’s birthday so we’re going to do some shots! If you are a doctor at Grey-Sloan, then please make your way over to the bar as we toast to everyone’s favorite cardiothoracic surgeon.”

A string of laughter and teasing could be heard as everyone took hold of their tequila shots and lifted them up, “To Doctor Yang.”

“To Doctor Yang!”

The atmosphere lightened up a bit and distinctions between superiors and subordinates blurred as the alcohol made its way around the room. Alex left his friends and made his wave over to where Jo was sitting at the bar and waved over Holt and Vargas. He looked over to the bartender and began to order some drinks, “Hey man. Can I get a beer for me, a vodka and coke for Jo, I don’t know what those two want but it’s on me.”

“I’ll take a martini and Anna will have a cosmopolitan,” Gia answered. 

After each receiving their drinks, Alex raised his glass, “To a great day of saving tiny humans. It’s not everyday that you treat a kid that’s gonna make it, but today we did.” 

The group cheered and downed their drinks. About an hour had passed, and everyone was starting to feel some of the effects of the alcohol. Alex became more flirty than usual. His statements were suggestive and oftentimes. Jo was a giggler. She found everything mildly hilarious and more often than not, lost an item or two of clothes in the process. So far, she had shed the cardigan she’d been wearing. Interns on the other hand, became more bold when drinking alcohol. Gia especially, had her inhibitions lowered and decided that she would finally make her move on Karev. 

“So Karev, when was the last time you picked someone up in the bar?” Gia asked.

Alex laughed, “Honestly, I don’t remember.”

“Oh please,” Jo rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you remember. It couldn’t have been that long ago. You’d come here every other day with Avery while I was dating Jason and couldn’t hang out with you.”

“I’m serious,” Alex swore. “The last time I came to the bar and tried to pick someone up was last year before Mer, and everyone bought the hospital. I’m out of practice.”

“There’s no way,” Jo shook her head in disbelief. “You did not go that long without a bar hookup.”

“But I did,” Alex nodded. 

Sensing that this might finally be her moment, Gia exchanged a glance with an equally tipsy Anna and turned to Alex, “Well, we have to fix that don’t we?”

“Huh?” Alex scrunched his face at the intern.

Jo--who had understood what was going on--burst out into laughter. She considered saying something and staking her claim on Alex, but decided to let him suffer and see what his reaction would be. 

Gia smiled flirtily and placed her hand on Alex’s arm, “You said you’re out of practice, so how about I help you break your dry streak?”

Alex’s eyes widened comically as he finally caught on to what the young woman was suggesting. His eyebrows raised and he opened his mouth in shock, closing it dumbly when words failed to come out. He looked over to Jo for assistance, only to find that she was laughing so hard that tears were trailing down her cheeks. Alex laughed awkward and attempted to say something again, “Um… I’m good, thanks.”

“Oh come on, there’s no need to be shy,” Gia winked. “I know you aren’t. Your reputation speaks for itself, and I for one would not mind finding out if all they say is true.”

Alex looked at Jo with desperation in his eyes. Finally deciding to have mercy on him, she turned to her intern with an amused look on her face, “Alex won’t be going home with you tonight.”

“Why not?” Gia asked, seeming mildly offended.

“Because, tonight, Alex will be going home with me,” Jo supplied. “Just like he does every night, because I’m his girlfriend and he no longer needs to pick up random women in bars.”

Both Gia and Anna’s faces paled at Jo’s confession. Gia began to stutter her apologies to her resident when Jo interrupted her, “Holt. Relax. I get it, trust me. He’s hot.”

Alex, who had been observing the scene, felt his ears get hot, “Jo…”

“I’m serious,” Jo grinned. “No hard feelings. You didn’t know. But now you do, so if I see or hear of you making another pass at my boyfriend, you will be drowning in scut.” 

Gia nodded and buried her face in her hands in embarrassment. Anna placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, “I guess I was right, huh?”

“I’m thinking I should’ve listened to you when you suggested that they might be a thing,” Gia cringed. 

Deciding it was time to leave and allow the poor intern to wallow in her embarrassment, Alex pulled Jo up and started to guide her out the door. Just as the two of them were about to walk out the door, Jo stopped and gave Gia sly smirk, “Oh and just so you know, everything they say about him is true.” 

[imagining-supernatural]

The First Fight

Part 10 of Seventy Percent

Series Summary: When you left on your trip to Vegas, you’d planned on letting loose for one last weekend before heading back to reality and getting your affairs in order so your best friend wouldn’t be left cleaning up your mess when your cancer finally ended your life. What you hadn’t counted on was waking up married to a celebrity who has a knight-in-shining-armor complex, connections with an oncologist, and amazing insurance…

Chapter Summary: Now that reality has popped your bubble of hope, you start planning for the chance that you die and Sebastian isn’t too happy about that...

Word Count: 1,568

It wasn’t that you were mad at Sebastian…

But it was definitely his fault you were in this predicament. If he had just gotten the annulment back in Vegas, you could be back home drinking a mojito in your favorite bar instead of leaning against the wall of the elevator trying to catch your breath because walking from the front door of his apartment to the elevator was enough to wipe you out.

If you could, you’d laugh at yourself for thinking the treatment had been intense before. This new round of infusions was zapping every single molecule of energy you had. You barely had the motivation to grab a bag of crackers before curling up on the guest bed and falling asleep.

Sebastian didn’t know, though. He called every day and you managed to infuse enough brightness in your voice that he didn’t ask questions. As far as he was aware, you were still doing the same as before.

After all, he didn’t have reason to think otherwise.

By Wednesday, you nearly gave up. You almost called Sean to cancel the car. You almost didn’t go to the hospital for your infusion. You almost started researching divorce attorneys in New York. You felt half-dead already. Your cancer was more aggressive than anyone thought. If this treatment didn’t work, you knew you were going to die sooner than you thought.

And you were not about to saddle Sebastian with your debt. You had a shit ton of student loans from school. You had stacks of credit card debt you hadn’t paid down from your chemo, when you’d had to cut back your hours.

If you died, you were sure the debt collectors would use your new marital status to hound Sebastian for payments.

But you also knew that Sebastian wouldn’t let you stop treatment. He wouldn’t sign the divorce papers until the very last option had been exhausted.

So when you got home from the hospital on Friday, you did the best thing you could think of and started researching how to protect him from your debts. Three hours and a million open tabs into your research later, your laptop was sliding off your lap while you slept.

Slowly, you pulled yourself out of your slumber. The sunlight streaming in through the guest room window let you know it was morning and—

Guest room window? You’d fallen asleep on the recliner last night. You were nearly one hundred percent certain of that.

And… was that coffee you were smelling?

That could only mean Sebastian was home. You could have sworn he wasn’t scheduled to fly back until this afternoon, but wouldn’t put it past him to come home earlier. He was very persistent in taking care of you. Even when he was gone, he still called every day and always reminded you to eat well and take your medicine.

It was fucking annoying.

Aw well. You felt okay enough to pretend you weren’t worse off than when he left. So you pulled on a hoodie and walked out to the kitchen.

“Hey, you’re back early.”

“Yeah,” he grunted. He was sitting at the counter with his phone in one hand and coffee mug in the other. Normally he would have gotten up and prepared your coffee when you walked in, but he wasn’t making any move to do so. He wasn’t even looking at you.

That was weird.

Maybe he was just tired after being camera-ready all week.

So you said nothing as you went about pouring your own cup of coffee.

“I noticed you didn’t eat many of the leftovers I left for you,” he said evenly, still not looking at you. There was an edge to his voice that you’d never heard before. Was it because he thought you weren’t eating well?

Well, you weren’t. But he didn’t need to know that. So, you lied. “Yeah, I, uh, ended up eating at the hospital cafeteria more than usual.”

“Hmm.”

“Is something wrong?” You asked, sitting next to him with your coffee. “Did something happen this week? You seem… off.”

“Why don’t you tell me, Y/N?” He finally looked at you, but with the anger in his eyes, you’d rather he hadn’t. “You aren’t fooling me with the hospital cafeteria shit. You look a hell of a lot worse than you did when I left. And when I came home last night, you were looking up how to protect me from your debt after you die. So you tell me. Are you planning on dying? You giving up?”

“I’m—” speechless, really. You didn’t know how to deal with a mad, closed-off Sebastian. “They changed my… my infusion cocktail this week and it’s been kicking my ass. That’s it. I’m fine, though.”

“Fine,” he scoffed, looking away from you. “Why’d they change your infusions? Huh? You told me everything was fine before I left. You told me the tumor stopped growing.”

“I didn’t lie about that,” you insisted, starting to get angry yourself. “It did stop growing.”

“So then, what? You just decided it’d be fun to stop eating? To start planning for your death?”

“You wouldn’t understand,” you mumbled, taking a scalding drink of your coffee.

“Try me, Y/N,” he nearly yelled, startling you. “Fucking try me. I deserve that much, don’t I? I’m letting you live here, I legally tied myself to you. I thought I was supporting you. I thought we were friends, at least. I deserve a fucking explanation!”

Why had you thought he wouldn’t sign divorce papers? It was very clear to you that he was finally realizing his mistake. He finally realized he should have signed those annulment papers and fucked right out of your life.

“I didn’t ask for any of that, Sebastian! You are the one who pushed for this. You are the one who ignored me when I basically begged you to get the annulment. You’re the one who made me get more tests run and it’s your fault I started to hope again. So I’m sorry that you didn’t realize how much of a fucking burden I am. And I’m sorry that Dr. Sharpe and Dr. Chowdhury didn’t realize how aggressive my cancer was. I’m not giving up, but I’m sure as hell not going to ignore the very real possibility that my tumor won’t shrink and that I’m going to die. I’m not going to ignore the fact that seventy percent was a fucking fairy tale and now that I know my chances of dying are climbing, I’m not going to apologize for trying to protect you from my shitty life in case I die before we get a divorce. Okay?”

“Y/N—”

You didn’t even register his waning anger. Now that you’d given your emotions a voice, you couldn’t stop yelling any more than you could stop the tears running down your cheeks.

“I’m not going to fucking apologize for trying to help you a fraction of how much you’ve helped me. But I’m done living in denial. I thought this treatment was the miracle I was too scared to hope for, but it turns out it’s just as much of a fight that chemo was—no. More. It’s more a fight than chemo was and I’m not giving up, no matter what you think. I almost did this week, but I’m not going to. I’m going to keep fighting, but I know better than anyone that there are some fights that you just can’t win and this isn’t one of those times you can ignore the possibility of losing because if I lose, that’s it. I’m dead. And if you won’t realize that, then it’s up to me to plan for that.”

Knuckles white where you were gripping the mug, you kept your eyes on the dark liquid inside. A tear fell from your cheek and splashed in the mug, creating ripples.

Your outburst drained you so much that you couldn’t even raise the full mug to your lips.

“Y/N,” Sebastian whispered. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him reach for you. That was enough to give you enough of a burst of energy to slide off the stool and head for the kitchen door.

“I don’t have the energy to do this right now. I’m going to lay down.” Last night, you’d thought that there was no way in hell that Sebastian would sign a divorce agreement. But now you weren’t so sure. Maybe he wanted you gone.

And if he did… well. You understood.

So, just before you left the kitchen, you said softly, “This isn’t me giving up, but… But you had no idea what you were signing up for so if you’re done, if it’s too much, I don’t blame you. I’ll sign whatever you want me to and fly back to Utah.”

He called after you, but you focused everything you had into getting to the guest room, shutting the door, and collapsing onto the bed. Less than a minute later, you heard the front door open, then slam shut. Probably Sebastian leaving. Taking advantage of your absence to return to his normal life.

Hell, he’d had an entire week without you. A week to realize what life before you was like. How much better it was.

By the time you’d cried yourself into an exhausted sleep, half of your pillow was damp with tears.

What do you think will happen when she wakes up? Will they be able to fix things? Does Sebastian even want to fix things?

Chapter 11: The First Article

[appalachianwiine]

Swim - Chapter 6 - Soon You’ll Get Better

The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair

In doctor's-office-lighting, I didn't tell you I was scared

That was the first time we were there

Holy orange bottles, each night I pray to you

Desperate people find faith, so now I pray to Jesus too

And I say to you

Ooh-ah, soon you'll get better

“Soon You’ll Get Better” by Taylor Swift

It’s another restless night for the both of them. The nurses are in and out a half dozen times, leaving little more then two hours stretches in which they can sleep. Lydia doesn’t seem terribly fussed by this, waking rather grumpily for vitals and then drifting back off to sleep as the nurse exited the room. Daryl on the other hand manages less than four hours of broken sleep. 

By the time 7:30 rolls around Lydia is wide awake and asking for breakfast. Daryl, who had only gotten to dozing again a half hour before, sits up with a groan. He runs a hand over his face and rubs the sleep from his eyes, looking over at Lydia, who’s moved from the hospital bed to sit at the foot of the hide-away. 

“Alrigh’.” He mutters. “I’ll go down an’ get us some breakfast.” 

“Can I have pancakes?” Lydia asks eagerly. “And juice?” 

“Sure kiddo.” Daryl sighs, swinging his legs off the side of the hide-away and into his boots. “Then you gotta take a bath okay?” 

“A shower.” Lydia frowns. 

“I don’ know ‘bout that.” He mutters, bending over to lace up the boots. “You ain supposed t’ get that PICC line wet, but I’ll ask the nurse.” Lord knew a shower would be easier on him. It would give him a good 15 minutes to think.

“Okay.” 

“Good girl.” He yawns. “I’ll be back in 10 minutes. Behave.” He leans over to kiss the top of her head. 

“I will.” Lydia promises. 

When Daryl gets to the elevator he finds Ezekiel waiting. Yesterday’s buoyant, playful man was gone. The Ezekiel who stood next to him looked twice as tired as Daryl felt and as though all the joy had been sucked out of him. 

“Daryl.” Ezekiel forces a strained smile. “You and Lydia sleep well?” 

“Not really.” Daryl mutters. “Not that Lydia seems t’ have noticed. You an’ Henry?” 

“No.” Ezekiel frowns, stepping into the elevator as the doors open. “Henry got his round of chemo yesterday evening. He was up most of the night being sick. I’m going to get him something to eat. I want him to at least try.” 

“Sorry man.” Daryl follows him into the elevator, a knot settling in his stomach. Lydia’s first chemotherapy treatment was today.

“Oh he’ll get through it.” Ezekiel sighs. “I just hate seeing him like this. This is not my little boy.” 

“Yeah.” Daryl licks his lips. He doesn’t much want to make conversation, but he’s stuck in the elevator with the other man and they’re going to the same place. “So uh, how y’all likin’ Atlanta?” 

Ezekiel raises his eyebrows. “Given the circumstances it’s not my favorite city.”

“Ah.” Daryl mutters, he hadn’t thought of the reason they were in Atlanta. Stupid given Ezekiel had told him just yesterday. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine.” Ezekiel shakes his head, stepping out of the elevator. “Lydia starts treatment today yes?” 

“Yeah.” Daryl nods. 

“I’m sorry.” Ezekiel whispers. “It’s… it’s not something I would wish on the worst of us.” 

The air between them lingers heavily as they enter the cafeteria, it’s quiet this early in the morning, the staff shuffling about quietly, one or two tired parents clutching pagers and looking around nervously. Daryl follows Ezekiel to the counter, ordering after him and taking the number given to him. He finds himself once again standing next to Ezekiel, waiting for their orders to be ready. 

“I uh - I saw Henry the other night.” Daryl says finally. “The night we were admitted.” 

“You did?” Ezekiel frowns. 

“Yeah um - he was hiding behind the nursing station and uh - you picked him up and he -” 

“Was laughing.” Ezekiel finishes. 

“Yeah.” Daryl nods. “It was ten o’clock at night on the cancer floor and he was laughing.” 

“That’s Henry.” Ezekiel smiles. “He’s always made the best of the worst situations.” 

“He's done this before?” Daryl asks. 

“No - not this exactly.” Ezekiel says. “But um - when he was four he was in a very bad car accident.” 

“Oh.” Daryl frowns. “Was he uh - was he -”

“Mine then?” Ezekiel finishes. Daryl feels his face grow hot. “No, he wasn’t. I was a newly licensed foster parent in Prince William County, and he was my first foster child. His brother and both parents were killed in the accident. The parents instantly, the brother after a few days.” 

“Shit man.” Daryl mutters. “That’s rough.”

“Yeah.” Ezekiel says. “He’s had it harder then most, but he still laughs. He still makes the best of what he’s given. It’s a gift from God.” 

“God.” Daryl monotones. 

“You don’t believe in God?” Ezekiel offers a half smile. 

“I do.” Daryl says. “But I don’ think he’s worth worshippin’.” 

“Hm.” Ezekiel frowns. 

“No speech?” Daryl chuckles. 

“No speech.” Ezekiel says. “Your relationship with God is not my business, and mine is not yours. But God has helped my son. He’s given us this clinical trial. He’s given me a place at the zoo. He’s shown me Carol.” 

“‘S a little preachy.” 

“You asked.” Ezekiel smiles. 

“Fair.” They linger in silence until Ezekiel’s number is called and Daryl’s shortly there after. As they’re walking back towards the elevator Ezekiel speaks again. “I hope Lydia handles her chemotherapy well.” 

“Thanks.” Daryl nods, stepping into the elevator. “How - when will we know?” 

“Well every child reacts differently.” Ezekiel says. “Henry handles some better then others. He does fine with the cisplatin but the vincristine is pretty hard on him. Thats the one he got last night, I expect we’ll be here for at least a week with the side effects.” 

“Shit man.” Daryl mutters. Will it be like that for Lydia? She had a different kind of cancer, surely the treatment would be different? 

“He’s a strong boy.” Ezekiel says. “He’ll get through it.”

“Yeah.” 

They  linger in silence until they get out of the elevator and make their way to their separate rooms. Lydia takes the pancakes and juice with glee, someone’s turned on the television for her while he was gone and the grating sound of Disney Channel ran through they room. Daryl took his coffee over to the pull out bed and sat down, sipping it gingerly. The disney jingle pierced his brain as one of the many formulaic shows started up. He needed sleep, but coffee would help for now. 

The door pushes open, reminding Daryl for the millionth time that their world is completely different then it was two days ago. 

“Hey Lydia.” Dr. Rhee says. “Sleep good?” “I guess.” Lydia nods, not really paying attention, her eyes focused on the TV as she ate.

“Good” Maggie grins. “Mind if I borrow daddy for a bit?” 

“Okay.” Lydia shrugs,. 

“Come with me Mr. Dixon?” Dr. Rhee motions him out of the room. 

“Yeah.” Daryl nods, picking up his coffee and following her into the hall. His stomach twists into more knots. “Are her biopsy results bad or something?” 

“They’re not back yet.” Dr. Rhee assures. “I just wanted to talk to you about the chemo she’ll be starting today and get the consent forms signed.” 

“Oh.” Daryl nods. “ Yeah um, sure.” 

Dr. Rhee leads him to the nurses station and picks up a clipboard and pen, holding them out to Daryl. He takes them. The form is thick, at least ten pages long and on the top page alone he see’s a bold heading ‘Vincristine effects and side effects.” The foreign word floats in front of his eyes, 

V I N C R I S T I N E. 

It sounds almost as bad as ‘Leukemia’ does. 

“Just in here.” Daryl blinks, Dr. Rhee is standing across the room. He nods, and hurries to the door she indicates. The room is small, a little more personal then the other rooms. There’s a low table with a few toys, and a hot water heater and packets of tea and instant coffee by the wall. A couple of arm chairs sit against one wall and there’s a table with three chairs - one to one side, and the other two opposite - in the middle of the room. “Would you like a minute to go over the form?” 

“Nah.” Daryl shakes his head. “Jus’ - tell me ‘bout the chemo yerself.” He figures she’ll be able to explain it better then the consent form can. That will be full of legal jargon and confusing terminology. Daryl wasn’t stupid, but he wasn’t going to attempt the consent form until he had a bit more time. 

“Right.” Dr. Rhee smiles, taking a seat in one chair and motioning Daryl to the two opposite. He sits heavily in one, setting the clipboard down with a soft thud! “Today we’re going to give her a round of vincristine. It’s a type of chemotherapy, the most common used in treating most pediatric cancers but particularly leukemia’s. We’ll be using her PICC line to administer the drug, but because of the effects of vincristine on the kidneys we’re going to push fluids first. She’ll get fluids for 4 hours and then a half hour of chemotherapy followed by four more hours of fluids.” 

Eight and a half hours of stuff going in her and only a half hour of it the medicine she’d need. Good lord what did that mean it would do to his little girl? He swallows hard and nods. “What um - what - when will stuff start happenin’?” 

“Side effects or when will it start killing the cancer?” Dr. Rhee asks. 

“Both I guess.” 

“Well, it will start killing the cancer almost immediately, but right now there’s so much in her body we’re going to have to do quite a bit of it in conjunction with other therapies to get ahead of it.” Dr. Rhee explains. “Now the good thing is that vincristine is predictable. We’ve been using it for decades, so we know what to expect and how to balance it. Some effects take longer than others but she's probably going to be pretty nauseous not long after she gets the dose and we should expect this to increase. We can give zofran if things get too bad, but she probably won't be very interested in food. She might throw up, and diarrhea isn’t uncommon either. After about a week of treatments her blood counts will be at their lowest, that’s when we really need to be careful about infection. It’s likely she’ll get mouth sores and they’ll be pretty painful but we can manage them with morphine.” 

“A - a week.” He mutters. “She’ll uh - won’t we have a treatment plan by then?” 

“Yeah, we will, but vincristine is a staple in all leukemia treatment. It’s what we combine it with that changes.” Dr. Rhee says. 

“And we - her hair?” Daryl mutters. 

“It depends.” Dr. Rhee says. “Some kids want theirs shaved as soon as it starts falling out, but others want to wait until it falls out on its own. Child life came and talked to you?” 

“Yeah.” He nods. “Gave her a Barbie with uh - with wigs an’ hats an’ stuff. Seemed t’ like that.” 

“Good.” Dr. Rhee sounds far away now, the knot in his stomach growing steadily as the words fill his mind. Her hair. A week. Vincristine. Leukemia. Cancer. The words run across his mind in bright flashing colors, filling the whole space and leaving room for little else. Words he’d never thought about before and feared were now front and center in his mind. “Mr. Dixon?” 

“Huh?” His eyes snap up to hers. “Sorry did - can you repeat that?” 

“I asked if you had any other questions.” Dr. Rhee frowns. “Do you need a minute?” 

“No.” He says hurriedly. “But uh - are we gonna be here the whole week?” 

“Probably more like 2 or 3.” Dr. Rhee says. “First admissions are usually long.”

“Oh.” Daryl mutters. “I uh - I didn’t really… prepare for that.” 

He didn’t have another set of clothes and all of Lydia’s were mismatched, haphazardly grabbed out of the dryer in a panic. Then there was the dog. He couldn’t be left with Rick and Michonne indefinitely. And work. He’d have to talk to his captain about a leave of absence. It was something he hated to do, Dwight had already been so understanding of the situation with Lydia’s adoption. 

“You met Carol?” Dr. Rhee asks. Daryl nods. “Well she can help you with some of that. She has a network of people that can help. You have her number?” 

“Yeah. But I don’t want to be a bother.” Daryl says. 

“You won’t be.” Dr. Rhee insists. “Even if it’s just coming to sit with Lydia for an hour so you can get your stuff she’ll be happy to help.” 

“Yeah.” Daryl mutters. “I’ll give her a call I guess.” He won’t have much choice. It’s the start of the work week, everyone else will be working crazy hours but a teacher was predictable. “And uh - can Lydia have a shower?” 

“A bath.” Dr. Rhee says. “She needs to keep her PICC line dry, but I can get her a cast cover so she can bathe more comfortably.” 

Well he wasn’t going to get his few minutes of peace then.

“Thanks.” Daryl mutters. “Uh is there anything else I should know?” 

“No.” Maggie shakes her head. “Just the consent forms. I’ll give you a minute to go over them.” 

“No need.” Daryl mutters, reaching for the pen and signing his name at the back of the forms.  “I ain’ got much choice if I wan’ her t’ be okay.” 

“I understand.” Dr. Rhee nods, taking the form from his outstretched hands. “I’ll send the nurse in to start her fluids in a half an hour so you’ll have time for that bath.” 

“Thanks.” Daryl mutters. 

As predicted Lydia was not thrilled about the bath and not being able to use her arm. Daryl has to wash her hair himself, scooping water over her head with a cup in a fashion he hadn’t done since she was six year s old. It was something she clearly wasn’t thrilled about, fat crocodile tears rolling down her face and her voice a high pitched whine the entire time. Daryl does his best not to look at the bruises lacing her torso and legs as he washes, dries, and helps her dress. They’re turning yellow-green today, and he hates the sight of them, they make him angry. 

The fluids go in surprisingly well, once the nurse explains to Lydia that it’s just like water she doesn’t have to drink she’s surprisingly compliant to them being attached. Within a half an hour however she’s up for the toilet. It’s a bit of an ordeal to drag the infection pump to the bathroom and back and it’s one they repeat every half an hour or forty five minutes. Dr. Rhee hadn’t been kidding about keeping her hydrated. He hadn’t seen her potty dance this much since she was much smaller, and it seems to frustrate her too. He expects relief for them when the fluids finally stop, but then Dr. Rhee enters the room holding a small yellow bag with a biohazard sticker on the front. 

Jesus Christ he’d take her to the toilet a thousand more times to avoid that. 

“Okay Lydia.” Dr. Rhee smiles. “Are you ready for your medicine?” 

Lydia frowns warily at Dr. Rhee, and her eyes fix on the bag in her hands. “I have to take all of that? Does it taste bad?” 

“Well you don’t swallow it.” Dr. Rhee says. “It goes in your PICC line just like your fluids, but some people say they taste it anyway but it just tastes like metal.” 

“Does it taste a lot?” Lydia’s even more wary, he wishes Dr. Rhee hadn’t told her that.

“No.” Dr. Rhee promises.

“Can daddy sit with me?” Lydia asks, looking back over at Daryl as Dr. Rhee approaches the infusion pole and disconnects the fluids. 

“Of course he can.” Dr. Rhee smiles, handing the empty bag of fluids to the nurse. 

“Daddy.” Lydia whimpers, holding out her arms. Daryl climbs onto the bed and lets her crawl into his lap. 

“‘s okay.” Daryl whispers, running a hand over Lydia’s hair and settling back against the pillows. She’s shaking in his arms, her face turned pointedly to the infusion pole. He kisses her hair and looks over at Dr. Rhee, the medication is connected now and he watches a thin stream of yellow fluid move down the line, into Lydia’s arm and up towards her heart. It makes him feel sick. 

“There.” Dr. Rhee says. “All connected.” 

Lydia doesn’t answer, and Daryl pulls away slightly to glance at her. Her eyes are glazed over and she's whispering very softly. “Lydia oh Lydia, oh have you seen Lydia.” 

“Hey, hey,” Daryl whispers, holding her tighter and trying to get her to snap out of it. “”S okay.” 

“She was singing that in the OR yesterday.” Dr. .Rhee says.

“Lydia oh Lydia, that encyclo-pidia” 

“She did?” Daryl’s heart sinks. She had to have been utterly terrified to sing that. 

4 years she’d worked her ass off to get to a place where she could express her emotion. Countless hours of therapies and difficult conversations and the constant reinforcing that it was safe to express herself, to not disappear like with her mother, and here she was regressing before his eyes. He wanted something different. He wanted better. She deserved better.

“Shh.” He whispers, kissing her hair. “It’s okay to cry. Jus’ cry.” 

Lydia never does though, but she doesn’t let go either. 

Towards the end of the infusion she drifts off to sleep, having been utterly worn out by the episode. He doesn’t move or put her down, in his arms she’s safe. In his arms he can protect her. 

Please, he begs silently Please let her be okay.

[kuratoki]

Changes 10

This was probably one of the hardest chapters I’ve had to write. I had a song on LOOP while writing these next few chapters so I hope the emotions can convey what I put into words :)

Do you agree that things change in time? Well four years abroad would tell wouldn’t it?

Pairing: Reader x Jeno ft. NCT`

Words: 2041

Warning: Swearing/Mentions of death from sickness/angst

1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 6.5 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10

“Y/N.” Yukhei said your name once more, “I really think we need to talk.” 

You felt the sadness of losing your friend being replaced by anger when you heard Yukheis voice. You knew why you faced so much torment over the last four years at your school where technically no one knew of your old life. You knew why you almost lost your ability to dance, you knew it all. Renjun had indulged you of his findings the day the two of you went to the Moomin cafe and there was a large part of you that was unsurprised. You couldn’t believe you were some pawn in this stupid game of unrequited love that you wanted nothing to do with.

“What do you want to talk about Yukhei?” you asked in a low tone, not wanting to cause a scene but also wanted to get this conversation over with and your point across. “Do you want to talk about how you did your sisters dirty work?” you asked, glaring, “Or do you want to talk about how both you and your sister don’t do well with rejection?” you suggested crossing your arms.

“How about we talk about how you played with Xanders feelings this whole entire time when you still had feelings for someone back home?” Yukhei shot just as irritated and emotional, “Don’t act so innocent Y/N, Xander was like my brother and you led him on all these years while my sister stood on the sidelines being his number two. You left Y/N, you left him heart broken.” he continued, tears brimming his eyes, “It was because of you his sickness came back, it’s because of you he’s gone.” 

Suddenly a loud slap was heard across the room as your hand made contact with Yukheis cheek. If you didn’t want to cause a scene, you had definitely failed now. A crowd started gathering in the kitchen as you growled.

“You.  Know. Nothing. Wong. Yukhei.” you said between breaths, your eyes hidden beneath your bangs, “Xander was like an older brother to me like Jongin is to Renjun. Like he was to you. Xander never played favorites and you know that. The fact that you’re accusing me leading him on shows how well you actually paid attention to our group. Who was there with him during his chemo appointments Yukhei?  Who rushed him to the hospital when he collapsed in the middle of dance practice? Definitely wasn’t you or your sister.” your voice got lower as you went on and took a step towards him so you were right in front of his face.

“Your sister had feelings for him, he couldn’t return them and you very well know why. You also knew why I rejected you time and time again.” you narrowed your eyes as you looked at Yeeun from the corner of your eye and she looked at you wide eyed, “Little birdies told me that you and Yeeun were a thing back then. Did you think I was stupid enough to be the other woman?” you asked him with disgust. 

“You knew that he had feelings for me yet you pursued me behind his back while he was in the hospital all the while having a girlfriend back home. What kind of friend did that make you? Instead of being there for him at his worst, you and your sister were busy planning a vendetta to get back at me. Year after year, all for unrequited love. The two of you act like the victims here but you know and I know very well that Xander and I were the ones who were the victims of your stupid game. Stay the fuck away from me Wong Yukhei or I’ll really let Jeno loose on you.”

You then shoved passed him and through the group that consisted of almost everyone, including your friends and ran out the door leaving everyone else in shocked silence.

Renjun and Jeno looked in the direction you ran and Renjun nodded his head towards the door. 

“You go after her. You know the neighbourhood better than I do;” he said and narrowed his eyes as he directed his gaze to Yukhei pissed at all the accusations that he had thrown at you, “I have a bone to pick with this guy. Just make sure Y/N’s alright.”

“I’ll do my best.” Jeno said and put his hand on Renjuns shoulder, “Thanks for clearing the air earlier by the way. At least now I know I can trust you.

Renjun shrugged, “Hey, you’re the one who caught me. I’m glad that you came to your senses sooner than later. Now go.” he said and cracked his knuckles before starting his war path towards Yukhei, “WONG YUKHEI YOU FUCKING…HOW DARE YOU ACCUSE Y/N OF SUCH THINGS!!”

Jeno was out the door as Renjun continued his tirade and trusted that the guys in the house would be able to handle the situation at hand. Taeyong, Johnny and Doyoung were all there to mediate and Jeno knew that if he had stayed, things would’ve gotten worse. He, Jaemin and Hana were on the way back to your house when they overheard Renjun trying to comfort someone over the phone. He ignored it until the words, “Baby, please don’t cry when I can’t be there to hug you and comfort you’ left his mouth. When Renjun got off the phone he turned around only to see the shocked faces of Jaemin and Jeno while Hana was there with a knowing smile. She had known all along what Renjun was doing from day 1.

Jaemin had asked if Renjun was talking to his girlfriend and he decided to come clean, Renjun admitted that yes he was talking to his girlfriend. This jumped into a whole weird conversation about how everyone thought he liked Y/N and Renjun told them that it was his initial plan in order to get Jeno to  confess to Y/N. He explained that though he and Y/N were good dance partners, that was all they were. It was the golden rule of the Select Dance Company that partners maintain a professional relationship in and out of the company. This was why the two of you were so comfortable with one another, you knew your boundaries and kept to them.

They were pulled out of their conversation when Jisung ran out saying that you and Yukhei were having an argument in the kitchen and by the time they got inside, the only heard Yukhei accusing you of whoevers death and before Renjun or Jeno could step in, you had slapped Yukhei, leaving everyone frozen in their spots.

Jeno ran and could only hope that you’d be at the one place that you both knew. He hoped that somehow, you internally depended on him enough to be in a place where he could find you or at least a place someone could find you.

 Running up the familiar path, he let out a sigh of relief when he saw your silhouette further down the hill, looking over the cityscape.  Like the first night he saw you, he slowly approached from behind and stood at your side. You didn’t seem shocked that he was there, it was as if you wanted him to find you.

“You don’t have to say anything. I just want you to know I’m here.” he whispered, his hand lightly brushing against yours, he smiled when he felt your fingers interlace with his and you let out a shaky breath. You were trusting him, you were letting him in.

“Thank you.” you whispered, tightening your grip on his hand and shuffled slightly closer so your arms were touching, “Thank you for always being there, for always finding me.”

“Wherever you go, I’ll always find you.” he said and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, bringing you close and he felt you lean against his shoulder, finally letting the silent tears flow and all Jeno did was hold you. No words were said, just small gestures of comfort. He needed to show you that he was going to be there for you, no matter what.

After a few minutes of silence, you let out a soft sigh, making Jeno look up from his phone where he was checking his messages to see what was happening back at your house.

“Can we go somewhere tonight?” you asked out of the blue, voice shaky, “I just...I don’t want to be here right now.  I don’t want to answer everyone's questions back at the house...not now..”

Jeno thought for a moment. Of course they could,all he had to do was round up the gang and they would be able to go anywhere. It was the weekend after all.

“Just the two of us?” you requested before he could say anything, “I just...want to spend time with you…” you wanted to tell him everything, just him. So he could understand what you were feeling.

“Oh.” Jeno said quickly erasing the text to Jaemin and instantly thought of the perfect plan and texted Hana for a quick favor, “I know the perfect place.” 

You look up at him with a questioning look and he gave you a reassuring smile.

“I got it. Just stay here and meet me at the road entrance when I tell you to okay? I won’t be long. Promise.” Jeno said, kissing your forehead and started running back to your houses, leaving you in your thoughts.

By the time he got back to his house, Hana was waiting in his driveway with two bags, your purse and his car keys. 

“Don’t worry about things here. The guys can take care of it. Just make sure Y/N’s okay.” Hana said as she put the bags in the back of his car, “Call us if you need anything.” 

“Thanks Hana, I owe you one.” Jeno said with a thankful smile, getting into his car, “I think she just needs to get away for awhile. She’s been under too much stress. Make sure you don’t tell anyone”

“Your secrets safe with me. I know you’ll take care of her.” Hana said with a wave before a crash was heard, “That’s not good. I should go check it out to make sure everythings okay.  We’ll see you when you guys get back.”

Quickly sending you a text on where to meet him, Jeno drove off. 

“Where are we going?” you asked as Jeno drove at a steady speed on the highway, the sound of his playlist playing quietly in the background, “We could’ve taken the train somewhere.” 

“I wasn’t sure how long you wanted to be away for. This way, we won’t have to ask Jaemin or anyone to come pick us up.” Jeno reasoned, reaching over and taking your hand in his and he chuckled when he saw the color pink dust your cheeks, “I just want you to relax for a while and talk to me when you’re ready.” He wasn’t pushing you. Just letting you know he was there and didn’t plan on going anywhere soon.

Your hands remained intertwined throughout the drive. Somewhere along the way, you had fallen asleep, with your head leaning against the window, leaving Jeno deep in his thoughts. He had so many questions that he wanted answered but he also didn’t want to push you to tell him everything out of respect for your privacy. You were in a vulnerable state now and after what Renjun told him, the person that passed was someone who meant a lot to the both of you.

“He held the group together, someone that we all cared for deeply. But I think Y/N should tell you the rest. Be patient, don’t push her. She only found out the real reason weeks ago.”

Renjuns words rang through his head once more and Jeno glanced at you as your brows furrowed in your sleep, a lone tear sliding down your cheek. He wanted so badly to take the pain you were in away, he wanted to tell you that everything was going to be okay. But he couldn’t...and because of that, he felt helpless.

[willowandfog]

InuKag Week 2020- Day 3

Please see tags for all trigger warnings! This is one continual story for the week.

FFN or AO3

Chapter Three: Confession

“Inuyasha.” Kagome’s voice was quiet, so low that his ears almost didn’t pick it up. He looked up from his phone.

“Yes dear?” He had been debating going to find the nurse and requesting to have her lunch brought up earlier today since she had hardly touched her breakfast. 

Inuyasha sat, waiting for her to speak. When a whole minute had passed and she hadn’t said anything he stood from his spot on the couch. “Kagome? Are you ok? Did you need something?” He went to stand by her bed. 

She was studying her closed book very intently. “D-do you remember how Dr. Kyoda said that if we had started treatment a little sooner, things might’ve turned out differently?” 

Inuyasha’s brows scrunched together, not sure where she was going with her question. “Sure.” Was his response as he reached out a hand to take a hold of hers, his confusion mixing with worry. 

“Well.” She paused, keeping her eyes fixed on a spot of her book cover. “Well.” She started again. “It’s my fault. I delayed starting the treatment on purpose.” Her words were now a harsh whisper.

What? He was having a hard time processing what she had said. Did she say she didn’t get treatment on purpose? 

The fog in Inuyasha’s mind seemed to part slightly. “What did you say?” His voice sounded scratchy and hesitant. 

“Inuyasha, you heard me.” 

The fog lifted and he shook his head. “But why would you do that?” He frowned, looking at her. 

Kagome sat silent for a moment. She cleared her throat, looking up to meet Inuyasha’s eyes. Her own chocolate ones were full of fear and sadness. “When we first found out about everything going on, they asked me to have my first round of treatment the next day.” Inuyasha nodded, remembering them agreeing and scheduling a treatment plan. She continued, “Well, I called them back later that day and asked them to wait until the following week to start.” She reached out to take one of his hands in hers. “I sat and thought long and hard about what all of this would mean for us. How this was going to affect our future. And I made a decision I thought was best to try to preserve that future. I figured after all this chemo was over and things were starting to clear up that we would start moving forward with our plans again.”

“Move forward with what plans?”

“Inuyasha. I delayed to have time to go to a different appointment.” She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. “I had some of my eggs frozen, Inuyasha. The doctor told me how the chemo was likely to affect my fertility and I just wanted to have assurance that we could have children like we were planning…” Her eyes flickered away for a moment before she glanced back up at him through her lashes. 

Inuyasha was too stunned to speak. He blinked rapidly a few times. “I’m gonna go find the nurse and ask her to bring your lunch up early.” He smiled at her before pulling his hand back and leaving the room.

He wandered the halls for a bit and eventually found himself standing out on a small balcony outside one of the waiting rooms. He leaned on the railing, lost in thought, letting the wind tousle his long silver hair. 

A child? I know we had been planning on trying soon, but she put herself at risk for this? Doesn’t she know that she’s more important than anything else… How could she think that I would possibly want a child if she was gone? The thought of having a constant reminder of her and what is missing will kill me. Hot tears were running down his cheeks, he didn’t bother to wipe them away. 

Images of Kagome passing and his endless suffering after filled his mind, creating an aching pain in his chest. Unbidden images suddenly came upon him, he was chasing a little girl around the house, her squeals of delight echoing in his head.  Several different images passed by quickly, him giving the little girl a bath in a bubble filled tub, watching her play on a playground. 

Inuyasha shut his eyes tight, trying to shake the images. Trying to preserve the future… She thought everything would turn out ok and just wanted a chance to have the life and future we have been planning out for years. I can see where she’s coming from, but now… I wouldn’t be able to do that without her. 

He studied the scenery for a while longer before deciding that Kagome was probably panicking wondering where he had gone. He turned to head back inside, to let her know that he understood why she had done it. That he forgave her for keeping it from him. But that he wouldn’t be able to go through with it now that she would be leaving. 

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Twenty Eight, “Unanswered Questions”

Find all chapters to this story HERE! c: 

Check out the inspiration tag for this story here! :*

Song Inspo: I’d Rather Be With You by Joshua Radin (click to listen) 

                                    SNEAKY PEEK TIMEEEEE

With a jealous sigh, I lock my phone and lose myself in my boring cup of tea. Again. Wondering when the puzzle pieces of my life will fall together, like it seems so many others have.

The people on Instagram.

Even Harry’s, I think as I steal a peek at him.

Swallowing, I suddenly think of the puzzle piece I want to find most of all. And that perhaps it’s not that I haven’t found it yet, it’s because it doesn’t fit, I realize as my eyes study him. Hands in hair. Chunky rings on his fingers. A pastel suit on. And a contagious smile on his face. All of this ignites another swarm of butterflies within my tummy.

If only he fit into the puzzle that’s my life.

“Sometimes it hurts more to hope, and it hurts more to care. But you have to promise me that you won’t stop caring.” 

- Katara, Avatar the Last Airbender

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” 

“Nothing,” I tell Skye, quickly toeing my shoes off on the rug. My rumbling tummy guides me over to the cabinets, and then the fridge. 

“Then stop slamming doors if you’re apparently not mad,” she retorts with a huff. 

The microwave beeps at me angrily, and I slam that door, too. There’s just this indescribable comfort from slamming things when you’re mad. 

I plop down onto the other side of the sofa Skye sits on, flipping through the channels on tv. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be like doing people’s hair right now?” I say in between spoonfuls of tomato soup. 

“Aren’t you supposed to like, be at school still, or in Madley?” she replies with the same disdainful tone I just used. 

Well played, Skye, well played. 

“I didn’t want to be there any longer. And I’m going up there tomorrow when dad has his next chemo.”

“Mmmmm,” she replies, not being able to pick something to watch. “Business was slow today so they told me to go home,” Skye groans. Her lips in a glittery blue lipstick press together in annoyance, and embarrassment. 

“It seems like we’re both having a shitty day.”

She nods at me, but doesn’t reply at first. “And why was yours so shit, huh?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I mutter under my breath. 

Pulling out my phone, I type in my passcode. Next, I open the app and find the profile I was looking for. One I’ve been trying to stay away from, but now I need it to answer the questions filling my head. Swiping up, my eyes search for a picture to tell me all that I want to know. But as I drink my soup, I find myself looking at artistic shots. Before long, I’m looking at pictures from 5 years ago. 

“Why’re you looking at Harry’s Instagram?” Skye asks, scooching over to sit by me. I don’t answer her, and when I dare to look up she gives me the evil eye. 

Sighing, I realize I have to tell her. And that maybe it will be good to tell somebody. “He was the guest speaker for my class today,” I admit quietly. Bringing the ceramic bowl to my lips, I down the rest of my soup. The awkward silence is soon filled with my slurps. 

“Excuse me. Did I hear you right? Harry spoke to your class today?!” she asks in near disbelief. 

Nodding, I sit forward to set the bowl on the table. Hitting the back of the sofa with a groan, I look back at my phone. 

“And you’re mad becauseeeeeeeee why?”

“Because he had a ring on his finger,” I reply in a small voice, flicking my thumb across the screen. 

“So? Everybody wears rings, Ree,” Skye insists. But my eyes pan over to hers, and I don’t hide anything in them. The realization unfolds on her face, and her features fall. “Oh, Ree. I’m sorry . . . But you can’t know if it’s a wedding ring or not.”

“I know, that’s why I’m trying to look on his insta. But I don’t see anything about a wedding or a new girlfriend,” I respond, starting at the beginning again. 

“So, that’s a good sign then. Anybody would post about getting married,” she says reassuringly. But her words don’t stitch up the hole I feel inside of me. One that grew even more just today when I saw that ring. 

“I don’t know,” I breathe out with uncertainty. 

“Is that all, Ree?” Skye coos softly. I drop my phone on my chest and close my eyes. Her fingers start to comb through my shoulder-length hair that she cut the other day in our kitchen. 

“His hair is short, and he looked so good, Skye. Fuck, he looked amazing. He was in this gray suit, and he had stubble. It was sooo attractive on him. And he was so charming with that dimply smile. Everybody ate it up, even me,” I confess, feeling the emotions weigh in my words. 

“Yeah well, even I think he’s hot. It’s pretty hard not to have a crush on him,” she agrees. I open my eyes and turn to look into hers. She flashes me a small smile as her fingers continue to play with my hair. 

“Did he recognize you?” 

“Yeah, about three minutes into his talk. And he smiled and it messed him up. Made him lose his train of thought,” I say with a proud smile tickling at my lips. She nods smiling, and says ‘go, Ree!’ “I think he wanted me to ask him a question when it came to that part, because I saw him look at me a few times.”

“And why didn’t you ask him a question?”

“There was nothing I wanted to ask since I know a lot about his career. I didn’t want to take away from the learning of the other students.”

“You’re too fucking nice,” she laughs, pulling one from my lips as well. Skye shakes her head, sending her now neon pink locks into a dance. “Soooo, did he say hi to you afterward?!” 

“No, and I didn’t know whether to say hi to him,” I admit sadly, my eyes falling to my lap. Picking at a hole in the knee of my jeans, I avoid her gaze. She has enough theoretical balls for the two of us, and is always telling me to just do it. But I never can. “I was debating to say hi when I saw the ring. And about 5 girls were already up there talking to him after class ended. I’m sure they were all flirting up a storm with him.”

“So? That’s when you walk up to him. He forgets about them. You bask in their jealousy and awe as he gives you his undivided attention,” she explains theatrically as if it were clear as day. 

“Sureeee, because that would so happen. I don’t know why you’ve always thought the feelings were mutual between us.” “Even though I only met him once when he came over, that’s all I needed to tell that he fancied you too, Ree,” she quips, wiggling her eyebrows at me. “His eyes were all over you and you could tell how much he enjoyed being with you. Even if you whooped his ass at that card game Nerts that night.”

“Yeah well, it doesn’t really matter anyway. Because apparently he’s married or engaged, or something,” I tell her in a low voice. 

“Maybe you could’ve asked him if you’d gone up to say hi to him,” she insists emphatically. God, I wish she knew when to stop. But she somehow says all of the things I'm secretly thinking. “That’s probably why you came home so early, isn’t it? So there wouldn’t be any chance that you could run into him in the halls, or at the little Starbucks they have? Am I right, or am I right?”

“You’re right, like always,” I admit through gritted teeth. I avoid her eyes, and instead pick at the pink nail polish I’m wearing. 

“I’m sorry, but when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade, Ree. Which translates into making a move with the bloke you’re pining over. Now, watch FRIENDS with me and cheer up,” Skye finishes, quickly pecking my cheek. I dramatically gag and feel her shove my shoulder. 

I briefly laugh before laying down with my head in her lap. 

“What are you doing?” she demands. 

“Play with my fucking hair. That’s what you get for being mean to me when I’m sad,” I whine, using my puppy dog voice. 

“Fineeeee,” she relents. Joey and Chandler’s faces appear on the tv screen. Not long after, I feel her fingers tickling my scalp. “Ya know, Ree, I’m pretty sure you’d have a good chance of walking into his office and pulling down his pants to suck his cock. I’m sure he’d let you.”

“Jesus Christ, Skye! Stop it! I can’t believe you’re thinking about that!” I almost shout, feeling her belly shake with laughter. 

“I’m just saying that you know, you could go to his work and ask him out. Or text him to get a coffee, or to get curry together. It’s not as hard as you make it.”

“I’m not getting started again on the rant about how he was a dick-,” I try to say, but Skye is just not having it with the excuses today. 

“And how he didn’t believe you when it came to Amber who beat you up. I know, Ree, and it was a nightmare, but it’s been a year almost! I doubt he’s married or betrothed to some random chick already. That’s the kinda thing you put on your insta, and it looks like he still uses that account. Plus, people change and it says something that you’re still crushing on him after all this time. And I’m just saying, but it looks like he still cares about you too,” Skye finishes for me, combing through my tangles. “You know I’m right.”

“Yeah, I know. But I still don’t like it.” 

“Maybe you’d like it if you tried to change it,” she continues with her speech. I roll my eyes and try to immerse myself in the scene in front of me. Chandler and Joey playing with their pet duck and chick in their shared apartment. “Just shut up and play with my hair.”

But no matter how hard I try to push her words away, they worm their way into my head. And they stay there, repeating themselves until they’re heard. 

And they won’t shut up, not yet. 

+

I shiver as the cold raindrops still run down my skin. Cursing, I round a corner and try to remember my way around this place. Checking my watch, I curse again when I find I have a few minutes left to find the lecture hall. The fucking rain ruined everything today. My hair. The traffic. My timing. But I can’t let it ruin the speech I’m about to give. No, that wouldn’t be fair to them. 

Soon, I find the number on the familiar door. I walk into a large room humming with voices. Walking straight to the front, I find the man I’m looking for. He turns around with a smile budding on his lips. 

“Glad you could make it, Harry. Thanks for coming in this lousy weather,” Professor Alcott says, gripping my hand firmly in his. 

“‘Course, Rich, I wouldn’t miss it. I’m sorry if ‘m late, tha traffic was horrendous. Big accident up on tha motorway an’ everythin’,” I reply, shaking my head. I feel the raindrops collect at the tips of some hair.  

“That’s a shame. I hope the lot are alright,” he tsks, shaking his head of graying hair. I echo his words. “Well, I’m sure the students will enjoy your talk today. I hope we won’t have as many sleepers as last week’s.” 

I laugh along with him before following him to the front of the room. A blonde fellow rounds the corner and rushes up the stairs, door banging behind him. I only catch a glimpse of him as Richard gets the attention of his quieting class. But I can’t help thinking the bloke reminds me of the main character from the Kingsman movies I’d just seen. 

After draping my coat over a table his computer sits at, I turn my attention back to the class. I smile at Rich when he introduces me, followed by their welcoming applause bringing warmth to my cheeks. 

It’s never not exciting doing these things. 

I smile back at the 50ish young faces looking up at me. They cover a wide age range from parents, some older than me, and to those straight out of high school. Nonetheless, their eager faces bring forth a feeling of hope and excitement I can’t name. 

These talks never fail to have that effect on me. 

I jump into my usual spiel, starting off with a little about who I am. Mentioning Myles, and then telling them how I came to be a lawyer. I start to talk about cases of mine, from favourites, to nightmares, to success stories, and also failures. I’m just about to speak about my time in university and try to give them advice, having known what they’re going through. 

Not long after I started, I’m in the middle of a sentence about starting the firm with Myles. I look up from a woman in the front row and to another place in the room. My eyes dance upwards, trying to include everybody. And then I see her. 

Becks. 

My Becks. 

My heart flutters in my chest as I lose my breath. It’s as if my heart is reacting to seeing her too after all this time. 

Flushed with excitement, I watch her look up from her paper. And to me. Her hair is shorter, and it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her lovely face without makeup. She’s more beautiful than I thought I remembered. A smile grows on my lips by accident, and I see one inching up her face, as well. 

Looking away fast, I remember that my eyes deceive me. And she’s not the only person in this room. “I’m sorry, what was I sayin’?” I ask with a laugh, searching the eyes of students in the first few rows. I thank an eager volunteer and continue with my story.

But it’s hard with the emotions bubbling inside of me at the sight of her. Becks is here. Thoughts run rampant inside of my head, along with questions. But I can’t entertain them right now, I remind myself. With an attempt to shut off my brain, I return my focus to my story. But the thought of her sits at the back of my mind. My emotions and thoughts doing backflips at the back of it. All as she sits up there towards the back of the room, watching me and listening. 

Suddenly, I feel even more pressure to impress. 

I had a little speech-bubble waiting inside of my head, waiting until the end to say hi to her. But the second that Alcott says his last words to the class, I’m swarmed with blushing girls standing in front of me asking more questions. Smiling, I oblige and answer them to the best of my distracted ability. Twirling a ring on my left hand, I try to assert my attention to the girl currently talking. But it’s difficult. 

I find my eyes lifting from her elated face and to the crowd of students shuffling out of the lecture hall. I think I spot her head of dark hair next to that of the Kingsman fellow, and a shock of red hair. Friends of hers, they must be. I try to balance my attention between the full force nagging inside of my head to look for her, and the students in front of me. The next time I look I see her getting closer, but then I briefly forget about her when a male student asks an interesting question. 

Wrapping up my answer, he thanks me. I shake his hand and say goodbye. My eyes trail in the direction of the door when I hear her name. Somebody else is saying it. I don’t see her shock of chocolate hair until I watch Kingsman wrap an arm around her shoulder. The flirtatious words of another girl melt into a muffle as I watch her walk away to the door. 

Becks with another guy. Words of getting coffee pass between them. 

Something happens inside of me and I feel everything shut off for a nanosecond, or ten. It only lasts longer as I witness her lean into his shoulder and leave through the ajar door. 

“I think that’ll be all for Mr. Styles today. He put on a great little show for us indeed, but he probably has to get back to work here soon,” I finally hear Rich say from behind me. But it only registers with me when I feel him pat my arm. 

I blink and turn my head back around, feeling everything hit me hard. The sounds. Remembering that people are standing there, looking at me expectantly. 

“Yeah yeah. I’m sorry, e’rybody. But thank you, an’ thank you, Rich. I um was gonna grab a coffee ‘fore I go. Where’s that cafe ‘gain?” I ask him quickly, listening intently to his directions. 

I swerve around clumps of university students mingling in the halls or walking to their next class. But all I can think about is finding her in the crowd. Of course, I don’t, because there are too many people. And too many heads of hair that look like hers. Taking a left and then a right as Rich said, I rush down a hall. At the end of it is the little Starbucks that I could smell from around the corner. And then once again, I find what I’m looking for. 

But not quite. 

I can't get my feet to move another inch. Because his arm is still around her and she’s laughing at something he said. Staring into his eyes like he painted the stars in the sky. I thought once she looked at me like that, but as I watch them, all of my confidence of that melts away. He hugs her quickly, tickling her side in the progress. And I hear her melodic laugh without a phone in between us for the first time in ages. What’s felt like forever. Something stings deep inside of me watching another man being rewarded with it. 

And it’s not me. 

Not anymore, not for what’s been a long time. 

Huffing, I find my fingers tangled in my hair. They fall as my eyes study her with what tastes like bittersweetness. She looks so cozy in a jumper and jeans. Hair wavy and tucked behind her ears. A dimple falling into her one cheek and a smile in her eyes. Her crystal blues that scream of hidden sadness. She’s even more beautiful up close, and my goodness, how she’s changed. 

I turn around and find my feet pulling me away from her. Because maybe she isn’t my Becks anymore. No, she’s his now. Because I lost her. 

Biting my lip, I round a corner and almost run into somebody. 

“Heeeey. I was looking for you, you left your coat in the lecture hall,” Rich says, holding it out for me to take. “You alright, son?”

“Y-yeah, I jus’ uh thought I saw an old friend. But I guess not.”

“Oh well, that’s a letdown.”

“Yeah, ya can say that,” I reply softly, pulling on my coat one sleeve at a time. 

I listen to Rich’s praises of my speech as I follow him down the hall. Buttoning my coat to busy myself with something. 

“I had a question fer you,” I begin and he encourages me to continue. “I used t’ have an employee by tha name o’ Rebecca Holte at tha firm. I see she’s in yer class I jus’ spoke t’.”

“Oh, Becky? She worked for you? My, that doesn’t surprise me at all. She knows quite a bit about law and it shows in her work. She’s already been in the program, having dropped out a few years prior. But she’s doing really great. One of my best students. I know she’ll make a fantastic lawyer,” he says, shuffling along in his gray coat. Briefcase and thermos in hand.

“Yeah, I do too . . . I didn’ know she enrolled ‘gain in tha program,” I say, choosing my words carefully. The feelings of delayed elation and surprise coming with those words peek at the edge of my sadness. Even though I’m not sure how to phrase them with the chaotic state of my mind at the moment. 

“She started back again this Fall. Has about 30 credits left to go, I reckon. She’s plugging right along, even with her dad’s diagnosis.”

“Yeah, I heard ‘bout that from a coworker. ‘s a right shame. How’s she handlin’ it?” I question, looking up from the tiled floor to meet his eyes framed by graying brows. 

“Oh just fine. Her work is still just as strong. She’s always a light in our discussions, contributing her experience to the topic. I only see her twice a week and we don’t talk very much, what with having 54 students in her cohort. But I think she’s managing. She’s only needed a few extensions since her father started chemotherapy in September, but I couldn’t ask for a better student. Never skips a lecture. Participates. She communicates with me when she needs help. And she’s had a good effect on the class, and has already made some friends in the cohort. She’s going to need those with the tougher classes coming up, and with her dad’s diagnosis,” he informs me. I nod along with his words, savoring them as they’re about her. I itch to ask him about the fellow with his arm around her, but I resist, knowing it wouldn’t be appropriate. 

“Maybe she’ll come back to work for you after the Bar. Circle of Life, eh?” Rich laughs, bumping shoulders with me. I thank him, nodding along with his joke.

We say goodbyes before parting ways. I step back into the chilling rain and he walks into another classroom of students. For shits and giggles, I scan the hallway before leaving. I don’t see her, even though I knew I wouldn’t. 

Pulling up the collar of my coat, I hurry fast through the growing puddles and soggy leaves. Shivering, I hide my hands away in my pockets. I shake my head and take them back out. Removing a ring from my left hand, I slide it onto a different finger with relief. That feels better, I think inwardly before my hands are welcomed by the dryness of my pockets once again. 

Shuffling through the cold rain, I put another step and another between her and me. “Fook,” I mutter aloud when a thought appears in my head. 

I wonder when the next time is that I’ll see her, if ever, it says with a sting. 

+

“Bloody hell, it’s coming down out there,” a voice says, pulling me from my thoughts. Looking up, I find Asher walking towards me. 

Getting up from my chair, I walk over and hug him. 

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” he comments, sliding off his brown jacket.

“No, I only got here a few minutes ago. That snow is no joke.”

“No kidding,” he agrees, taking a seat across the small table from me. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been uh, fine. I’m sorry I’m so bad at replying to texts, things have been crazy.”

“That’s okay, I understand. How has chemo been going for your dad?” Asher asks, trying to tame his crazy hat hair. 

“I guess as good as you can expect it to, with all of the vomiting and other shit it brings. I bought him a bunch of thick shirts and jumpers the other day. He’s even colder without his hair and all the weight he’s lost,” I reply glumly, flipping through the pages of my menu. 

“I’m really sorry, Becky-.”

“I know, it’s okay. Thanks,” I stop him, patting his hand. Something unspoken passes between us. He nods with a small smile. “I’m sorry, it’s just that this is a nice little escape from everything going on. I don’t mean to be rude, but I kinda wanna keep it that way.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize,” Asher says after drinking from his glass of water. A smile curls his lips upward and a little laugh joins us. I ask him ‘what’ and watch a blush color his cheeks. “It’s actually kind of a relief, because I’m always bad at talking about that stuff. I never know the right thing to say, and then I just feel bad the whole time because of it.”

“Thanks for telling me that, and you always do a good job, so shut up,” I tell him, squeezing his hand before we fall into another laugh together. 

“Sooo, what’s new with you since the last time we got lunch? When was that, like in September? When there wasn’t snow on the ground?” 

“Yeah, something like that. Um, not much. Dad’s been doing chemo as you know, and after he’s done with this round, he has surgery. Um, I just wrote a huge paper about serial killing for Criminology which was um, interesting. I got to shadow a local lawyer for a day before then. We studied some pretty disturbing cases in Crim, worked on writing some arguments, and that’s about it,” I confess, my words ending in a laugh. With the next words on the tip of my tongue, they’re stolen away when the waitress arrives to take our order. 

She leaves a pint and a soda for us, making me wish I’d ordered something warm. 

“Sorry, was there more you wanted to say?” Asher asks, bringing the foamy pint to his lips. 

“Uh yeah, I guess,” I answer nervously, smoothing out the square napkin my drink sits on. “Guess who came and talked to my class the other day?” 

“Who?” 

“Harry,” I tell him. Looking up to meet his eyes, I press my lips together in a silent ‘Yeah, I couldn’t believe it, either.’

“You should’ve seen that one coming. I’ve heard he’s done those uni talks for years,” Asher chuckles, pulling a scoff from my lips. But it only encourages him, and his melodic laugh tickles my ears. 

“Yeah I know, but it hit me out of left field. I wanted to hide under my seat, and at the same time, I enjoyed it.” 

“What, do you like him again now? Damn, make up your mind,” Asher teases, and I nod. 

“I know, I know. But he sent me a really nice card . . After I cried to him on the phone about my dad after a bottle of wine. And I don’t know, he was his charming self when he spoke to my class,” I try to explain, hearing an ‘Oh, I’m so surprised’ from Asher. I shake my head with a nervous smile. “I know, but I couldn’t stop eating it up just like everybody else. Ugh, what is wrong with me?”

“A lot of things, but I don’t think we have enough time today to cover those,” he quips. I laugh, mirroring his smile. 

“You know, I like the blonde beard you have going on,” I tease him, drawing an imaginary line around my mouth. 

“Oh shut up. I’m trying it out, okay?” he says in defense, holding his pint up. His nervous smile paints crinkles by his eyes. Along with pink on his hairy cheeks. 

Shaking his head, he sets his pint down before adjusting the salmon collar of his zip-up sweater. 

“It’s fine with me,” I say, holding my hands up in defense. His laugh fills my ears as I reach for my soda. 

A silence fills the space between us, for lack of better words. The telly above the nearby bar fills our silence, along with the chattering of the lunch crowd. 

“He was wearing a ring, Asher,” I say slowly, my voice absent of smiles and laughs. Daring to look, I meet eyes with him. They’re soft and serious now as he takes a pull from his pint of beer. “On his ring finger,” I finish with one of those smiles you force to assure them you’re okay, even though you’re not.

Twirling my straw in the sea of dark soda and ice, I wait. But then I can’t wait any longer. “Do you know if-.”

“I don’t, Becky. I’m sorry. I hardly see him, since I’m on the other side in I.T.,” he begins, walking over my words. But I welcome it, the saving. “I wish I could say I’d have heard about a wedding or engagement, but I don’t really hear anything about him. The few times I’ve seen him I haven’t paid close attention. But you know, maybe it just didn’t fit on any other finger.” I nod in silence, trying to deflect the emotions. Wishing I could drown them in the fizzing soda I stare into. They only hurt more when I realize that I can’t. 

“I hate that I even care, but all of a sudden I did again when my dad told me about his cancer. I wanted to run to Harry and tell him. I don’t know why, after everything I went through,” I reveal with difficulty. “And then I called him when I was drunk, because I had this strange desire to. I hardly remember it, or try not to, and then that damn card came in the mail. And messed everything up,” I confess, covering my eyes with my hands. 

“Yeah, feelings are just great, aren’t they?” Asher quips with tension throughout his voice. 

Somehow I laugh and drop my hands to find him staring at his drink. “See, that’s what I was saying before. People get sad in front of me and ask for advice. And I-I just . . . gum up. And start telling jokes, like Chandler Bing, because I don’t know what the fuck else to do.”

“It’s okay. I like the reality check,” I tell him, smiling. He nods gratefully, wiping the beery foam from his upper lip. 

“Do you think it means anything, you caring about him again all of a sudden again?”

“Well, if I said I stopped caring about him, I’d be lying. That’s what fucking got me here,” I reply honestly. The waitress appears at that exact moment with our appetizer.

I couldn’t be happier for the rescue from my own words. 

But it scares me to say them out loud, because that’s when they become real on a whole other level. And I’m already struggling to accept the “feeling them” part. 

After hugging Asher with tummies full of pizza, I rush to my car. Finally escaping the blustery wind, I close the door. Huffing out a ghost of a breath, I crank the heating in my car. Closing my eyes, I sit back and wait for it to warm up. Then a memory I forgot about until Asher reminded me of it comes back to me. It starts unfolding inside of my head before I can stop it.

“Do I have any messages?” somebody asks. 

Looking up from my cup of tea, I find Harry smiling above me. Now that is an odd sight indeed.

“Um no, you don’t have any messages, Mr. Styles,” I reply, folding my hands in my lap awkwardly. “Why the big smile?”

His hard green eyes meet mine, but they soften. Raising his eyebrows at me, his lips melt into a smile. “I said t’ call me Harry. And I jus’ finished talkin’ t’ a class of law students, somethin’ I always enjoy,” he answers, walking away from the table where I sit. 

“Yes, Harry . . What do you enjoy about it?” I ask, stirring the spoon in circles. Watching the little tornado form in the brown liquid, I wait for his answer. I’m not sure how a crabby pants like him would enjoy having anything to do with uni students. 

With the shuffling of moving food around in the fridge, he says, “”s just great t’ see new faces comin’ into law. Their enthusiasm ’s unmatched too, ‘cause they ‘ave dis love fer law that I dunno how many lawyers even ‘ave anymo’. ‘Cause o’ that, they hang onto yer every word.”

“And they probably flirt with you too, I bet,” I joke softly. I raise my head at a noise, watching him pour a cup of tea. But that’s not the noise. It’s his tittering laugh that I’ve only heard a few times now. 

“Um,” he struggles, laughing nervously. “I can’t deny that, nor confirm it.”

“You liar! They sooooo flirt with you!” I counter.

“An’ what would make ya say that?” Harry asks, turning to face me. 

Cocking an eyebrow, he challenges me, and yanks my answer away. Or any kind of answer I had. But I definitely can’t say that I think that because I’m a college-aged female who thinks he’s cute. Well, more than cute, but I’m trying not to let myself get that far. But it’s hard to deny my feelings, when his mere presence or even name puts butterflies in my stomach. 

“Ah, not so confident anymo’, now are we?” he smirks. I laugh too, shaking my head and letting it fall. I worry he can already read my answer from my expression. But I try not to worry. I’m relieved when he doesn’t blurt my answer into thin air. That would make it even more real. “No, yer right. They do it quite a lot - flirt with me. It depends on tha class, an’ well, how many girls are innit. Sometimes ’s not so bad, an’ otha times ’s annoyin’, ‘cause well, I have a girlfriend. An’ ‘m there t’ talk to ‘em ‘bout law, not t’ get their phone numba,” he finishes. Again, he rips the words right from my mouth with his own. Because he had to bring her up. Amber. And ruin the blissful ignorance I had for the moment, forgetting that he has a girlfriend. 

Fuck.

Bringing the steaming cup of tea to my lips, I try to drown my words with it. Staring at the table, I don’t know what words there are left to say besides, “Yeah, I suppose that could be hard.”

“Oh yes, very awkward at times,” Harry responds, setting his tea down on the counter before walking away. “I mean, ‘s like I can’t outright tell ‘em I don’ want their numba. It’d all stop there if I did, but I can’ really go there.”

“Yeah, that would probably just make it even more awkward,” I drone on.

“‘Xactly,” he responds. My eyes follow him as they often do. His actions bring a question to my lips. 

“Since when do you do puzzles?” I ask after watching him fiddle with the 500 piecer lying at the other end of the table. “I didn’t know you were getting that old.”

“Oh, hush you. ‘m barely older than yerself,” he smiles, trying to connect two pieces of the Autumn puzzle.

“Really, and how old am I again?” I say sarcastically, testing him. An accidental smile tickles at his lips, but he tries to hold it back. It breaks loose after he slowly looks over at me. “You have no idea, do you?!” I exclaim, voice rising by a few octaves.

His face dissolves into an embarrassed laugh. “What? ‘m sorry. Ya look so young!”

“Wow, good excuse!” I respond, rising from my chair. Soon I’m staring down at puzzle pieces standing next to him. “I’m 24 by the way, only three years younger than you.”

“Oh yeahhhh, dat sounds familiar now,” he replies knowingly.

“Sure it does,” I mutter, trying to place a piece but it doesn’t fit. 

“Why ya sayin’ ‘m old? ‘m only 27, ya know. Tha’s not old.”

“You’re more closer to 30 than you are to 20. Now, how does that make you feel?” I pose to him. With an ‘aha,’ I fit a piece to complete a pumpkin sitting on a doorstep. 

“Old . . . Hey now, that was rude,” Harry counters, giving me a sad look. It only makes me smile a little bit. 

Picking up a piece splattered with shades of yellow, I accidentally bump shoulders with him. 

“Yeah, well you’re working your way to being an old man. Doing puzzles and not liking uni students,” I divulge, feeling the edge to my voice. But the words couldn’t sit on my tongue any longer. 

“Heeeeey, I neva said I disliked uni students. Jus’ . . . some o’ ‘em are irritatin’ an’ far too flirty. Bloody hell, wha’s gotten into you t’day, love?” Harry chirps.

“That’s what you get for not remembering how old I am, and for calling me young. Do you know how many times I still get carded?” I groan somewhat jokingly. Setting down that piece, I forget it by picking up another. I scoff when Harry giggles after fitting another piece in. 

“Don’ be so sensitive, Becky. I bet I could even tell ya when yer birthday ‘s,” he bets. Looking up curiously, I meet his playful eyes. 

“I bet you couldn’t,” I challenge him. 

His cherry lips bend into an effortless smile. My eyes leave them when his hand comes into view. Pulling away the strand of hair from in front of my eyes, I follow his fingers when he tucks it behind my ear. “June fifteenth,” he mumbles softly. Trying to push away the blush warming my cheeks, I clear my throat. 

Nodding, I smile and say, “Good job. You got one right for once.” Breaking the special yet awkward eye contact, I look back to the puzzle. 

“I can rememba birthdays fine, ‘m jus’ not good at tha age thing.”

“Mmmm. I guess lawyers only have to be good at remembering dates,” I comment smiling. With a huff, I drop my piece of the puzzle and return to my chair. 

“Yeah, tha’s an important bit. What, ya give up already?” Harry replies. He bites his bottom lip as he looks at the lonely pieces, eyebrows in a tangle. 

“I don’t have the patience for puzzles.”

“Tha’s why ya only work at ‘em a li’l bit atta time. A few pieces, an’ then ya do a few more in an hour or so. Wheneva yer bored. My gran’ likes t’ do ‘em while she’s watchin’ tha telly, or in between chores,” he reveals, distracted by a blue jigsaw piece. 

“Mmmmmm, that’s a good idea,” I tell him. Scrolling through my phone, I exit out of Instagram after tiring of seeing everybody post relationship pictures. 

With a jealous sigh, I lock my phone and lose myself in my boring cup of tea. Again. Wondering when the puzzle pieces of my life will fall together, like it seems so many others have. 

The people on Instagram. 

Even Harry’s, I think as I steal a peek at him. 

Swallowing, I suddenly think of the puzzle piece I want to find most of all. And that perhaps it’s not that I haven’t found it yet, it’s because it doesn’t fit, I realize as my eyes study him. Hands in hair. Chunky rings on his fingers. A pastel suit on. And a contagious smile on his face. All of this ignites another swarm of butterflies within my tummy. 

If only he fit into the puzzle that’s my life. 

+

Yawning, I rub my eyes. I sit up, wincing at sore spots from the uncomfortable chair. Unbelievably, the clock reads only 8:39 pm. It feels much later than that, I think, but after the events of today, I was tired at 4 o’clock. Habitually peeking at the black screen by the bed, I feel relief when I see his steady numbers. Blood pressure. Heart rate. Oxygen levels. The rhythmic beeping assures me all is well too, but I don’t feel that way when I look down at my dad. I can’t see his blue eyes, because they’re still closed. There are all of these wires on him, and a tube down his throat. It’s already hard enough to see, without arguing in the background.

“For the love of christ, would you two stop it? If you’re going to do it, do it in the bloody hallway,” I snap at them. Getting up from my chair, I grab my purse and leave. 

Ignoring the sound of my name, I keep walking until I no longer hear it. I had to get out. They were crying and fighting and the doctor’s words weren’t making sense anymore. I just can’t take it anymore, like a typical tv show character would say. My steps echo down the hallway as the guilt eats away at me with every step. Emotions run around inside of me. 

Anguish one moment. 

Then frustration. 

Overwhelmed. 

Frustrated. 

Tired. 

Fed up. 

Sad. 

Mad. 

The humming welcomes me first, before I arrive in front of the line of vending machines that have been my sole solace during my time here. The number of visits being more than I can remember. The fluorescent lights advertising the packaged goods burns, and yet calms my eyes. Hmmm, what shall we have today, Becky? Sour gummy worms? Chocolate cupcakes? Doritos? Salted nut rolls? Granola bars? 

“Don’ get tha chocolate chip cookies. They look far betta than they actually are,” a voice suggests from behind me. There’s a spark of something inside the walls of my brain during the second before I turn around. “Trust me, I was tha one who wasted a few pounds on ‘em,” they continue. 

I watch the last few words leave the lips of its owner after I slowly turn around. Those cherry lips reach higher to the sky the longer I stand there. I watch the dimples crease his cheeks. The eyes I’ve looked into and missed too many times to count, crinkle with his smile. 

[nonsensicalobsessions]

A Symphony without Strings, Chapter 6

Today’s musical program will be varied once more. So much music will be going on! I do not know how many of you are participating in the musical adventure, and which service you are using, YouTube or Spotify. Since several of the pieces I wish to use are only available on YouTube, I will use that platform exclusively this chapter. If anyone has an objection, please let me know...but there is only one chapter following this one, Symphony ticket holders, and then the coda...Like the previous chapter, I will insert the selection at the appropriate scene, and you can simply loop it until the next piece is indicated. I hope you enjoy today’s musical arrangement.

Trigger warning: Leukemia

First selection: https://youtu.be/UfWT_7dTAtI

                                                      *** *** *** ***

Kelly did not hesitate to begin. Merry was hooked up to a machine within hours to begin having her blood drawn, her T cells filtered out, and have the remaining blood returned. The process did not take long, simply a few hours. Once completed, Kelly leaned against Merry’s bed and cocked her head to the side.

“Well now darlin’, before we infuse you with the new an’ improved T cells, we’re gonna hit you with another blast of chemo, to clean out as much garbage out of your veins as we can.”

Merry did not look happy at the thought of another round of chemo, but she didn’t argue, just nodded her head as she stared out the window. Kelly leaned towards and took her hand. 

“Honey, you’re gonna have to be here for a couple of weeks. I know it’s gonna be rough, and no one can get in your skin and take it for you, but I am going to work overtime to make it as easy as I can...and you have people who love you and will support you as much as you will let them. The question is, are you going to let them? I seem to have heard you giving Aiden a lot of push back in the past.”

“Aiden had Liam. Liam was all that mattered,” Merry replied, a touch of defiance in her voice.

“Maybe so, but now Tom has Merry, so now Merry is all that matters,” Tom responded, his voice gentle, but with the same touch of firmness he used with Liam. Merry’s eyes shot towards him, her expression challenging.

Tom leaned forward so their foreheads were touching. “Hello, Missouri Mule. Meet Tom Hiddleston, bane of Luke Windsor’s patience and scourge of his peace of mind.”

Merry smiled. She couldn’t resist.

Liam was unhappy to hear Mama was going to be in the hospital for almost a month at least, probably longer. He knew she would try to video call him frequently, but he also knew there would be a lot of days she would be so sick and sleepy she would barely be able to speak with him. When he stopped to think about this, his tummy felt funny, it hurt a lot and he felt like he might throw up and cry all at the same time. Both Mama and Aiden were always telling him to talk about how he felt, but it didn’t make the feelings go away.

When Papa came home without Mama, he looked tired, sad, and worried. Supper was quiet, and everyone went to bed early. Aiden read him his story, but his voices weren’t as fun as they usually were. Liam understood.

“Hey, kiddo.” Liam looked up into Aiden’s eyes. He had been looking down at his two bears, one Mama had given him, and one Papa had. “Your Mama has done this a lot, she’s a virtuosa, you could say. You shouldn’t worry about her. She’s more worried about you, did you know that?”

Liam squinted up at Aiden. “Why’s Mama worryin’ about me? You’re taking care of me like you always do, and we’re gonna do the same things we always do. We’re going to be ok...but I’m gonna miss Mama...” and his bottom lip started to tremble as his voice wobbled.

Aiden gathered him into a hug. “And it’s that, right there, that has your Mama worrying. She loves you so much, she hates to think of you being sad. She wants you to be happy, always.”

Liam pulled away, his usually cheerful countenance marred with a scowl. “Can’t be happy without Mama here, how can I be happy when Mama’s stuck in that ol’ hospital and she can’t be home with us? Stupid medicine! Stupid leuk...leuk...I hate Mama being sick all the time, I want her to get better!”

Liam burst into tears borne of grief, anger, frustration, and fear.

Aiden breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted Liam to cry it out. So much had happened, and Liam was just a little boy...he heard Tom’s door opening with a crash, and his feet, oh dear...

If Merry was a virtuosa in this wretched treatment, Tom had barely had his first few lessons.

As soon as Tom came in the door, Aiden made a calming gesture with his hand. “Softly, softly,” he mouthed, as he continued to gently soothe Liam’s impassioned sobbing.

Tom had been lying in bed, his arm flung over his eyes, remembering his conversation with Merry before he left:

“Tom, it’s going to be hard, in fact I will go so far as to say it’s going to suck. But I’ve played this concerto before, I daresay I’ve even conducted this orchestra before. I’ve got this. I have my bag of tricks, I know how to get around the worst of it. Please, please, be there for Liam. Knowing he’s well and happy will do so much for me...”

He reached out and stroked her face. “Merry, do you mean to forbid me to see you? Are you planning on going through this alone? Tell me, sweetheart, who was with you all the other times? It wasn’t Aiden, it couldn’t have been. It wasn’t your family. No one has mentioned any other friends. Did you go through chemotherapy alone, each and every time...? Merry...”

She looked at him, smiled and shrugged. “Alone, not alone...there were always nurses, and I could always close my eyes, and escape into my head, I have my headphones, my music, my imagination...come, Tom, you know how easily I can slip into my head, and how difficult it is for me to get out of it sometimes! I would practice, even if I didn’t have an instrument, I could conduct, even if I was completely alone, I could compose, even if I never remembered note from note.”

“Not this time, Meredith,” he vowed. “I will be there for Liam, but I will be there for you as well. I will talk with Aiden, and see what he advises, so you can’t fret, Mama Bear.”

She was already falling asleep, but she grinned. “We’ll see, Papa Bear, we’ll see...”

When Tom heard Liam’s crying, it was if he had been jolted with a live current. He’d never heard Liam cry before, and the boy sounded heartbroken. Tom launched from his bed, completely forgetting Aiden was two steps away, and had been with Liam since the little boy drew his first breath. His son was crying. This being a father thing was so new, he scarcely knew what he was doing moment to moment, but right now, he knew his son was crying.

Seeing Liam caught in Aiden’s arms, he froze. Tom felt superfluous, and shattered. His heart was aching so profoundly, there was a part of him that wanted to weep as openly as Liam. Aiden was advising him to calm down, and he wasn’t sure if he could.

Aiden beckoned him to sit besides him, and that is how Liam found himself transferred into another pair of arms, as he hiccuped and trembled as a child does in the aftermath of hard sobbing. Aiden was still rubbing his back, but Liam looked up and saw his Papa was now holding him close. This was new. The crying when Mama left for the hospital, that happened, but Papa being here...

“’m glad you’re here,” Liam mumbled, scrubbing his eyes with his fists.

“I’m glad I’m here, as well,” Papa answered, and kissed Liam’s hair, which was definitely curly now. Mama would have gotten him a haircut by this point.

“Papa, did you know Mama was sick?”

“No, Liam. I didn’t. It makes me so sad, knowing she was sick and I wasn’t there to help her.”

Liam looked up into Papa’s face and saw that yes, Papa’s face still looked just as sad, tired, and worried as it did when he came back earlier, maybe even more so. He reached up and touched it, shyly. Papa looked down into Liam’s eyes, and gave him a special smile...Liam was reminded of the way Mama would smile at him sometimes. It made him start to feel a little better.

“You know, Papa...we have a secret, Aiden and I. Mama doesn’t know about it.”

“Oh, is that so?” Papa looked at Aiden, his lips twitching. “And what could this secret be? If it is about licking the bowl after you make cakes...”

“You told?” Aiden teased Liam, ticking his feet lightly. 

“No, just Papa...but Mama was there, uh-oh...”

“It’s fine, Liam,” Papa laughed, his voice low and warm. “If that isn’t the secret, then what could it be?”

“Aiden, can we tell Papa?”

“Oh, I think we must,” Aiden answered him seriously. “Because your Papa is going be a part of it, as well...”

Papa leaned back against Liam’s headboard to give Liam his undivided attention as Liam explained. “When Mama is away at the hospital like she is sometimes, and we miss her a lot, we watch The Secret Mama Movie.”

“The Secret Mama Movie? Your Mama never told me she was a movie star, although it’s true I did meet her...” Tom stopped himself abruptly, and cursed himself as ten different kinds of a fool. Clumsy, stupid, foolish...he had no idea if Merry had ever told Liam how they had first met, or what Tom did for a living, or anything, and Liam was far too bright to miss a thing...

Liam, true to form, lit up like a Christmas tree. “You met Mama because she was a movie star?!”

“No, no...” Tom looked to Aiden for help, but as usual, Aiden had his arms folded, and was grinning at him, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “Um, I met your mother because of a movie...but please, tell me more about The Secret Mama Movie, I am very interested.”

“Oh...” Liam looked disappointed. “That would have been neat, if Mama had been in a movie for real.” Tom shifted uneasily on the bed, while keeping Liam tucked in his arms, pressed against his chest as he did so. Liam pulled away, tears forgotten so he could look into his father’s face. “Aiden’s known Mama for a real long time, and they went to school together, and he used to see her when she would practice to have recitals...did you ever see any of Mama’s recitals?”

Tom looked at Liam, and gently cupped his son’s face. “Only one,” he whispered softly. “Only one...”

Liam didn’t understand why Papa was looking at him so tenderly, he just babbled on, “Well, he used to record her. She knew he was doing it, so that isn’t the secret. Sometimes she was even talking to him while he was doing it. Then after I was born, he would record her while she was playing lullabies for me! And then, sometimes she would learn pieces because she was tired of the pieces she had to learn for school, and she would learn them just for funsies, and he thought she was so good, he would record those too...he thought she was really good, and she didn’t, and he wanted her to see just how good she was...and then she had a big big recital right before she graduated, and the school recorded that...”

Aiden interrupted, rubbing the back of his neck. “I promise you, Tom, Merry know about these, I’m no stalker,” he spoke quickly, his face uncomfortably red. “That’s not the secret, either!”

Liam rolled his eyes as expressively as a four year old can. “Nooo, the secret is that Liam got all of these together from all the different places and put it together into one big movie. The Secret Mama Movie. She doesn’t know he did it. But we can watch it and see her and listen to her, every night she isn’t here. It isn’t the same, but...”

Tom looked at Liam, at Aiden, and at Liam again. He spoke very, very quietly. “You get to see Mama play, every night?”

“Uh huh! And she had hair sometimes, and she was wasn’t always tired, and she was laughing, and sometimes she even sings!” Liam was both reverent and thrilled to be letting Papa in on this secret. “But we can’t let Mama know. She doesn’t like to see or hear herself on TV.”

“I can understand that,” Tom muttered, laughing to himself.

“E’scuse me?” Liam cocked his head to the side. Mama was very strict about his not saying just “what,” when he didn’t understand.

“I was trying to say that I can understand, even though your mother is so talented, she would not strike me as one to wish to see herself on the television.”

“But why not, Papa?”

“I imagine it is because she would only look at her performance and see the ways she could have improved, rather than all the ways she excelled...because she always wishes to learn more. Your mother is brilliant, and she loves music, loves playing her instruments, and being the moment. Seeing it captured, though...well, that’s something else,” Tom stopped, recognizing he was getting too philosophical, no matter how intelligent his son was, he was still only four. He wanted to get lost in a memory of himself and Merry, it was at the forefront of his mind, but this was not the time...he shook his head.

“We can watch it tomorrow, Papa,” Liam promised him, snuggling into his chest again. “That way we can all enjoy it together. Just us men.”

Tom closed his eyes and grinned broadly, thankful that Liam couldn’t see his face. “Sounds splendid, son. I am so thankful to hear that Aiden has done such hard work. Thank you, Aiden.”

Aiden had been beaming as well, but it faded. “I did it for a number of reasons,” he admitted, looking at Liam. “There was a point where I thought it might be...very necessary.”

Tom looked down at the little boy who was still curled up against him, and swallowed hard. He understood all too well why such a movie might have been required...as a memorial...a retrospective of a brilliant musician...but most importantly, a way for a boy to see a mother he might not have ever remembered. Thank God that was not the case.

Aiden added, “I also have some footage of her conducting, it isn’t just of her playing instruments. I thought it was very important that Liam see her at the pinnacle of her professional achievement. We’ve all seen her play, but God, Tom...her joy when she conducts...she all but self-illuminates. I can’t believe she doesn’t levitate.”

Tom was ruffling Liam’s hair, feeling him get heavier as he was slowly losing the fight against sleep. “Aiden, how long is this movie?”

“Longer than you would think. Take a guess.”

“Before you mentioned the conducting, I would have said, half an hour? That is quite a lot of time of playing...”

“Think again. Almost two hours,” Aiden snickered, proud of himself. “Almost two solid hours of Merry playing the cello...violin...piano...conducting. You know our Merry, never content unless she was...is...making music in one way or another. That’s how it was so easy when we were still in university. It’s how she managed to keep her mind off the nausea when she was carrying that one there.” Aiden nodded at Liam, who was now asleep against Tom’s chest, mouth open, and snuffling slightly. “I did my best to encourage her, and keep her laughing. Once everyone in the department was clued into her condition, they were right there with me. For all she was so intensely private with her personal affairs, she was still so...well, she’d murder me fo saying it...merry with others. A smile, a laugh, a little pick-me-up with someone she knew was struggling. When she turned up pregnant, no one could believe it, no one had ever seen her with anyone, she had never mentioned anyone, well, there were some unkind comments about virgin births all over again.” 

Tom’s eyes flashed both in anger and shame. “I never attempted to keep her from meeting up with classmates, nor did I try to keep us a great secret.”

Aiden shook his head. “I know, Tom. Merry was all about reaching out but never taking back. I’ve known her longer than you, at least by name and face. But I didn’t really know her. No one did, except that she was wildly talented, deeply focused, and so private. So once there was an ‘in,’ a way people could actually gain access to her, even if it was to encourage those impromptu recitals in the halls, a way to make her laugh a bit while I could video her on my phone...it helped. But still, she never let anyone in, not really.”

Tom took a breath, then asked, “Aiden, may I watch the movie privately, so when I see it with Liam, it isn’t the first time?”

Aiden nodded. “You know, that’s a really good idea. Let’s get this one tucked in, and I’ll get it to you.”

Aiden handed a DVD to Tom, who was surprised to see that it looked professionally marketed, instead of just something handwritten in permanent marker. “Aiden...this is incredible.”

“I told you, I wasn’t sure what it was going to be used for when I made it, and I wanted it done right,” Aiden deflected. “It helps having friends in the right places. Um, if you want, I could watch it with you, and explain some things. Or maybe you just want to watch it yourself. It’s up to you.”

Tom deliberated for a moment, then replied, his voice husky, “Aiden, I think it’s best I just see this alone. But thank you.”

“Sure, I understand. You know there’s a TV and player in your room. Good night.” Aiden gave him a half smile and wave, and left.

Tom couldn’t set up the DVD fast enough.

Second selection: https://youtu.be/12r8LCI47WU

Despite the DVD’s appearance, the opening menu was simple, and yet it still took Tom’s breath away. He was so grateful he was watching this without Liam’s alert presence by his side. His screen was filled with a lovely candid photo of his beloved Merry smiling and looking off to the side. Her long hair was loosely pulled back in an ivory ribbon that matched the cable knit sweater she was wearing (he remembered that sweater), and her cello was resting against her jean clad knee as she sat in a chair. He didn’t recognize the haunting and lovely background music, but he had no doubt it was Merry who was performing it. But the puzzling aspect was at the bottom right corner of the screen, the simple words, “The Tom Edition.” Perhaps this is what Aiden wished to explain?

The only option he had was to press “PLAY.”

Third selection: https://youtu.be/lrE5CC1up3s

It began with Merry sitting at a piano and playing, her fingers rippling across the keys smoothly. Someone called, “Skye, are you ready, can we get started?” But she did not reply, she simply kept playing, her body moving as an extension of the notes, clearly caught up in the music. Another voice sighed, “Ah, we’ve lost her again.” A third voice retorted, “We never had her in the first place, once she starts, she’s gone, you know that. You can either let her finish, go shake her, or physically move her. I’d suggest waiting if I were you. Even if you interrupt her, her mind is just going to keep playing once she commits to it.” The unseen onlookers fell silent until Merry played the last note, and she sighed and leaned back. The first voice called out, “Skye! We’re waiting on you, c’mon already!” Tom could see her come back to herself, and she called back, “Sorry! Here I come!” She rose, and walked away from the piano. Tom could see a slight swell in her abdomen, but he was looking for it. Her face was paler than usual, and she looked tired.

Fourth selection: https://youtu.be/3wzZtuo3MHU (does not require looping)

The next video had her standing in a hallway, there was a lot of laughter, and someone finally shouted, “No way, Skye, I dare you.” She had her back to the camera and challenged, “You wanna go there? Really, McIntyre? You sure about that?”

A voice, apparently McIntyre, riposted, “Skye, you’re talented on the cello, I’ll give you that, but no way can you bring that kind of heat on the violin. You just don’t have it.”

Aiden’s voice at the camera level called out, “Ten bucks, McIntyre. Put up or shut up.”

Merry turned around, and she was looking just as tired, but fuller around the waistline. “Forget the ten bucks. McIntyre, if I pull this off, you owe me some fried chicken. This kiddo is calling for some fried chicken...and some pumpkin pie.”

“Pumpkin pie? Skye, you’re crazy, there’s no pumpkin pie this time of year!”

Merry was tuning her violin and sighed, “Okay, just fried chicken then...”

Tom whispered, his eyes already filling, “Darling, I would have found some for you, I swear I would have,” as Merry launched into the brightest, fastest tune he had ever heard. It was clearly a Celtic jig, Tom couldn’t identify it, and the hall filled with hoots and laughter as her notes, triumphant and commanding, wrapped around all present, someone began beating on their instrument case to add percussion, there was clapping, and Tom found himself longing for his spoons. 

Merry put her violin and bow down and grinned. “Extra crispy, McIntyre. I prefer drumsticks, thighs, and wings. Hop to, Capriccio is hungry.”

A laughing voice teased, “Only you would call your unborn child ‘Capriccio.’”

“Well, I won’t call my child ‘Bagatelle,’ because by definition that can also mean ‘unimportant’. And my child is very, very important to me,” Merry replied seriously. “And my child is certainly encouraging improvisation, among other things...McIntyre, why the devil are you still here?!”

The scene faded, and Tom found himself laughing, and he spoke, “Merry, you damned well better have gotten your fried chicken, or else I will hunt this McIntyre down and call him out...”

There were then a dizzying array of clips where Merry was playing in recitals, master classes, where her skills with the cello left Tom lost in admiration. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms. He longed to tell her, repeatedly, how awed he was by her talent, her passion, the way she immersed herself, completely, in her music. Tom would watch as the woman he loved would somehow willingly walk into another dimension, where she would speak another language with truth and honesty, and all the strength she possessed.  Once she entered it, the music was all that mattered.

Fifth selection: https://youtu.be/bSWxjcAAPL8

After were the symphonies. These were clearly professionally recorded works. Tom couldn’t always see what he wanted, which was Merry’s face, but he could make out her small form. The lush curves of her figure he had loved so passionately were gone, he noted, and a sick feeling arose in his gut. Was she already ill at this point? Was she aware? But as the camera would show her face, Tom saw what Aiden had referred to: Merry was clearly transported. It was as though she was pulling the music out from each section of the orchestra, weaving the notes like tapestry on a loom only she could see, creating a masterpiece. This was what she had longed to do, this was what she had spoken of longingly when they were entwined on her small bed, as they compared their dreams and ambitions while the snow fell outside, leaving them cocooned in the warmth of blankets and each other. 

Tom thought about how he felt when he performed Shakespeare, the otherworldly plane he stepped into each time he entered the stage and began to breathe life into his character, giving words and poetry action and meaning, the high he felt when the curtain closed...and knew, without a shadow of a doubt, Merry was also able to animate what others would see as mere ink on a page. It was real. It was true. It was her dream. And it was her soul. Tears were running down her face as he saw her expression when the last note sounded. 

She was incandescent.

If the movie had been fiction, made in Hollywood, it would have ended there, just for the look on her face.

Sixth selection: https://youtu.be/gCCmaOMo5k8

There were the lullabies. Tom never got to see infant Liam, only occasionally hear his gurgling. Merry’s face was a portrait of tender motherhood as she would play piece after piece, sometimes singing. The setting would change, as would her clothes, but the love on her face stayed the same. But eventually her hair was gone, and her face grew thinner, her clothes larger, and her movements slower.

There were clips of her playing for Liam, then with Liam, as he picked up his violin and scratched out very basic beginner pieces, or plunked away on the piano. Both Aiden and Merry cheered him on, and praised his efforts. 

Merry was now playing different styles of pieces. She would play tunes from Disney films, music that would have Liam belly laughing, giggling, dancing. But on the whole, they were growing slower, and less vigorous.

Seventh Selection: Reader’s choice--Instrumental: https://youtu.be/ZyFyapc3q9g OR original vocals by Enya: https://youtu.be/DFHaGBSyPr4 

The last clip began with a darkened room. Tom heard cello music playing but could see nothing.

“Merry?” Aiden’s voice. “What are you doing?”

“Can’t sleep. Can’t think. Can’t, Aiden...so tired...I’m so tired...”

Tom’s attention was riveted before, but now all of his synapses were firing. Merry’s voice was trembling. She sounded so weak, as though she was at the end of her tether...he had never heard Merry like this, ever. This was the most intensely personal piece yet, and he understood now, why this was “The Tom Edition.” Aiden would never allow Liam to hear his mother suffering like this.

“Then put the bow down. Just put the bow down and close your eyes for a little while.”

“Aiden, when I play these pieces, I don’t have to think...I can just, just be. I fall into the music and rest, so that’s what I’m doing, okay? Please don’t nag me.”

A sigh. “All right, but I’m going to sit and be with you then. I don’t want you collapsing again.”

“No...I don’t want that either.”

There was more gentle, soft music...but then, Merry began to sing, her voice soft, and haunting:

     Night has gone without my tears

     Now I walk alone

     You're no longer here

     The days turn to years

     I could never say goodbye

     To the sadness in my eyes

     You know you are in my heart

     But the miles keep us apart

     Time moves slow

     In the falling rain

     I still dream of you

     And whisper your name

     Will I see you once again?

     I could never say goodbye

     To the sadness in my eyes

     You know you are in my heart

     But the miles keep us apart

     I could never say goodbye

Aiden’s voice spoke in the darkness. “Honey, when are you going to get in touch with Tom? I think you should give the guy a chance. He seems like he’s good man from what I can tell...”

Her voice was filled with tears as she said, “I promised, Aiden. I promised him, no strings.”

Aiden’s voice, filled with sympathy and reproach. “Merry...”

She sighed. “You’re right, Aiden. I’m so tired...I guess it is finally time to...” Her voice broke. “It’s time.”

Eighth selection https://youtu.be/kcMaxo0OaZo (can be looped for as long as desired)

The last clip had no video, it was simply a list of acknowledgements and thanks, while another piece played. Tom was struggling to breathe, let alone read them.

He had no idea Merry had been grieving so keenly. Tom had missed Merry, and wished she was still a part of his life. He refused to allow himself to address his pain, and went on with the business of living. He knew Merry had, as well. But the voice he had just heard, wrapping itself around the cello notes in the absence of light...it went beyond simply acknowledging loss. It spoke of deep mourning.

“I didn’t know, Mozart,” Tom spoke aloud in the empty room. “You seemed so composed when I saw you again...but why should I be surprised? You always buttoned yourself up so tightly when you felt afraid, or threatened in any way.” After her parents had callously dismissed her from their lives, Merry closed off her soft, tender heart, determined never to let herself get hurt again.

After their first kiss that had begun almost tentatively, but quickly built in passion, Tom took both of her hands and looked deeply into her eyes. “Merry, I don’t do things like this lightly...not without a great deal of caring, and commitment...but I can’t give you commitment like you deserve. I am going to leave in less than five months, probably closer to four. Once we’ve completed filming in this area, I am going to leave to complete the movie elsewhere, and from there I am going to be thrust into a huge worldwide press tour. I desperately want to be with you...but you are far too precious for me to treat you carelessly.”

Merry’s smile was bittersweet. “Tom, I care about you as well...I don’t do things like this either, hardly ever...and when I have, it was never anything but casual, because I do not let anyone close to me. At all. I’m not asking for commitment. I just want to be as close to you as I can possibly be.” Wistfully, she lightly placed her hand against his heart, tentatively curling her fingertips as though it was most she dared, the most she expected to be allowed to touch him. “...me, who never wants to be close to anyone. It’s strange, really...” She stepped away from him. “I understand if you want to leave now. No hard feelings.”

He looked at her intensely, as though he was trying to look into her past and her soul. “Who hurt you so badly, Merry? You are much too warm and giving to have closed yourself off so completely. Who hurt you, Meredith Skye?”

She looked away and replied dully, “Life did. Thank you for walking me home.”

Seeing the light extinguished in her eyes, the spirit stripped from her voice, was more than he could take. Tom closed the distance between them, wrapped his arms around her, and drew her into a fiery kiss that not only rekindled the spark within her, but started a conflagration that didn’t stop until it consumed both of them, leaving only softly flickering embers in its wake sometime later.

Holding her body against his, softly stroking her hair, her face, her neck, Tom whispered, “I am going to find it so very, very hard to leave you. I already know this.”

Merry looked into his eyes and replied steadily. “But you will, Tom. You don’t have a choice. You have to leave, and I have to stay. We will have to enjoy the time we have together, cherish it for what it is, and then let each other go...no ties to keep you here...

“No strings.”

In the faint light of the bedroom, Tom pretended not to see the pain in Merry’s eyes as he repeated, “No strings.”

In the days that passed, Tom found that Merry was actually right: Yes, chemotherapy was awful. But she handled it well enough.

She knew which days were likely to be worse than others. She deeply appreciated Tom’s presence, but on bad days she seemed to slip into another headspace. All she wanted was her headphones, and for him to hold her hand. Even then, he would watch as she seemed to play the piano on her lap even if it appeared she was asleep. If she was going to vomit (which she did often) she did so calmly, and from another plane of existence. It was almost as if she wasn’t fully there...although when she would lie back down, she would still reach for his hand, and would occasionally welcome a cool cloth for her face.

One of the nurses took pity on Tom and told him, “Don’t take it personally. She is taking a lot of chemicals into her body, and it is not unusual for them to affect a patient’s personality, speech, memory...some even hallucinate. She’s actually taking this remarkably well.”

“I just want to be there for her,” he replied stubbornly.

“And you are. Just remember to give her what she needs, not what you want, or feel the need, to give her,” the woman advised gently.

Tom had to remind himself of those words frequently in the days to come.

It was the last week of filming, and they were behind schedule, mostly due to unseasonably foul weather that kept them from adhering to the proposed shooting schedule. While part of Tom was secretly overjoyed at the delays, this last week was turning into a hellshoot. Tempers were frayed and raw on all sides, and everyone was exhausted. Over half the crew were sick, and those that weren’t either were just coming down with or just recovering from a series of vicious viruses. So far, Tom had escaped what was being called “The Pestilence” (“plague” being found too passé), but he was almost sleepwalking at one point.

He was trying to spend as much time with Merry as possible, but his schedule was demanding, constantly changing, and hectic. He could never tell from day to day when he would have free time available. He knew better than to ask Merry to come to the set location, and he didn’t have time to track her down on campus. Merry made it a point to always have food waiting for Tom, day or night, along with the fresh fruit and vegetables he craved in order to keep sickness at bay. Sometimes she even shaved hours off her precious practice, class, and sleep hours to be there during the odd hours he was awake, or needing to rest to prepare for odd hour shoots: she found a sure-fire way to lull him to sleep was a certain combination of pieces, played on the cello and violin. He was stunned that she would give her time for this, but she would smile and stroke his hair, promising he was worth it. 

He would float off, warm and utterly at peace, and would be completely unawares after he fell asleep (often faintly snoring), Merry would set her instrument down, and sit beside him, running her fingers through his hair, ensuring his sleep remained deep and even. She knew sometimes his dreams would become agitated when he was stressed, and he would begin tossing fitfully, even talking and crying out in his sleep. At the first sign of any disturbance, she would speak softly to him, soothing him with her words and touch. Within moments, she would ease him back into a peaceful place, and he could rest once more.

When it was the day before he was to leave, Merry slipped out of bed, murmuring she was going to start the kettle. He tried to ignore the pain raging in his heart, and nodded. He had barely set his feet on the floor when a crashing sound sent him running for the kitchen.

There he found Merry on her hands and knees, looking dazed and picking up shards of teacups. “Tom, stop, you’ll cut yourself!”

Oblivious, he knelt besides her. “Sweetheart, are you all right? What happened?”

She shook her head. “I’m not sure...I must have stood up too quickly, I just felt so light headed, the cups, I was on the floor...I must have...”

Tom felt her forehead. “Merry, you’re ice cold and clammy...are you feeling ill?”

“No. No, Tom, I’m fine, just let me have another moment. I’ll clear this mess away and start making tea and...”

Tom looked at her face, and saw how pale she was. “I think not,” he decided, and picked her up carefully, bringing her to the sofa and wrapping them both in a blanket. “I think we shall just sit here for awhile until your color gets better, and you warm up. That’s it, rest your head on my shoulder, darling. I do hope you aren’t getting sick, darling, please, please don’t be getting sick, who will take care of you?” His forehead was creased with worry.

“You precious man,” she indulgently answered him. “The same person as usual, I can recommend her personally. She’s very capable. Quite good, actually. I’ve relied on her for countless years.”

He looked down at her quizzically. She pulled away from him, sensing his confusion.

“Oh, my sweet Tom.” She patted his cheek, and snuggled in with a smile.

It took him an embarrassing amount of time to realize she meant herself.

Kelly was a constant presence, encouraging Merry, supporting Tom.

“Tom, I know it must look bad when she’s throwing her guts up so much, but truly, she’s handling this like a champ,” Kelly told him emphatically. “Her labs are very promising. I was really concerned how she was going to take this, she was so frail when she came in, but she is hanging in there. The better she does now, the more hopeful I am about the way her body will respond the the T cell infusion.” She paused and eyed the way he was pulling his hair if not rubbing the back of his neck or jaw. “Okayyy...you, good sir, look like you either don’t believe me, or are very stressed out.”

“I don’t know how to help her,” Tom burst out at last, mindful of his volume, but his tone was quite clearly agitated. “I can’t hold her. She doesn’t even want to be touched. Tell me what I can do for her, she’s so miserable, and I don’t know what I can do. I would play the guitar for her, but honestly, I don’t think I’m of the quality that would be of any help...”

Kelly thought for a moment. “When she wasn’t playing for you, what did you do for her...and keep it G-rated, please,” she teased. 

Tom felt his face heat as he mumbled, “I’m afraid to even touch her...”

Kelly looked at him and asked, “May I give you a hug?”

Tom nodded, and she wrapped her arms around him, her head coming right under his chin, her hands rubbing his back slowly. “You’re being put through the wringer, big guy. All I can say is you have to be patient. Which you have been. And trust her guidance. She’s been through this before. She doesn’t want to be touched, not because she doesn’t love you anymore, but because her body just hurts. Has she asked you to pack up and go home?”

He shook his head as he and Kelly parted.

“Then she wants you here. Believe me, I’ve heard about Meredith Skye’s temper. If she has something she wants to be said, she doesn’t leave room for doubt.”

Tom frowned. “She wasn’t your patient before now...I don’t understand.”

Kelly’s laugh was nostalgic. “When she informed Dr. Roths’ staff that she was flying out to see you...? He, ah, made the classic mistake, and forbade her to go. I don’t think anyone had ever heard the dressing down the likes she gave to him. I know he certainly hadn’t...they’re probably still replacing the paint she blistered off the walls...” Kelly sighed. “Ah, it was a beautiful thing. Dr. Roths is brilliant, but his people skills definitely need some work. When our Merry was through with him, there might have even been some applause. Might, I say. In a very discreet, surreptitious fashion.”

Tom looked down and laughed.

“She’s done, you know.  With the actual chemo. She just has to recover from it, and we are going to keep a very close eye on her...and by then, it will be showtime. So try and relax. And once she is feeling better?” Kelly looked at him intently. “Do not be afraid to touch her. Are we clear on that? Don’t make that mistake. Love up on her as much as you want. What are you waiting for? Don’t waste time, Tom...we all make that mistake, don’t we?”

Ninth (and today’s final) selection: https://youtu.be/2iovXlPv52s

Merry’s fingers were moving, one hand was by her shoulder, and the other in her lap. Her bed was reclined at an angle, so she didn’t have to lift either arm. Her eyes were closed, and there was a faint smile on her lips.

“Darling? It’s Tom, sweetheart...are you up for some company?”

Her eyes opened readily, and her smile widened as her fingers ceased their movements. “Tom...how lovely to see you. I’m sorry I’ve been out of it for awhile, but I’m feeling more alert today.” She reached one hand out, and elated, he took it and brought it to his lips.

“I can’t tell you how happy I am to hear you say that,” he replied, his face aglow with genuine pleasure. “What were you playing when I came in, it looked like the cello...”

“‘Gabriel’s Oboe’...but it’s neither here nor there. Tell me everything going on at home, Papa Bear...”

Tom looked at her carefully, and saw she wasn’t tethered to a variety of apparatuses. Slowly, he lowered a side rail, asking, “May I?”

Merry blushed, and nodded, thinking he was simply going to sit besides her on the bed. She was surprised and delighted when he carefully scooped her up and lay back on the bed with her in his arms. She was even more amazed when he lightly pressed his lips to the top of her head.

No one—no one—had ever touched her bare head outside of medical personnel since she had lost her hair. The simple intimate touch of his lips caused something in her heart to crack, then shatter...an ice shelf around her heart that had formed years ago suddenly collapsed.

If Tom could have known this, he would have been insufferably pleased. 

But he couldn’t tell. If he noticed anything, it was Merry seemed more inclined to touch him as he told her about the latest in the World of Liam: the ducks in the area were slightly less rude than London ducks, Tom was aggrieved to report; minor key was much more interesting sounding than major key; scales were boring but arpeggios were fun; he was reading at a frightening pace, so much so that he and Aiden found they needed to pay attention to advertisements and graffiti much more than they had in the past.

He looked down at her. Merry was so still, he was certain she had fallen asleep.

Her face peaceful and wreathed with a blissful smile...but when he fell silent, her eyelids flew open. “Why did you stop?”

Drowning in her blue eyes, he touched the tip of her nose lightly. “I thought you’d fallen asleep there.”

Merry reached up and patted his chest, over his heart, right next to where her head was resting. “Are you joking? I can hear your heart, your breathing, the vibrations of your voice as you are telling me all about our boy...I wouldn’t miss this for anything, Tom. I don’t want to miss a single word.”

Tom felt his heart actually skip a beat when Merry touched him so tenderly of her own volition, and reached up to capture her hand and press it closely to his body. “In that case, I won’t waste a single moment.”

He felt her smile as he continued, “Liam has decided that pigeons and squirrels must be mortal enemies of old, as they are clearly fighting over the same resources...the way he tells it, it sounds as though they could be Montagues against Capulets...”

“Vampires against lycans...”

“Liverpool against Manchester United...”

“First chair versus second chair. God save me.”

Tom laughed, and kissed her head again. “Just so...”

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