AN: This is for the Anon from Tumblr asking for a story of Sara worrying about Michael's weight. And for those reviewers who asked me to write more. Thank you for your encouragement, and pls remember I am new to this and I'm only learning :) There will be a couple more chapters to this.

PS: English is not my native language. Sorry about mistakes.


- Do you like what you feel? – his voice was husky and half-whispered words tickled her ear, sending shivers down her neck. She was standing within his embrace with her hands under his shirt exploring the muscle under his olive skin. "Not really, - would have been an honest answer to this question, as she was still concerned about his weight, which he wasn't really gaining no matter how many weeks have passed since he was back and no matter how hard she tried her best in the kitchen with home cooked meals. She even started suspecting that he lost a couple more pounds recently.

- Oh yeah, - she couldn't voice her concerns (not once again anyway), so she let her fingers continue their discrete journey. This was a true answer too, because she loved him and his body no matter what, the scars and missing toes, but she could literally count his ribs under her fingers.. She was just worried. Thinking of everything he had to go through made her heart clench with sorrow and worry about the impact it had on his body and soul. She didn't know much about it. Hell, she wanted to. But he was sharing only small bits at his own pace. She knew she couldn't push.

She kept telling herself she shouldn't worry so much about him. No matter how much (or little) he weighed, he was still strong physically and he had stamina (oh she would know), he didn't have any other alarming symptoms. Having a medical education was convenient in many ways, but sometimes she wished she could turn off the doctor mode around her family.

She tried to reason with herself: he eats small amounts of food, sometimes claims to have no appetite at all, so what? His system has readjusted after years of malnourishment and stress, that's it. She made him do all kinds of check ups back in the beginning, he was grumpy about it but complied, - he had a family and he needed to be at his best for them, so he agreed. Everything turned out relatively fine, he got a few prescriptions (vitamins and such) but the general picture was pretty good.

She and Mike took him out for dinners multiple times per week, to show him their favorite places and introduce him to their favorite foods. But Michael paid more attention to memorizing his wife and son's preferences instead of caring about what was on his plate. Sara took her time with her 3 course meals and encouraging everyone to try more desserts, dragging time and hoping that Michael would show more interest in gourmets but he didn't care much. And of course eventually (pretty soon) he figured out what she was trying to accomplish there and put an end to it. "I'm fine, Sara, remember how the Doctor said I'm fine? You were there." She had to bite her tongue because "But I have a feeling that you are not" suddenly seemed like a silly answer.

She considered the possibility of his losing weight being a symptom of a disease. Her fingers stilled on his chest. No, that was impossible. His bloodwork was fine and he didn't show any other signs like excessive thirst or anything. Diabetes. Huh. That would have been ironic.

- Sara, are you examining me? –his voice broke her out of her reverie.

- What? No. What?.. I'm not, - she felt a little embarrassed at being caught and smiled sweetly at him, putting her itchy hands around his back. – Just touching.

- Trust me, I know the difference. As much as I love that little doctor-patient game of ours, when you do it like this it kind of takes the fun away.

This was the last thing she wanted.

- Oh, sorry. I.. got a bit carried away, - she chuckled.

- Is there something on your mind? – he looked at her with mild suspicion and she knew she needed to get him distracted from the subject, before he figured out what actually was on her mind. Good thing she had something ready and waiting since that morning.

- I actually wanted to show you something, - she drew away from his embrace gingerly and stepped around him to retrieve something from the wardrobe. Coming back, she put an album into his hands.

- What's this? – he asked, not daring to open it. The cover was plain blue and had no picture or title on it.

- It's Mike's first pictures. From when he was born to approximately one year old. You know, that kind of baby book, where you mark the baby's milestones, like when he first smiled, when he got his first tooth.. the height and weight graphs… - she trailed off, suddenly flooded with emotions.

She knew this album would be a big treat for Michael and his reaction didn't disappoint. He was holding to it so tightly never tearing his eyes off the cover.

She smiled and stroked his cheek lovingly.

- I wanted to show it to you for weeks now but couldn't find it in the boxes. You want to take a look?

Still speechless, Michael took a couple of steps to the bed and sat down, opening the album.

He took his time, inspecting every picture, reading every fact Sara had meticulously written down on the colorful pages. She used to find comfort and distraction in filling this book with bits of Mike's infant life. From time to time Micahel would ask a question, not looking away from the pages, running his fingers along the photographs. She was watching his face the whole time and she saw the tears glistening in his eyes. When he finally finished and closed the book, he looked up with a content smile (a proud one?) gracing his lips and she abruptly turned away pretending to shuffle some stuff inside the wardrobe, but she didn't do it fast enough for him not to notice that she was crying.

He got up dropping the album onto the bed and came to her, putting his hands on her shoulders and turning her to face him.

- I'm just .. so mad. So mad this was taken from you, from us, - she hid her face in his chest and let him hold her. Thinking about the time that was stolen from them in the most cruel and senseless way brought too much anger and sorrow. She tried her best to avoid these thoughts, but of course they were coming back way more often than any of them wished.

God, was he mad too. It's been weeks, months even, since Michael was back but it seemed like he kept finding a new reason to punch Poseidon in the face on a regular basis. Like that wine collection right in the living room. Two dozens of bottles. Seriously? He got rid of them at the first opportunity (that is as soon as Sara left the house. She didn't comment.) He had yet to ask her how he had treated her in the every day life, but didn't have the guts yet. That bruise on her cheekbone on the day he found her kind of spoke volumes, among other things.

She was sobbing quietly in his arms and he tried to concentrate on positive and distract her.

- I'm here now, okay? It's what matters. We have all the time in the world, - he started stroking her hair lightly. After another minute of silence she asked quietly:

- Yeah, but what if.. what if the darkness will find us? Find us again like it did so many times in the past.

He didn't like this talk. Didn't like it at all.

- Let it try, - he said firmly. And he meant it.

She looked up and he took the chance to kiss her.

- Now.. You wanna examine me some more? – He unwrapped his arms from her and pulled his shirt off (in that funny way that men do).