1It was nearly midnight by the time they arrived back at their flat. Owen had just spent his entire evening in the belly of the beast and he wanted nothing more than to have some tea and go to bed. "Freedom, at last," he sighed in relief, discarding his jacket and tie as he made his way to their bedroom.
"Come on now, that wasn't so bad. Everyone seemed to have a lovely time." That was Katie, always the bloody positive one. It got on his nerves sometimes but Owen knew he needed that in his life, to make sure he didn't just give up on everything.
"Not so bad? Were you at the same dinner I was?"
"What are you talking about? My parents love you." She followed him into their room, carefully removing her earrings.
"They love me when I'm your nice doctor fiancé, not when I'm their begging for money-"
"For OUR wedding," she reminded him.
"Which I should be able to pay for." He sat down at the end of their bed and rested his head in his hands, too exhausted to keep it up any longer.
"Don't be silly, parents always pay for the wedding and they know your family situation."
"Yeah, that my dad is dead and my mom is a cunt," he muttered under his breath, earning him a dirty look from Katie.
"Owen Harper, don't you say that word about your mother, I don't care what she's done." Seeing how utterly pathetic he looked, she sat down on the bed behind him and gently started to massage his shoulders the way he always liked. The small moan that escaped his throat told her she was doing it correctly. "It's not like they don't have money to spare, and they like being able to give us a big wedding."
"I don't give a shit about a big wedding. I don't care if we get married in Buckingham Palace or a fucking alley, I just want you to be my wife," he turned to look at her, desperation evident in his eyes. He had been told over and over again that going on with the wedding after her diagnosis was a foolish decision but he didn't give a fuck what they thought. He was going to marry this woman no matter what.
Kate smiled back at him, that soft smile that in spite of everything actually made Owen almost believe that everything was going to be alright. "I know love, though I would prefer a church to an alley." She linked her arms around the back of his neck and gave him a gently kiss. "I know you hate asking for things from anyone but we need help, there's nothing wrong with that."
"I just wish I could take care of you all by myself," his voice now barely above a whisper.
"And you do a wonderful job taking care of me, I'd be lost without you." At this point he can't tell if she means what she's saying or if she's just trying to make him feel better, but whatever it is it's working. "Come on, let's just try to get some sleep." She helped him remove his clothes until he was just in his boxers, then quickly took of her dress and joined him under the covers. She immediately drew him closer, gently running her fingers through his soft hair in an attempt to get him to calm down.
Owen knew in his mind that this scene was backwards. He was supposed to be the one holding her, he was supposed to be the one comforting her and telling her it was all going to be alright. That's how it was supposed to be, but no matter who was taking care of who Owen had no delusions about who was the strong one in the relationship. He needed to get her well if for no other reason than the purely selfish notion that he would in fact be the one lost without her. Pushing his thoughts aside for now he concentrated on the sensation of her fingers against his scalp, slightly turning into the soft and reassuring touch as he drifted off to sleep.