After Hank got the call that once again, Marie had gotten herself into trouble, his first instinct was to get mad. At her. About his having to lay in that bed and not be able to do a damn thing to help her. At that damn Heisenberg, who'd for whatever reason had become the one enemy he couldn't stop. Most of all, he'd hated what his life had become, and didn't really see much purpose in going on.

Marie. She could be so irritating, so impulsive, so irresponsible. Why couldn't she just keep things on the level just this once, when he needed her the most? Typical Marie, always thinking of herself first.

Yes, as his anger rose, so did his frustration with his entire life.

He heard the door slam shut, so apparently his call to one of his buddies had paid off. It was for the best that she didn't go in to see Hank right away, for she'd probably get an earful that she really didn't want, or worse, was even used to.

That was it. She was so damn spoiled, he could afford to give her anything her heart desired, yet she had to pull such stupid stunts- he tried to get it, he really did.

He reached over to grab his water- what he wouldn't give for one of his beers, but that damn stuff just went straight through him, and the whole bodily function thing he had going on was the most humiliating experience of his life. But the water was knocked over, and Marie came running to clean it up.

Of course, Hank sighed. Marie would be there, right there, to check on him. To 'nurse him'. To baby him.

"Leave it alone, Marie," he barked, avoiding looking at her.

"We can't leave it, it could cause you to fall when you do get out of this bed..." Marie replied as she bent over to wipe up the spill.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he responded gruffly.

"Nothing. It's just that you and I know it's just a matter of time before you get out of this bed, and when that moment happens, we can't let something as silly as a water spill..."

"Jesus, Marie! Will you give it a rest already? You can tell me I'm going to get up and walk like Jesus did on that damn water, but you know what? I ain't Jesus. There ain't no miracles. The sooner you face reality...do you know what your problem is?" Even Hank hated how he sounded, but he'd found that once he started, there was no stopping him.

She stood up, rag still in her hand. "What. Pray tell, what is my problem, Hank?"

"You are living in a fantasy world! A goddamn fantasy world! On one hand you go around here pretending that everything's all right, that it's all a matter of willpower, that you can do anything you want to do, or more specifically, I can do whatever I want to do. That would be all fine and dandy, except you- you're a liar! You're lying to others, you're lying to me, and you're even lying to yourself! When's it going to stop, Marie? When are you going to stop your little game of make-believe and just face the truth?"

"And what is the truth?" she glared at him.

He sank back into his bed. "I don't know. I just...I don't know."

"You want to know what the truth is...what my truth is? You brought it up, do you think you can handle it, or are you going to hide from everything and everyone who ever mattered to you for the rest of your life in that bed of yours?"

He rolled his eyes. "Go ahead, get it out of your system..."

Marie grabbed his hand, and she wouldn't look away, not until he at least faced her. "You're so worried about the truth, did you ever stop to think what my truth is? My husband, the man I love more than anything in this world, was shot, and when I think of how close to losing you I was...You weren't there, Hank. You weren't there when the doctors were talking to us about options and whatever, and you know, it wasn't easy for me to hear. You go ahead and keep on feeling sorry for yourself. I don't care, I really don't. But you know, while you're busy with your little pity party, I'm out there busting my butt, trying to make sure the insurance situation is taken care of, analyzing every little bill. They charged you nine dollars for an aspirin, Hank! Nine dollars! Maybe you don't realize that, but those nine dollar charges add up, and if you wont' fight for yourself, I sure as hell will."

She took a deep breath. "And if that weren't bad enough, I spend all hours around the clock, taking care of you, making sure you're comfortable, doing everything in my power to support you. While you're busy running up your Visa on your little mineral hobby, I'm trying to make sure we can have food, you have your medical needs met, that your bedpans get changed. Did you hear that, Hank? We could have a nurse come in to change your pans, but you know what? Those nurses cost money. So if it comes down to me swallowing my pride and wiping your ass, and spending money that could be better used on getting you up and running, guess which one I chose?"

Hank looked down."I never thought about it..."

"I know you don't! I know you haven't! You've been so busy wallowing in your self-pity that you're not only isolating yourself from the rest of the world, you're pushing me away! Me! Your wife! I have tried," Marie took a breath. "I have tried to be patient, to be understanding, to tell myself that you're going through a stage. That it will get better. But when day after day you yell at me or worse, tell me to leave you alone, do you have any idea how that makes me feel?"

"Marie..."

"No! Don't try to touch me now. I have given my life to you, to wanting you to get better, for you to be happy again. You can't even bother holding my hand once in a while! My hand! Don't tell me your hand doesn't work, either, because I've seen the cable bills- with those, those..movies you've been ordering! I'm not stupid, Hank. I just haven't said anything because I love you!"

He didn't say anything.

"Yes, I realize I've been acting out," Marie continued. "Has it occurred to you when I do these things, its a cry for help? I've been giving and giving and giving, but who's taking care of me? Who's there to listen to me when I need to cry or vent or whatever? Skyler, she's going through her own shit at home. Her marriage has fallen apart, she doesn't know what she's going to do with her life. So it's not like I can say, excuse me, sis, but while your world is coming down, can you spare five minutes to feel sorry for me? I have no one, Hank. No one. As long as you keep living in your own little world of minerals and ...porn...there, I said it!...then who is going to be there for me?"

Still he said nothing. That only made Marie more angry.

"I give up. I really do. You only care about yourself. That's fine. I'll just...I don't know what I'm going to do. But don't worry about me. Oh, I guess I didn't have to tell you that, because you don't anyways."

She started to walk away, when to her surprise, Hank reached for her hand.

She didn't want him to see her cry. Even though she was really really hurt, she just didn't want him to worry about anything more than he had to at the moment. He was still first in her mind, and that was what was tearing her apart.

"Marie...come on, don't cry. You know...you know I love you, right?"

She still refused to look at him, but she nodded.

"You're right. I have only been thinking of myself. I feel so frustrated, so bad that I can't man up and do what I need to do to take care of you. That's my job, Marie. Don't you get that?"

"Last time I heard, marriage was a two way street. When one is down that's when the other steps up and loves them anyways."

"Come on, Marie. I'm trying...I know, I know it's not your fault, this mess I'm in. I know you're out there busting your ass trying to make sure I don't go without...Maybe I have been pushing you away. I don't want you to see me like this. I am supposed to be the provider, and I can't even..."

"Hank," now she turned to look at him. "Do you think it really matters to me what you can or can't do? I love you, and I told you on our wedding day that for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do we part, that I would always love you. Nothing's going to change that. Nothing."

He squeezed her hand, and for the first time they both could remember, Hank was actually smiling. "How they hell'd I get a gal like you, anyways?"

"I'm the lucky one, Hank. I know I'm messed up. I know I steal and lie and pretend that everything's okay...I don't know why I do the things I do..."

"Marie, look at me. It's going to be okay. I don't think I'll be able to get up and run a marathon today, but I promise you this- I'm going to try my best to get back on my feet, to be the man you deserve. That is, if you'll still have me."

Now she did feel like tearing up, but in a good way. "I love you, Hank."

"I love you too, Marie."

And as she sat beside him, they held hands, and for some reason, for the first time in a long, long time, Hank knew that he would be okay. It wouldn't be easy, and he was bound to screw up from time to time.

But with a gal like Marie by his side...

Maybe things would be all right, after all.

In sickness and in health.

For better or for worse.

Till death did they part.

The end