A/N: I am writing this without knowledge of Vennicio and further.
Summary: Max comes down with a sudden cold after taking a dive in Vennicio, but Monica decides to take care of him while solving her own inner conflict.
Sickness
"ACHOO!"
Max solemnly wiped his nose with the semi used Kleenex. Sick. That was what happened to him. He had caught a cold by foolishly taking a swim in the ice cold waters of Vennicio. One quick dive had quickly lowered his temperature below normal in one second. He scrambled quickly to get back on the shore, but that made no difference.
"Oh man, I feel horrible," Max thought while lowering his head. "But at least there's one good thing."
He rolled his head on the pillow and his sight landed on a beautiful angel, at least in his eyes. Monica's head rested on his arm, eyes closed in a blissful sleep, chest rising rhythmically up and down as she breathes. She had taken it upon herself to help Max feel better, and so brings us to this scene.
"She's so beautiful."
Max brought his free arm and gently removed a stray lock of her flaming red hair from her face. A look of discomfort washed across her face as she moved about a little. Alarm flashed across Max's face as she started to whimper.
"Daddy."
It was quiet, like a whisper, but Max heard it clearly.
"Must be having dreams about her father," Max thought solemnly. "Damn that Gaspard."
A lone tear made its way down Monica's face, but Max was quick to respond. He quietly removed his right arm, the arm that Monica was lying on, and wiped the lone tear away. Monica still whimpered quietly in the night, so Max decided to try something to stop her crying.
Max quietly slipped out of his bed and went to his closet and brought out a small mattress. He laid it on the floor, along with the pillow and blanket he had retrieved on the sides. Then, he gently picked Monica up off of her stool and laid her on top of the mattress, head lying on the pillow, and the blanket covering her. He was about to go back onto his own bed when he heard her sobbing quietly.
"Still crying? I wonder if I should…"
Max began to have his thoughts fight among them.
"No, you can't do that, it's unacceptable!"
"But she's crying, look at her."
"Do YOU want to wake up and have to explain what you did?"
"No, but she's sad, I have to take care of her. I love her for God's sake!"
Max stopped himself. Did he love Monica? He peered down over the mattress and gazed upon her beautiful face once more.
"I definitely love her."
Having resolved his inner conflict, he decided to do something he would have never dreamed of doing if she was awake. He quietly climbed off of his own bed and went under the warmth of the blanket that Monica shared. He wrapped his arms around her body and drew her close. His plan worked, and Monica stopped crying instantly.
Max took a breath of her scent. "I wish I could do this everyday, but I can't. I have to tell her I love her, but for now, I'll enjoy this."
Max smiled to himself and drifted off to his slumber, holding Monica in a lovers embrace.
~*~
The suns' radiant beams of light shone brightly through Max's open window, illuminating the dust in the air. The line of light slowly trekked its way up the couples frame, moving along with the sun's rise over the great horizon. It made its way up to Monica first.
Squinting her eyes open, she decided she had better check up on Max. She tried to get up off her comfortable bed – wait a minute, bed!?
"How did I get in a bed?"
She turned her head around and saw what was making her so comfortable. A deep red blush flew across her face as she felt Max's arms stir from around her body.
"Did Max too this?"
Thoughts began to race in her mind as she hypothesized many different situations in which they could end up like this. Perhaps Max fell out of bed and landed there, or maybe he had been cold and decided he needed some more warmth? After all, sick people often tend to feel very cold. Yeah, that must be the reason. He was feeling cold!
"Now that I have that answered, I have to get out of here before Max wakes up!"
Carefully, she separated Max's arms from her body and slowly stood up, as to not wake the sleeping Max. As she fully rose, she suddenly missed the warmth of Max's body pressed up against hers, his breath tickling her neck. A deep red blush formed on her face.
"What's wrong with me? It's only Max," she reasoned with herself.
Recomposing herself, she set off towards the large kitchen to prepare Max a little something for breakfast. She has done this every day since Max was sick, but she didn't mind one bit. In fact, she loved to cook breakfast for Max, as it gave her time alone to think of their relationship. Were they friends or something more? Those questions plagued her mind.
She opened the door to the main hallway and walked down the steps, stopping only to wave nonchalantly to the family butler. Weaving her way around all the pots containing flowers, she finally reached kitchen.
Opening one of the many closets, she brought out a small pot, perfect size to brew stew for one person.
"I think I'll make him vegetable soup today," Monica mused.
Gathering all the ingredients for the stew was easy enough, as she had been making Max meals long enough. She began to expertly cut up the vegetables swiftly.
"It'll be perfect when Max and I get married. He would be at work while I'm home making big meals for the two of us, and then he'll ravish me after dinner."
Monica red and lost her focus on chopping the vegetables and accidentally cut her finger. Sucking on her finger, she turned on the tap to cold water and placed her finger under the running water.
"I think I'm getting ahead of myself," Monica thought as she resumed her cooking. "Max doesn't like me, he probably likes that Claire girl."
Monica glanced at the pot of soup.
"I'll dump the vegetables in now."
Picking up the plate full of the chopped up vegetables, she tipped the plate over the pot and let it fall in.
"Max could never like me," She thought sadly. "I'm just the bearer of bad news to him. If it wasn't for me, Max would never be on this adventure. He probably hates me for that."
The sound of the vegetable soup bubbling drove her attention away. Picking up a spoon, she spooned herself a spoonful and carefully tasted it.
"It's ready," She thought while pouring it into a bowl. "Oh Max, I hope you know what you're doing to me."
~*~
"Breakfast is ready," Monica announced while opening the door to Max's bedroom.
"What did you make today, my good chef," Max joked.
"Stop acting so nice to me, stop deceiving me."
"Vegetable soup, just the way you like it," Monica replied, and handed the steaming bowl to Max.
"Sounds good," Max accepted the plate and placed it on his lap. He spooned a bit and was about to taste it.
"Careful, it's hot," Monica warned.
Immediately, Max lowered the spoon back into the steaming bowl, stirring it to help cool it faster.
"You're so sweet, thanks for the heads up, Monica," Max smiled.
"Stop smiling at me, I know you don't love me, so stop trying to fool me!"
"We can't have your tongue burning when we fight monsters, now can we?"
Max laughed. "No, we can't have that."
"You're laugh stabs knives in my heart, Max, for I know that it's just a façade. I can never make you laugh like that, so stop!"
Max tasted a bit of the soup. "Hmm, this is the best ever, Monica, good job."
"Stop it!"
"Have I thanked you enough yet for helping me through this?"
"Stop it!"
"Well, thanks, Monica."
"Stop it!"
"I really appreciate this."
"Stop it, stop it, stop it!"
"I'll be right back, Max."
Monica quickly picked herself up, hiding the tears that were begging to be shed. She raced around the house, ignoring the protests of the maids. Bursting through the front doors, she quickly ran to the bridge.
"How many times have I thought of doing this?"
She peered over the edge of the bridge, watching the water rush past.
"How many times, have you tortured my soul, Max?"
She brought her leg up onto the small ledge overlooking bridge, followed by her other leg, and then her body. She stood there, wind billowing past her hair, tears streaming down her eyes.
"Why can't I do it, why can't I just end my pain and suffering?"
She struggled to jump, but could not find the power to do so. Struggling, she stepped off the overpass and collapsed on the cold, marble floor.
"My love for you, Max, won't let me live or die."
She recomposed herself as she picked herself up. Quickly putting on a fake smile, she skipped back to the mansion, trying to act as normally as possible.
"Hello, Miss Monica," the butler said courteously.
"Hello," Monica waved. "Is Max sleeping?"
"I believe so," the man answered. "Would you be so kind to check up on me?"
"Of course."
She quietly opened the door to Max's room, and found him sleeping peacefully on his bed, chest rising up and down rhythmically.
"Why don't you love me, Max?"
Tears struggled to come down her melancholic face. She shut the door quietly.
"So how is he?"
The butler startled her. "He's sleeping."
"That's good to know."
Monica forced a smile. "I'm going to go out into town and buy some groceries for dinner."
~*~
"Some bread, vegetables, hmm, I think I'll make chicken today."
She brought her items up to the counter, and came face to face with the ever so familiar cashier.
"Is Max still sick, hun?"
"Yeah, but I hope he feels better," Monica said and placed the food on the counter.
"I'm so happy he found someone as caring and sweet as you, Monica."
"Stop, please, he'll never love me, not like I love him."
"I'm the lucky one," Monica smiled.
"Oh, you two make such a great couple!"
"STOP!"
Monica dropped a can of tomato sauce on the floor.
She forced a smile, "Maybe."
"Well, that's all of it, how much?"
"It'll just be 1,000 Gilda."
"Here you go," Monica handed her the money and quickly left.
"Everyone keeps acting like Max and I are the perfect couple, but we're not!"
She ran quicker until she finally made it back into the mansion.
"I'll do it tonight," Monica said. "Tonight, I'll be free of my pain, the pain that you caused."
But for now, Monica began to cook him the biggest dinner he'll ever have, and the last she'll have ever made.
~*~
"Wow, Monica, this chicken is delicious," Max applauded as he took another bite.
Monica smiled. "Stop it, Max. Please don't hurt me any more today."
He then scooped up some mashed potatoes that were on the side and engulfed them, savouring the taste in his mouth. Monica sat there, quietly observing Max eat, cringing every time Max made a sound of enjoyment.
"Stop acting like you enjoy it so much."
Max took another helpful of peas this time.
"I know you're only trying to make me happy."
"Boy, that was the best ever, thanks Monica," Max said while cleaning himself up.
"Anytime, Max."
"I feeling a lot better now, I think we can go back to Vennicio tomorrow," Max said.
"Yeah, maybe," Monica replied. "Well, good night Max, you still need to rest for tomorrow."
"I know you're not supposed to go to bed after you eat, but," Max stopped to yawn. "But I'm really tired. Good night, Monica."
"Good night, and good bye, Max."
~*~
Monica stood up on the balcony of her room, starring off into the endless abyss called space.
"To end my suffering."
A glint of steel caught her eye as she raised the knife.
"To end the suffering that you caused."
Monica brought the knife up to her wrist, and let it lay there for a moment.
"Good bye, Max."
In one clean slice, she slit her wrist, and blood immediately began to seep through it.
"Monica!" Max yelled in alarm and shock as he busted through the locked door.
"Max?" She replied in a tiny voice.
Max tenderly held her in his arms. "Monica, w-what have you done?"
"I-I just couldn't t-take the pain," she began. "K-knowing that you don't l-love me."
"Love you? What are talking about, Monica, of course I love you!" Max admitted. "I've loved you since the day I saw you on the train!"
"T-then why didn't you tell me?"
"I was afraid. Please, don't die, Monica."
"Don't worry, Max."
"Monica?" Max said in shock.
"I love you, too, Max."
Her body fell limp in his arms. "Monica?"
He shook her.
"Wake up, Monica, play time's over."
No response.
"Monica."
He collapsed on the floor, hugging Monica tightly around his chest.
"I'm sorry."
Fin
A/N: Sad, right? Here's a sappy ending for all of you who don't like the first.
============================================================================
ALTERNATE ENDING #1:
"Good bye, Max."
She raised the knife high above her head, ready for that one clean swipe that would end her suffering.
"Monica, stop!" Max desperately yelled.
"Max?" Monica turned her head as Max took the knife away from her hand and threw it off the balcony.
"What the hell do you think you're doing!?" Max half asked half yelled.
"It's not like you care," Monica said harshly.
"What are you talking about?" His voice became softer.
"You don't love me."
"What are you talking about, of course I love you!"
"You're just saying that," Monica stood up and leaned on the railing, tears falling.
Max wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her tenderly on the base of her neck as she melted in his arms.
"I do love you, Monica, and I always will."
Fin
============================================================================