Author Note: Hello, Fanfic Readers! I'm making plans to fly out of China in the next few days to go home and see my family. In-between packing and buying necessities for my trip, I'm going to keep uploading more chapters for this story. There are 19 in total, so hopefully the complete story will be available here on FF by tomorrow :-D
Thanks again for the reviews, you guys are awesome!
Disclaimer: I do not own Victorious or the zany characters from this hilarious show. If I did, I would've explored more of the romantic pairings hinted at in the show like Tori/Beck, Tori/Jade (lmfao) Cat/Robbie and even Jade/Andre because that fourth pairing was so out of left field and hilarious in season 2.
Two more years flew by after this. Sam was excelling just as much at school as before and had begun to delve deeper into his whimsical imagination, much like his mother.
So much so that Minister Eikner kept his eye on the youngest Shapiro, stroking his beard pensively as winter approached in Northridge.
When the first week of December finally came, Sam came sprinting into his family home. His cheeks were rosy from the frosty air and his soft brown eyes danced with excitement. A thin blanket of snow had settled over the apple trees on Valentine Farm. Snow was unusual for this region of California, which had some of the famers in Northridge extremely worried. And yet, Cat couldn't help delighting in the sight of the snow; it made the apples look like they'd been dipped in white tufts of sugar.
"Mama, Papa! Guess what! Minister Eikner wants me to act in the Christmas play!" Sam proclaimed happily, knocking his boots one at a time against the edge of the front door to loosen dirt and snow clinging to the soles.
He'd never been asked to do something of this magnitude by an adult before. And helping Nana Shapiro to clean her false teeth before her untimely passing the year before certainly didn't count.
"Tug, that's wonderful news!" Cat cried happily, enveloping her son in a tight hug and raining scores of loving kisses across his cheeks and forehead. "But we'll need to do something about your hair before the play though…" she murmured half to herself.
Sam certainly took after his father with his voluminous, jet black curly hair that couldn't be tamed by a comb or brush for very long. Still, with his round, rosy cheeks that dimpled when he smiled, Samuel Shapiro pulled off the look quite easily.
"Papa, did you hear the good news? Tug's going to act in the Christmas play!" Cat called out to Robbie, who was somewhere in the house.
Robbie finally emerged from their bedroom, winding his way down the ancient, wooden staircase which creaked with each of his sluggish footfalls.
For the briefest moment, Cat stared aghast at her husband. Not only did he look tired, but his usually pale features were wan and waxed with illness.
Before she could say anything, Robbie had arranged his face into a bright smile as he moved forward to hug his son and give him a doting kiss on the top of his tiny head.
"Sammy! How's my boy? How was school today?" Robbie asked in an engaging tone, already looking far better than when he'd first descended the stairs.
"It was great, Papa! Did you hear my good news?" Sam asked eagerly.
"Minister Eikner wants Sam to act in the Nativity play this year," Cat informed her husband with a proud smile.
Robbie's smile echoed that of his wife's as he got on his haunches to gaze at his son. "Is that a fact? I always knew that my son was the most talented boy in all of Northridge. Put it there, partner!" he guffawed.
Cat giggled when father and son spat into their hands and did a facetious handshake that was indicative of many of the travelers who passed through Northridge during the course of the year from some of the more ungovernable regions of the US.
"And what role are you going to play, Tug?" Robbie asked, ruffling his son's hair after their silly handshake was complete.
"He wants me to play one of the Magi. Papa, what's a Magi?" Sam asked curiously.
"Why, that's only one of the most important parts in the Nativity play, Tug! The Magi is a king who has lot of gold," Robbie explained.
"And he wears a funny hat," Cat supplied facetiously.
"But aren't kings really smart? Won't I have to say a lot of big words if I'm to be one of the Magi?" Sam asked, nervousness suddenly creasing his forehead.
"Aww, don't worry too much about that, Tug. Papa and I will help you learn your lines and practice all those big scary words." Cat assured their son.
"Exactly! And I'm sure you can ask Grandma Mat if she'll knit you a big and funny hat too just for the play," Robbie added, shooting his wife a wink.
That seemed to settle matters for Sam as he regained his former excitement about the Christmas play.
"I'll go put my school books in my room!" Sam announced shortly after.
"Don't forget to wash up before dinner!" Robbie called after his son's retreating form.
He smiled at his son's silhouette one last time before taking a seat at the kitchen table.
Robbie gave a slight jolt when he felt Cat hug him from behind. It wasn't long before her dainty hands had moved upwards and began massaging his temples in a soothing pattern.
"You're feeling sick again, aren't you?" she asked quietly, her fingers moving in a circular motion over Robbie's skin.
Robbie sighed loudly, but continued smiling at his wife's careful ministrations. "It's only a slight headache, my love."
"You've been getting a lot of headaches recently," Cat noted, her eyes pinched with worry. "You were barely able to get through your chores earlier before you had to take a rest."
"I'm alright, Cat," Robbie chided, removing one of Cat's hands from his face so he could kiss it instead.
"I really wish you would let me get the doctor to take a look at you."
"It's not necessary, my darling. Besides, we have far too much work to do before the end of the year. But I promise you this: once we send more animals and apples to market at the end of December, I will let a doctor attend to me then." Robbie assured his wife.
"Cross your heart and hope to die?" Cat asked, an adorable frown painted on her lovely face.
Robbie chuckled and turned around so he could press his lips lightly to Cat's, her mouth tasting soft and sweet just like always.
Cat chuckled too when Robbie smiled afterwards and made an 'X' shape with his fingers over his chest.
After that, time seemed to whizz by like those blitzing new steam trains that scared the stuffing out of countryfolk with their bellowing smoke and screeching whistles. Robbie was certainly correct in his assertions about how much work needed to be done on the farm before the end of the year. While getting their produce ready for market, Cat and Robbie stayed true to their word and helped Sam rehearse and recite his lines for the Christmas Nativity.
Still, Cat kept a sharp eye on Robbie throughout this period.
He insisted he was fine and managed to do his regular chores. And yet, there was something forced and stilted in his every movement which worried Cat to no end.
Robbie had complained about even more severe migraines in the last few weeks since Sam announced his participation in the play. Not only that, but his vision had become unusually blurry at inopportune moments, which made driving a wagon or riding a horse difficult for him. Robbie assured his wife that he was perfectly healthy and had no intention of missing their son's stellar performance as one of the Magi.
Robbie pretended not to notice Cat's worry and continued his daily chores. And when the weather was dry and devoid of icy winds and rain, he roughhoused with Sam out on the field beyond the family farm. He would toss a leathery pig skin back and forth with his son as they whiled away the last few hours of sunlight on those cool afternoons.
Finally, it was the evening of the Nativity Play and Sam was a vibrating bundle of excitement nerves. Cat helped her son dress in his best suit; when they arrived at the church later, he would then put on his elaborate Magi costume and big hat that Mat had made for him over his suit.
Even though Robbie readily agreed to go with Cat to Northridge Abbey to watch Sam act in the Nativity Play, Cat had half a mind to ask her husband to remain at home and rest.
"Nonsense! I'm right as rain," Robbie protested with a gruff smile on his face.
He made his point abundantly clear when he took Cat suddenly in his arms and waltzed around the kitchen with her laughing features before dipping her and kissing her sensually afterwards.
That seemed to put the matter to rest for the time being when Cat skipped upstairs to their bedroom to get dressed, her cheeks tinged with rouge at Robbie's ability to still make her swoon after all these years.
Northridge Abbey was packed to the rafters with all the townsfolk and proud parents who had come to watch their children perform in the Christmas Nativity. Minister Eikner stood near the church organ, biting his nails nervously all the while, praying to God in the heavens that Susie-Jo would remember all her lines.
He sincerely hoped the little girl could contain herself and be just as meek and obedient as the character she'd be playing, which happened to be the Virgin Mary.
While many of the children hiccoughed and stammered through their lines, Sam Shapiro was magnificent in his role of the Magi. He opened the contents of his makeshift chest of gold to present to Mary and Joseph and said his lines with gusto. He smiled broadly through the artificial beard that Cat had made with black horse-hair just for the occasion.
She and Robbie watched their son pour his heart and soul into the role they played, their feelings of love and pride gushing unbridled out of them.
And when the final scene ended on a rapturous climax and the children took their final bows, the Shapiros were the first on the feet, clapping exuberantly.
Sam caught his parents' eye and waved excitedly at them, looking cute as a button in his Magi costume.
Cat sobbed loudly, happy tears pouring out of her eyes as she clapped heartily for her son's charismatic performance.
"That's my boy! That's my son!" Robbie crowed in jubilation at his son's spectacular acting skills. He put his two middle fingers in his mouth and whistled sharply in his excitement as the curtains were finally closed.
Cat whooped in surprise when Robbie took her in his arms and spun her around soon after, ignoring the people standing all around him.
"That's our son!" he cried happily.
"He's our son!" Cat agreed, happiness shining through her eyes as she hugged her husband fiercely.
She finally disengaged herself to hug Jade, who had sat not too far from them in the crowd. Robbie continued laughing to himself, overcome with happiness at being able to see his son in the Christmas Nativity. His laughter rang in his ears like dull cow bells, clanging mercilessly against his pounding skull. The migraine had returned in full force, slicing through his nerve endings like a blunt axe. His head hurt so much, he felt sure it would burst, causing his brain to ooze out all over the church pews.
And yet, he'd never felt happier and more alive than in that singular moment.
"What a wonderful moment! What a blessed evening…" Robbie murmured happily to himself, his vision becoming blurry and asymmetrical.
He felt correct in his assertions about the outcome of the evening right until he passed out in the church, the world turning black all around him.
When Robbie finally came to later that night, he was back in his own bed at Valentine Farm. The same doctor who had delivered Sam nearly 7 years ago visited the farm the very next day to attend him. Cat held Robbie's hand in a vice-like grip while he lay in bed, tears falling from her cheeks and splashing onto her chin.
These tears were nothing like the night before while they'd rejoiced at their son's performance in the Nativity.
These silver droplets were only the beginning of many more heart-wrenching tears still to come.
Unlike the day that their son was born, the doctor's face was very grave on that morning.
"Based on your symptoms of late and the mysterious bumps all around your head, there appear to be a large collection of abnormal growths in your brain…" the doctor began, looking extremely pained in the moment.
"Several growths, you say? Well…that's surprising," Robbie began in an unusually chipper voice. "But you can fix it, right? I'll need some kind of operation to fix me, right?"
"I'm afraid it's well beyond that now, Robert. Any operation done on you at this point would kill you."
"But what am I to do in my current state?"
"There is nothing which can be done. You've have months, maybe a few weeks, at best…"
"This cannot be true…"
"Robbie-"
He cut off Cat's statement, shuffling awkwardly amidst his bed sheets so he could get up.
"There has to be some sort of mistake, doctor," Robbie persisted in a loud voice, which sounded like a foreign language to his ears, "I am very healthy, it's not possible to have…what you're saying I have. I simply cannot accept it."
He tried his hardest to wrench himself free from his bed sheets. But his legs and arms were being stubborn, his brain chaining his body like iron shackles to the bed.
"Robbie, lots of healthy people become afflicted with the strangest illnesses," Cat said in a soothing voice despite her rampant tears. "It's not your fault-"
"I never said it was!" Robbie shouted, becoming very angry all of a sudden, causing Cat to sob even harder.
"I'm terribly sorry," the doctor offered, feeling true anguish for the young couple's pain. "I will bring some medicines with me on my next visit to ease some of your pain, Robert. For now, you should rest and…put your affairs in order."
After that, he took his leave and with that, any vestiges of hope that Robbie had foolishly clung to.
The doctor indeed returned with more medicine, which helped to assuage most of Robbie's painful headaches. Cat was very stern and made sure that Robbie rested as per the doctor's orders. He obliged her for four days and then he finally he couldn't take it anymore.
Cat returned to the house in the afternoon. Rat and Pat had stopped by the farm to assist her with picking the apples and she had excused herself to go check on her husband.
She was just about to heat up some stew for Robbie in the kitchen when she heard a series of loud thuds and crashes coming from the parlour.
She found Robbie in there, and fully dressed too in a long white shirt, dark brown trousers, his black boots laced up and his braces clipped into his trousers and slung tightly over his scrawny shoulders.
His pale hands were shaking and Cat was alarmed to see that they were tinged with fresh cuts and bruises. She finally understood why when Robbie slammed his fists down hard onto the parlour table, the fine china wobbling precariously on the wooden surface.
Robbie suddenly resented Cat's presence in the room. He'd wanted to be alone with his grief for a time when everyone else was busy. Now, he desired nothing more than to quit the room and begin beating his fists against anything else he could lay his hands on.
He wanted to kick and rage at anyone who dared to tell him how he was meant to feel about any of this.
"Robbie…" Cat trailed off, staring in horror at the damage Robbie had done to the table and his hands.
"It's good to know that my brain hasn't turned to rot just yet," Robbie muttered, laughing darkly at his own twisted sense of humour.
"Robbie-"
"It's not fair, Cat!" Robbie screamed at the house, unperturbed whether he brought his in-laws into the house as well from all the noise he was making. "I have a life! I have responsibilities! I have you – and Sam! I cannot leave you alone to fend for yourselves. I have failed you, as a husband and as a father…"
"Robbie-"
"I should have never married you," Robbie continued in a toneless voice, despair sinking into his very bones. "My grandmother forced me to, and I resented her so much for it…at first. And then I met you again in this life and you just…swept me off my feet with your beauty and your kindness. I should have never let myself love you or let you love me. I am such a colossal disappointment of a man-"
Cat raised her hand and slapped Robbie hard across the cheek at this juncture in the conversation. A part of her did it to silence his hysterics, but the stronger part of her did it out of sheer anger and a sense of betrayal that Robbie would dare to minimize the life they had built together for close to 8 years.
"Robert Ephraim Shapiro, never say such hateful words to me ever again," Cat said in a voice made of steel which chilled Robbie to his core. "If your grandmother were still alive, she would be so ashamed, watching you give into such childish tantrums. So your life has been cut short by a divine, powerful being! Lots of men die young! So do many women and children too! Are you going to spend the rest of your days showing ingratitude for what little life you have been given? Or are you going to live your best life with the people who love and cherish you the most? You are still here and you are still alive. Don't waste all your time and energy on anger and resentment. It's beneath you." Cat whispered on the last part.
The soft tenor of her voice was enough to shake Robbie from his destructive mood. He finally surrendered and began crying hard, his shoulders shaking with hollow grief.
Cat wordlessly moved closer and wrapped her arms around Robbie's wiry frame. At first, he stood like a limp statue in her arms, the tightness of her grip crushing his very bones with their surprising strength. Finally, he stopped fighting against his base desire to not be moved and hugged her back just as hard till he worried they would disappear into each other.
And then they both cried together for what felt like centuries.
"Forgive me, my love," Robbie said in shuddering breaths, holding on tightly to Cat's petite frame as they stood together in the parlour.
Cat pulled away slightly, but only so she could lean forward and cup Robbie's cheek in her hand, kissing his lips slowly and sweetly.
For a brief moment, Robbie felt whole and happy, his lips moving forcefully over Cat's as he caressed her back and held her tight.
Cat had always been his sunshine, from the very first day that he'd sat in this parlour and they'd talked of their plans to reacquaint themselves with each other and eventually marry.
Despite his previous words, he could never regret the journey they had taken together.
When they finally pulled apart, Cat's eyes were half-closed and the worst of her tears had finally been tamed.
"There is nothing to forgive, darling," she murmured in lilting breaths from the force of her emotions and Robbie's kisses from before.
Robbie's heart twisted in agony when he realized that she truly meant it.
"I cannot endure this," he whimpered, his salty tears dripping from his long nose.
Cat sobbed yet again, but her embrace never faltered once.
"You can endure this," she reassured him, "because we will endure it together. You are not alone in this; you will never be alone."
Robbie emitted a shuddering breath, trying his best to still the storm brewing deep in his head. But the one in his heart was growing and gathering momentum the longer he gazed into Cat's soft brown eyes.
She was so strong and beautiful and he adored her with everything he had in him.
There was every good chance that the abnormal growths in Robbie's head were going to kill him within days.
But he was still here.
They were both still here and in that moment, Robbie needed any of Cat's strength and vivacity that she was willing to give him.
Cat's breath caught in her throat the longer that Robbie looked down at her. His gaze grew heavier as his eyes dragged lower over her sultry lips. Cat leant closer and closer to him, her halting breaths fanning his cheeks like a cool breeze. Her delicate eyelids were partially open, fluttering like that of a butterfly.
Her hands instinctively moved to his chest as Robbie leant down and captured her lips in a sweet kiss. Soon, his hands had encircled his wife's slim waist as their kisses grew more heated and passionate.
Robbie mustered up what little strength he had in his weary body to lift Cat into his arms, his lips dancing briefly over her collarbone. Cat sucked in a sharp breath, instinctively wrapping her legs around Robbie's hips as he walked them up their stairs and to their bedroom.
Both of them should have been more concerned that either Rat or Pat would come into the house and seek them out at any moment. But neither of them cared too much, their thoughts and bodies wholly consumed with each other.
This might be the last time that they could be together like this before Robbie's body and mind deteriorated.
And they would be damned before they let any precious moments like this escape them.
When Cat finally saw how sluggish all of Robbie's movements were when he finally set her down beside their bed, she took matters into her own hands. She placed her hands on his shoulder in a silent command to make him sit down on their bed. And when he acquiesced, she followed suit, straddling Robbie's lap and caressing his warm cheeks as she kissed him with abandon.
Her hand moved lower and grasped Robbie's hand. He sucked in a sharp breath when she placed his hand on her chest, just inches from where her quivering heart lay.
It was the first time that he could recall in a long time that he'd heard Cat's heart beating with so much rampant love for him.
He leant in close and hugged her tightly, resting his head against her chest so he could listen to the erratic rhythm of her heart.
It was the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard.
For the next few hours, he planned on memorizing that sound and committing it to memory. That was the last thought he had before Cat tilted her head and kissed him again with more fervor.
And then they were shedding their clothing, wrapping their limbs around each other and making fervent love till the sun's rays cooled and morphed into that of the silvery moon.
Author Note: I know, I suck majorly for the turn this story has taken now :-/
I don't know exactly how advanced medicine was in the USA back in the 1850s, so the doctor's diagnosis in this chapter was guesswork on my part. From this, you can infer that Robbie either has several tumours or an aneurysm in his brain. Either way, it's not looking good for Mr. Shapiro :'-(
And now, I must go and play a sad violin for several minutes to collect myself. After that, I will descend the staircase and go comfort a heartbroken Cat with a few hugs and lots of kisses because...I'm a good person and not a romantic opportunist in the least.
Then again, Samuel Shapiro is not the only one out there with an unusual middle name. My middle name is 'Mr. Steal Yo Gurl'.
Tootles!