"Come on, come on." Brock waited for the number on the digital scale to appear, and when it did, he felt relief wash over his body. He had lost the weight that he put back on, and even a few extra pounds as well. Now he knew he had to keep at it if he wanted to get down to his goal body. For himself, for the wedding, and for Brian.

The next week for Brock, drug on so slowly, and it was so so so rough on him and his body. He went to the gym everyday for hours, telling Brian that they were almost out of time for the wedding and he needed to work more on his weight. He started skipping meals, eating less frequently without letting Brian catch on, and then making himself vomit up whatever he did manage to eat. Then, at the end of every day he weighed himself to make sure that it was steadily decreasing. The number was always smaller, but so was Brock's sanity. It was a mess; and he had failed to realize that the weight loss had spiraled completely out of his control. It was an obsession now. Hell, he barely had time for his regular life.

Brian missed him, he hardly saw his soon to be husband unless they were going to bed. And even then, Brock was usually passed out from exhaustion before they could even spend any time together. It was not healthy for their relationship at all. The Irishman was starting to feel lonely and he couldn't wait for their wedding so that Brock would finally get out of this horrible, strict routine. Their lives could go back to normal, back to the way they were before. But in the meantime, while Brock was obsessing over his weight, Brian was plunging himself into his work and into youtube; it helped keep his mind off the way Brock was acting. It was as if the two were in their own little worlds.

"Going to the gym again?" Brian inquired as he saw the older man slipping on his sneakers.

"Yeah, I won't be gone long." Brock smiled before coming over to kiss the Irishman on the cheek.

"Aren't you worried you're pushing yourself too hard?" The younger man asked with concern.

"Hey," Brock chided. "Isn't that my job to worry?" He joked lightly.

Brian sighed, "Yeah, but still... Just please be careful." He wouldn't know what to do with himself if something would ever happen to Brock. Hell, how would he be able to go on? How would he be able to function?

"I will." The older man pulled him out of his dark thoughts. "I love you."

"I love you too," Brian replied mechanically, realizing that it was the fourth time that Brock was going to work out that day. "Hey, I might not be home when you get back, I think some of the guys were going out for drinks or something." He added, remembering that he had talked to them earlier. And he never bothered to invite Brock, because the man just never wanted to go, so Brian usually went by himself. It was another thing he really disliked - always going to things by himself and their friends always asked where Brock was or what he was doing.

"Okay, just keep your phone on you." The older man replied. "Have fun." He got out before slipping out the front door. He couldn't wait to get to the gym, he was going to run until his chest was on fire, it was a feeling he'd become so familiar with lately, and he anticipated the weight he was going to shed because of it. He would have his desired wedding body in no time.

Sweat poured from Brock's skin as he sprinted on the treadmill. His lungs were burning and his legs felt like they were going to give out at any moment, but he pushed himself to keep going. He wasn't going to stop, not now, not ever until he got what he wanted. So he ran until he couldn't run anymore, and when he couldn't run anymore, he lifted weights, and when he couldn't do that anymore, he did yoga until his limbs felt like they were going to fall off. Once he was completely spent, that's how he knew it was time to head home. His body was throbbing in soreness. When he finally got home, he showered and weighed himself and was more than happy to see that he was down another two pounds. His hard work was paying off.

While he had the house to himself, Brock decided that he should relax. He was very burnt out from his workout and needed to rest his overworked muscles. So, he cooked a very small dinner (that he would probably throw up later) and sat on the couch to watch some TV; he would wait for Brian to come back and then they would go to bed. Going to bed with the younger man was still by far one of his favorite things to do. He loved it when his husband to be cuddled him.

Once he was done eating, Brock stood up to go to the kitchen to put his dishes in the sink, but something felt weird, it was as if his head wasn't on right. He was so dizzy and could barely walk to where he needed to go. He had trouble even getting out of the living room. This was bad, it was really bad and his cell phone to call Brian was all the way on the couch. It was far too late because without warning, Brock dropped the plate in his hand and it shattered on the floor, but before he could do anything about it, he was unconscious and broken on the floor as well.

It was late when Brian was finally on his way home from the bar. He'd consumed a few drinks but definitely wasn't drunk, and was eager to get home to Brock. Despite them not spending much time together lately, he still looked forward to the small amount of moments they did still have together. He was hoping that the older man hadn't pushed himself too hard at the gym and would still be awake when he arrived. However, that was Brian's hope most nights, and most nights that was definitely not the case. Most nights he came home and he was already in bed fast asleep.

It was cold when the Irishman stepped out of the uber, so he hurried to unlock the door and get inside. It was eerily quiet, and nothing could have prepared him for the sight he was about to see. "Brock!?" His voice cracked as he took in the scene before him. A broken plate? Brock's unconscious body laying on the living room floor? What the hell had happened? Immediately, he went to his fiance to make sure he was still breathing, and a sigh of relief escaped him when he realized he was. "Brock?" He questioned again, shaking the older man gently. He was worried, he was scared, and his heart was hurting. "Shit, shit, hold on Brocky..." Brian grabbed his phone and his hands were trembling violently as he dialed for an ambulance.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Ah yes, my fiance, he's passed out or fainted or something... I need help." His voice was frantic, he was unsure of what to say.

"We're sending an ambulance to your location, sir."

Brian hung up the phone and sunk down beside the man he loved. He wasn't sure what was going to happen after this point. What if something was seriously wrong with him? "It's gonna be okay Brock... It's gonna be okay. I'm here, you're fine..." He patted his hair gently, stroked his face, and struggled to hold in the tears that were brimming his eyelids.