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Mary and Wilson arrived at the hospital Friday night in a positive state of mind. Everything was going to be OK; this isn't a big deal. Whether or not that was true was highly debatable, but it was still better than the two of them walking in crying together.
They went inside the building, up the elevator to the fifth floor, and then down a couple of hallways until they reached a waiting room that George told Mary she should meet him in. She had hoped that she would be waiting a while for him so she could have a little time alone with her thoughts, but that was to no avail. George was standing in the room waiting for her when the couple walked inside.
He smiled at Mary and Wilson amiably before having Mary sign in and taking her to her room. Hospital rooms always freaked Mary out a little; she wasn't too keen on the less than homey feel they provided. Alas, she had no choice. She sat on the edge of the bed and Wilson stood beside her, taking her hand. She didn't bother to look over at him, and kept her eyes fixed on George.
"So," he asked Mary, "should we chat or can we get started?"
She answered him confidently. "Let's get started." George began to walk closer to Mary, pulling a cart with some instruments on it toward her bedside. He signaled for her to move back on the bed, but she didn't budge. Instead, she looked up at Wilson. "Would you mind stepping outside for a little bit? I'd really rather you not be in here."
He looked at her confused, but then caught on slightly. This was the first treatment that Mary had gotten, not counting the surgery, that Wilson had attended. There were certain aspects of herself that she was not yet ready for Wilson to see, at least not yet. They were close, but they have not gotten to a level of peak physical closeness. Their relationship had not called for it and there was a mutual unspoken decision not to go beyond kissing at this point.
Wilson smiled at Mary before exiting the room, not having said a word. They both knew that this was a sensitive subject, or would be whenever they found the courage to bring it up, and now was not the time for a discussion of their intimacy level- especially not in front of George.
"I'm not going to ask; it's not my business," George remarked after Wilson left.
Mary sighed. "You're right, it's not." She was not being rude, but earnest with him.
To her delight George did indeed drop it. He proceeded to explain the procedure in further details, showing the tools, and then set her up. He carefully inserted the apparatus that was to be used inside of her, but no matter how cautious he was, it still hurt Mary. As he set it into place, Mary raised her hips off the bed beneath her in pain. George noticed this but continued to do his job. That was what he was there for.
The whole thing took about ten minutes. When George and Mary were done, George went out to fetch his little brother in the hallway. Wilson, however, wasn't ready to go in just yet.
"Wait a second. Would you mind explaining to me what's going on? She's told me nothing and I don't like not knowing."
"If she doesn't want to tell you then I'm not supposed to tell you."
"But I'm not asking about Mary," he said strongly, "I am asking about the radiation- purely from a scientific standpoint."
George ran his fingers through his hair. "It's called brachytherapy. A small, sealed source of radiation is placed inside her body, where it will slowly leak out the medication she needs for twenty-four hours. It doesn't sound that great, but it's relatively harmless- especially compared to the regular type of radiation she has been getting recently."
"That doesn't sound too pleasant," Wilson commented.
"It's not, so be nice to her." George patted Wilson on the shoulder. "She'll be fine. This really isn't a big deal at all. Let's go back inside."
George and Wilson walked back into the room where they found Mary squirming about in the bed. She had a thin hospital gown on now, different from when Wilson saw her before, and she just looked funny. Wilson could tell that she was refusing to look up at her as she continually fidgeted around.
"Are you all right?" Wilson asked her.
Mary looked over at George. "You're in pain, right?" he asked his patient. She nodded and he approached her. "What's the pain like? How does it hurt?" She searched for words and he could plainly see that she was uncomfortable. George turned back to Wilson, stared at him, and Wilson walked out the door again without a word.
Mary sighed. "I hate myself."
George pulled up a chair next to Mary. "Don't hate yourself. Now, talk to me. Are you starting to think you're not going to be able to do this? Is this pain that bad?"
"It feels…I don't know. Tight."
"That's normal," he told her, relieved that what she was experiencing wasn't anything completely detrimental. "The radiation will do that to you. Not this radiation, the regular radiation. Can you hack it?" Again, she nodded. "OK, good. Well, you were my last stop for the night. I'm done working until Monday. I'll stay with you and Wilson for a little while if you want me to, though."
"No, that's OK. You've been working all day; I don't know how you do it. Go home and get some rest."
He smiled at her. "OK, but I'll be back tomorrow some time to check on you. There's no way of getting rid of me for good."
Mary laughed, thanked George, and he was out the door. Wilson reentered after George left, and Mary sighed heavily. Even though she knew George was right, she still hated herself right now. She shouldn't be pushing Wilson away. Actually, she should be doing the reverse, but the whole situation was very rough and touchy.
He sat down in the chair that George was in before and Mary picked up his hand. "Are you mad at me?"
"No," she answered bluntly.
"Are you sure?"
Mary squeezed his hand. "Yes."
Wilson looked into Mary's eyes. "Want to tell me what's going on?"
"I don't feel comfortable."
"Comfortable with what? Telling me what's wrong?"
"No, that's what's wrong, me not feeling comfortable. Now can we please just forget about it and change the subject?"
Wilson sighed. "Fine. Can I ask you how you're doing?"
"I'm cold," she said openly.
Wilson smiled and stood up, walking over to the section of the room where they had dumped their belongings when they first walked inside. He pulled a navy sweatshirt out of a bag for Mary and walked over to her with it. Wilson slipped it over Mary's head and adjusted it on her body so it covered her the way it was supposed to.
Mary smiled and breathed deeply into the neck of the oversized shirt. "It smells like you."
"Are you saying that I smell?" Wilson said jokingly.
"Sort of, I guess, but you smell good. I like the way you smell. It makes me feel warm inside."
The cold look in Wilson's eyes escaped. "You know what else I love about you? You're innocence. That's what you are; you're innocent."
"I am not," she said defensively.
He stood up and kissed the top of her head lightly. "I think it's sweet…and very sexy."
Mary grabbed both of Wilson's hands. "Speaking of sexy…"
He sat on the edge of the bed and watched her wince as the slight movement on the bed rocked her body. "Do you really want to do this now? Here?"
Mary thought about it for a second. She was confused; he understood what she was going to bring up, but shot her down immediately. Still, this was not how she had pictured their talk either. "No, I guess not. But soon?" she asked hopefully. Mary felt like this conversation was like a big concrete wall that neither of them could get past. They kept running into it face-first, with no regard for the shock and pain that always caused them.
"Sure," he answered quietly.
Mary and Wilson sat for a wile in the room, talking but not really saying anything of substance. Conversation, however, was better than none at all. Around 8:45, though, nearly 4 hours after George had left, Mary was starting to get tired. Wilson realized this and told her to lie down, but she still looked very uncomfortable.
"You all right?"
She nodded and accompanied by that was a yawn. Wilson got up from the bed, walked to the other side, and sat down again. He kicked his shoes off and got into the tiny bed next to Mary. She snuggled into him instantly, leaning her head against his chest but keeping the rest of her body straight. George had instructed her earlier not to move around too much, so she had kept almost perfectly still.
Wilson wrapped his arms around Mary and rubbed the side of her arm slightly with his right hand. As he leaned his head against hers, he felt her lips lightly graze his neck. He smiled and lifted one of her hands to his lips. "I love you Mary."
"I love you, too. Good night."
*
Wilson awoke the next morning with Mary still asleep at his side. Luckily, Mary was not guarding his arm with his watch on it. He lifted his wrist toward his face and read the time, 9:24. He sighed and looked down at his wife. He knew that she was dead sleep by the way she was leaning against him and he shallow breathing. He closed his eyes again, trying to get some sleep. That didn't work, though, so he laid there thinking about Mary. Without even realizing it, he kept one hand tenderly and constantly rubbing her body as he was deep in thought.
Mary was in and out of being awake for the rest of the day. Periodically, nurses would come in to check her vital signs and would smile happily at Wilson. They all thought that he was a good husband, especially since he was trapped underneath Mary's body.
After one of the nurses left, Wilson looked at his watch again. 2:15. Mary stirred lightly against him and reached her hand up to rub her eyes. "Wilson…" she mumbled.
"How are you doing sweetheart?"
"Fine. Tired," she responded sluggishly.
He caressed her cheek. "Sleep then. You still have a few more hours."
She nodded and conked out again. Wilson sighed and held her body close to his. She was so precious and special. He seemed to be captivated by her beauty, and in constant awe of everything she did and the way she lived her life. Even though she was sick, she rarely every acted like it unless it was unavoidable, and he was so proud of her that she could be that strong. Wilson kissed the top of her head. Not only did she did she posses all of those amazing characteristics, but she was his, too. He smiled to himself for a moment. Someone up there must really like him. He felt like the luckiest man in the world.
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A/N: So yes, in case you are wondering I am going to explore the sex thing more. Why? No, not because sex sells, but because that is the direction I have written myself into. I already have the next chapter written (I've had it done for months now) and that has the sex factor in it, and the one after that will, too. Still haven't decided what I am going to do with that. There are the obvious two choices I have, and I am leaning toward one, but I don't know how I am going to execute it. I guess we'll all just have to wait and see.
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Your reviews really lifted my spirits. I needed those.
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