Don't hate me

"Yes, okay . . . yes. Good-bye," Mu sighed, hanging up the phone downstairs.

"Who was it, Mu?" Murrue asked from her seat on the couch. Matthew was in her arms being fed while Evi sat on the floor, playing with her cloth doll and model plane—the same ones she was playing with when Mu came home. Mu stretched before answering, a numb feeling of pain shooting down his leg.

"The Military," he muttered sitting down beside her, arm going back to wrapping around her shoulders.

"Again?" It had been two weeks since he returned home and he had finally just gotten used to the fact that he was actually back. That's when the Military started calling him.

"Yes, again."

Before, when he was POW, he was still an active soldier, so his pay was sent straight home, and that was what Murrue and the two kids lived off of for those ten months when he was gone and Murrue couldn't really work. Now that he was back, they had to dance to a different tune. The family still needed money and though he was banned from being on the front lines anytime soon because of his leg—no doubt he'd be useful in other ways during this on-off 'Orb War.'

"Well, what do they want?" Murrue asked, turning towards him. Even Matthew's rarely seen blue-grey eyes stared back at Mu inquisitively.

"First off, I have to start going in at the end of the month. Nothing serious—I'll probably just sit behind a desk all day signing papers or something . . ."

"But why are you going in, Mu? You just got back."

"It was either me, or you. I couldn't very well let it be you, so I'm going in."

"What? No, you've already spent enough time away as it is. Evi and Matt . . . they need their father . . . Just like I do . . ."

"Murrue—"

"You're not the only one who's a soldier—let me go, I'll work—"

"No," his voice was startlingly harsh as his hand flew over her mouth, stopping Murrue mid-sentence. His blue eyes sparkled looking into hers. "If you go in, you'll sure as heck be sent out. Evi and Matt . . . they need their mother. Just like I do."

His fingers lightly wiped away wisps of hair that had fallen in her face. She leaned into his hand. Mu started forward but paused, glancing over at Evi—eyes already covered—and Matt who, surprisingly, was still staring at him with his big, blue eyes. Murrue smiled and slid her hand over the baby's eyes as the two connected for a soft kiss.

When they were finished, Mu ran his large hand over Matthew's dark fine hair, voice still soft and nurturing. "I'm going out, for all of us, so neither of us can leave." He laughed. "They're giving me a desk job, remember?"

Murrue blinked, blushing slightly. She'd completely forgotten that Mu was hurt—she thought he'd go out fighting again—like in the War five years before.

"Well," Mu yawned, stretching again as he stood up. "The second part of that call was that I have to go in today to pick up some papers and forms used for record purposes . . . I'll go get 'em and I'll be right back."

"No, you don't," Murrue stopped him with her hand, standing up as well, struggling to match his height. Evi looked on from the floor, confused—she cocked her head as Murrue took 'Mattie' and slid the child snuggly into Mu's arms. "You're staying right here. I have to go do some shopping anyways so I'll get those papers of yours too," she smiled, walking away.

She paused, stopping in her tracks, one hand lightly seeking support on the nearby table.

"Murrue?" Mu asked cautiously from behind her. Murrue nodded.

"I'm okay."

"You sure?" He reached out to her with his free hand.

"Yes, I'm sure. . ." She pushed his advance away and took a step, swaying as she did so. Mu quickly replaced his hand on her waist.

"No, you're not, come on . . ."

"I'm fine!" She shouted back, shoving him away. Matthew whimpered. Evi quietly turned her head away. And Mu, shocked, looked on as Murrue walked out the door. "I'll be back later," she called back in, a smile in her voice again. "—I'll see you then." As the door closed, Mu heard the whispers of her coughing from outside.

He was stunned—confused—scared—concerned . . . he couldn't chose which emotion held him.

In the past two weeks he had been home, several times had Murrue just paused in everything she was doing to just stand there and steady herself. Whenever he asked about it she'd be defensive, but never that defensive. He didn't understand it.

He stayed rooted to the spot until he heard the car start and drive away. They didn't always have a car, they lived a nice walking distance from both town and Military headquarters, so they didn't need one. Then Evi came . . .

. . . Evi . . . ? Mu turned around and looked around the room. Evi was gone. He heard his bedroom door close upstairs.—Sometimes she liked just staying in their room, so that wasn't what was troubling him . . . it was that . . . Evi was rarely quiet.

Matt stirred in his arms again.

---

He picked up the ringing phone, already calming himself down so he didn't burst if it was the Military calling him again for the third time that morning.—he was still on edge over what had happened with Murrue—she hadn't come home yet. Instead of the Military, a tentative, almost shy voice was on the other line.

"Ms. Murrue?"

"Uh, no, this is Mu LaF—"

"Oh!" A half smile showed in the woman's voice. "Mr. LaFlaga, glad to see you're back. How are things?" He was taken back by her sudden casual informality with someone she'd most likely never met. Mu didn't recognize the voice.

"Just fine . . . who is this?"

"Oh, sorry, I'm Ms. Addison, Murrue's doctor." She paused, probably expecting Mu to say something. He didn't—he never heard of 'Ms. Addison' or anything. The woman plowed through the rest of the call, never letting Mu to get a word in edge-wise even with how hard he tried.
"Yes, I just called to tell you that the tests came back positive, so that's a step up for us, and I really hope to see Murrue in my office today or tomorrow if possible so we can go over what this means. Maybe you can even come, but I doubt that, with the two kids and all . . . But it's no real loss, Murrue will tell you everything anyway. Good-day Mr. LaFlaga."

"Wait—" Too late, the woman had already hung up. "Uh, good-bye, Doctor . . ." He cocked his head, confused as he set the phone down.

"Mu . . . ?" Murrue's voice came from the doorway, snagging his attention. He hadn't heard her come in. Her face, if ever slight, held the trace emotions of confused fear. Her eyes ficked between his face and the phone—she heard the conversation at least.

"Murrue . . . I just got off the phone with your doctor . . ." Mu started, leaning lightly against the couch, not wanting to pass up the opportunity to satisfy his concerned curiosity. "She said 'the tests came back positive' and that she 'wants to see you tomorrow if possible.'" Mu forced a grin. "Judging by the way she said it, I doubt we're going to have another baby . . . so, what is it? What does she mean, Murrue?"

She was stunned, she couldn't believe it. She knew it was over, her hiding it. Slowly, Murrue dropped her bags and threaded her fingers nervously in front of her as she stepped forward.

"I-I'm sick," was all she could get out.

"Yeah, I know, bu—"

"No . . . Mu . . ." She looked into his eyes, the amber quickly welling up, startling Mu as she whispered her last words. ". . . It's . . .fatal . . ."

The floor fell out from beneath him and the thought of 'breathing' never crossed his mind.

"What?" Mu gasped, searching her eyes pleadingly as he grabbed her shoulders.

"T-this sickness I have," she quietly went on, knowing there was no turning back. "It-it'll kill me—in the end. There's n-no real cure for it, just pills that can keep it at bay." Mu's grip on her softened, the weakness in his head and chest was traveling to his hands.

"How . . .—"

"They don't know," Murrue said quickly, her trembling voice filled with emotion. ". . . Ten days or ten years, they don't know how long it'll be. Um, but there's this medicine out, and that's what the test was for. It was 'positive,' you said, so that means that if I take two pills a day now, it'll double my . . . time.—So, it could be twenty to forty years before it takes me." Her voice held a smile, the hope shining through.

Mu didn't share her optimism.

"But it could also be twenty days . . ." Something clicked in his mind and his voice turned harsh. "When were you going to get around to telling me this, Murrue?" Mu's thoughts flicked back to the morning, when Evi had turned away—he couldn't believe it. "They know . . . ?"

"Evi does," Murrue murmured, "but she doesn't know how my being sick will ultimately turn out."

Mu couldn't believe it. He couldn't believe her.

"Why didn't you tell me . . . Murrue?" His eyes planted their stare away from her as Murrue brought her hand to his face. He wouldn't look her in the eye.

"Mu, I was going to tell you, I was, but I wanted to be sure about what was happening before I said anything. And we had a lot on our plate before; I didn't think it was necessary."

There was absolute silence.

"What," he sarcastically 'laughed,' eyes never reaching her face as his voice hardened darkly, "am I supposed to crack a joke, because, right now, I really can't think of anything to say . . ."

He softly grabbed the hand she had cradling his face and brought it to his lips. His eyes never once reached her face as he kissed her hand lightly.

Without a word or a turn of his head, he walked away.