Disclaimer: I own nothing but the scenes of Karen's life, and if I had the time, I'd be inventing my own characters to use, rather than borrowing someone else's and getting no money. Alas, I do not, and so I make nothing, but thrill in putting these characters through my own imagination!
A/N: Karen may get a little OoC as the fic goes on, but at least I'm warning you, and I'm sure the circumstances and context make it alright! I hope.
Summary: Sometimes there's something behind you and you're just waiting for the time when it catches up with you, it affects every scene of your life, and yet no matter how bad, you wouldn't change it because ofthe things it brought you. Karen reflects as her 'something' catches up with her. No POV's this time, and flashbacks.
Please enjoy! And thanks again to Mars for making me post this early and for beta-ing it!

Weakness and Strength

You're the one who held me up
Never let me fall
You're the one who saw me through it all
You were my strength when I was weak
(
Because You Loved Me, Celine Dion)

Of course it hadn't always been like that, they'd had the same problems any family faced. Arguments over whether to convert the twelfth bedroom into another study or a film room, heated discussions as to whether it was really right to give Mason a cold meats room of his own. But through all of it they'd stuck together as a family. When people asked her, she'd forget her children's names, stress the size of her husband, and laugh eccentrically until they moved on. She'd had a reputation to uphold after all. But she would never have replaced her husband in that first year, through the first treatment. He'd been her rock through it all, and it had brought them so much closer in the end, solidifying the love that at the time she thought they'd always have. She hated looking back to that time, almost as much as she loved looking back. A truer bittersweet moment she had never had, and it was because of the sweetness that she wouldn't trade it for the world.

: flashback :

She lay on the bed, the covers pulled to her chin, destined once more for the floor as soon as the chills finished, and the flushes began. Her face was white, blending in with the pillow case beneath it, her rosy cheeks standing out in stark relief.

Stan sat in a chair beside her, drawn up close to the bed, a damp cloth in his hand. Raising the cloth again, he stroked it gently across her forehead, trying to sooth his wife as well as soak up the film of perspiration that never seemed to disperse no matter how cold Karen's body felt. Her lips were drawn tight in a scowl, her eyebrows pinched into a frown; even in sleep she could find no respite from the illness.

It was hard for him to watch her like this. The strong woman he knew and loved, had been reduced to the frail creature beside him, who's only words spoke of the pain and misery coursing through her body. She hadn't wanted him to see her like this, at first, when she'd been strong enough; she'd locked him from the room, stopping all but Rosario from entering. Gradually she'd weakened, as the treatment went to work; killing off the cells of her body, both the bad, and the good, and she'd been unable to deny him entry any longer. She'd grip his hand tightly when awake, the only indication sometimes that she was, and he'd stroke her hair softly, whispering promises for the future, until once again, she slipped into a restless sleep.

Hearing her breathing shift slightly, he placed the cloth on the bedside cabinet, and drew one of her small hands into his own, drawing small circles on her palm with his thumb. Her fingers tightened inside his own, and he looked down into her barely open eyes.

"Hey Sweetie. I've missed you." He didn't include a question of her welfare in his whispered speech, there was little point; he could see that she wasn't well, he didn't need for her to tell him.

Her response was little more than a moan, and it took all he had to continue gazing into her pain filled eyes.

"Rosie says that you have to wait another hour before you can have anything for the pain, or nausea Sweetheart, but is there anything else I can get you? You really should try to drink something."

He watched her swallow around her dry throat, and waited for her words, hoping that today was a good day, and they wouldn't include any subtle suggestions of euthanasia, he knew he wouldn't be able to handle that again. He hadn't truly handled it the last time.

"Gin on the Rocks would be great right about now Honey." Her voice was rough and ragged; lower than he was used to, but stronger than it had been, and he found himself smiling down at her.

"I'm sure it would, how about we pretend that that is exactly what this glass of water contains?" The tiny smile he received made it all worthwhile. He could almost see His wife again. He didn't try to make her sit up, but simply lowered the half-full glass to her lips until she'd taken a few sips. Wiping the spilt drops off of her chin, he noticed a bit more of her natural colour in her skin. After just over a week, the relief was almost overwhelming. She wasn't out of the woods yet, but so long as nothing happened, she would be soon; she was on the right track now anyway. Unsure what to say next, he was saved the trouble when Karen spoke up herself.

"Honey, could you tell me about your day, and what's going on with the Kiddies?"

"Sure I can Sweetie." It was the first time she'd shown an active interest in anything since the treatment began. Smiling brightly, Stan settled more comfortably in the over-stuffed chair, and resumed stroking her palm, his voice softly re-telling the last few days.

This was definitely a good day.

:end flashback:

tbc.


Ok, since this was a pretty short chapter, I've gone ahead and posted the next one too, which is actually a lot longer, and my favourite chapter so far! I really hope you enjoyed this, and please review both chapters, because I'm a review junkie and I need it! Oh and don't forget to read the new parts of Mars2192's fic, because they're brilliant and angsty, and you've just gotta love them!