Good Things Come

by Mattiewilda

Sequel to Where You Least Expect It. Angela and Eric continue to navigate their relationship and their lives as new parents while Shawn works to rid himself of his past baggage as his wedding approaches. Jack and Rachel strive to build their family and Cory and Topanga try to find the beauty in imperfection.

11. Chapter 11

I know, I know. I'm terrible. It's been forever. I've just been so overrun with work lately it's hard to have time for anything else. But trust me, writing would be more fun than 10+ hour days, six days a week of my actual job. Maybe the lottery will pan out for me someday, lol. And I'm sorry for such a long wait with a Feeny cliffhanger of sorts. That seems especially mean. Such a long delay was unintentional. Work is kicking my butt.

Anyway, onto what you really care about. This is more like chapter 11 part 1. (I find that happens with my writing a lot.) The next chapter or two will more or less continue immediately after this and then the chapters after those will have a small time jump.

Thank you so much for your patience and your feedback. I sound like a broken record, but it is always appreciated, especially with the delays. :-)

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Hospitals were loud. Eric knew that was an odd thought to be having at a time like this, but it was all he could focus on. The clock ticking, pages over intercom system, nurses shoving clipboards into their slots, hell…even shoes were noisy. Sneakers squeaked and heels and other dress shoes clacked across the tile. It was a lot. How do patients rest and get better with all of the distractions? Suddenly, there was a new sound, softer, more soothing than the others: quiet music that sounded like it came from one of Georgia's toys. "What's that?"

His parents jumped, as did Angela. No one had spoken in quite a while. "Oh, they play a lullaby all throughout the hospital whenever a new baby arrives," Amy answered, finding her voice first.

"Did it happen with Georgia?"

She smiled, remembering the happier time spent in a waiting room. "Yes. Every time we heard the music that night we were excited and got our hopes up that she was born."

"Cool."

They fell silent again. Every once in a while Angela would get a text or a picture from Gina about the baby and, if it was especially cute, she'd share with the room.

"Mom! Dad!" Cory came running down the hall with Topanga trailing slightly behind, holding onto his hand. "What's going on? How is Mr. Feeny?"

They stood to greet them. "We haven't been given any updates since we last talked."

"But they're sure he had a stroke? It's not a mistake?"

"The doctors seem quite certain."

"Then it's a good thing you got him here," Topanga said.

"We knew something wasn't right no matter how fine he insisted he was."

"What happened?"

"We were in the yard talking to him and Lila about their trip to Rhode Island to visit friends this past weekend. He showing us the first edition books he found visiting the antiques mall up there when…I'm still not entirely sure what happened. It was like he wasn't there, just checked out mentally."

"He snapped out of it a few seconds later," Alan continued, "but his speech was slurred and he was putting words in the wrong order."

"That doesn't sound like Mr. Feeny at all."

"Exactly. He tried to shrug it off and blamed it on only having a light breakfast and no lunch, but when he turned around to go into the house he stumbled a bit, lost his balance, and dropped his books. He caught himself so he didn't fall or hit his head, but after that we decided not to chance it and called an ambulance."

Angela caught the dazed look on Topanga's face and led her over to the row of chairs and sat her down. She retrieved a bottle of water from the bag on the table. When she realized they were going to be waiting a while she hit up vending machines for a variety of drinks. "Here, you look like you could use this."

"Thanks, though my nerves could probably go for something a little harder."

"You want me to track down some mineral water," she joked. Topanga didn't laugh. "Come on, that was funny."

She offered a half smile, but it was phony and didn't reach her eyes. "Sorry, I just…it's Mr. Feeny. He's been a part of my life- our lives- forever. I can't imagine him not being…I'm so scared."

"I know. I am, too. Seriously though, I have juice and soda if you want something else."

"Water will be fine."

"How's Cory holding up?"

"About as well as any of us, I suppose. How is Eric?"

Her gaze wandered across the waiting room to her boyfriend, who was leaning against the wall seemingly involved in the conversation with Cory and their parents. However, Angela could tell from the look on his face that he wasn't really listening to them. "He's quiet, which means he's a nervous wreck. If he wasn't worried he'd be making jokes and trying to keep everyone's spirits up."

"Yeah, he's always been good at that."

"When are they going to tell us what's going on?" Cory's voice echoed throughout the waiting area. "I want to see him."

"Honey, the doctors are taking care of him and figuring out exactly what happened. Lila is with him so he isn't alone. They may not tell us anything or let us in to see him since, technically, we aren't family."

"How can you say we're not family?! I've known the man my whole life and our family has lived next door to-"

"Cory, calm down. I know you're worried- we all are- but ranting and raving won't fix anything."

He ran his hands across his face and exhaled. "Sorry, I just hate not knowing."

"We all do, but unfortunately, all we can do right now is wait. Come on, let's sit down," she said, leading him over to sit beside his wife.

"Did you get ahold of Shawn and Naomi," Alan asked.

"Yeah, they should be on their way soon. Since they just got back from Texas this is their first week back at work and Naomi tried, but they were short staffed and she couldn't leave early."

"And I left a message for Morgan to call after her last class."

"Is there anyone else we should call," Angela pondered aloud. "I know he doesn't have much family that he chooses to associate with, but those that are around should know, right?"

"We'll leave that up to Lila. I know he has a niece that he talks to and sees on occasion, but I'm not sure about anyone else."

"Oh, yeah, Eric, didn't you go on a date with Mr. Feeny's niece," Cory asked his brother, attempting to lighten the mood. He received no response. Eric continued to lean against the wall, arms crossed, staring blankly across the room. "Hello, earth to Eric."

Angela went over to him and ran her hand along his arm, effectively snapping him out of whatever trance he was in. "Hey, it's okay," she soothed when he about hit the ceiling, "just me. Are you all right?"

"Y-yeah." He sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just hate this. I hate all of it."

"I know, me, too. You want to go take a walk, get some fresh air and get out of here for a few minutes?"

"No. I'm not going anywhere until we know what happened. I can't leave Feeny."

"Okay." She wrapped her arms around him and held him tight. "Do you want me to text Gina and ask her to send me more pictures and videos of Georgia for a distraction?"

He nodded. "I need a reason to smile right now."

She retrieved her phone from her pocket and quickly sent the text. "Done. Anything else I can do?"

"Stay here with me?"

"You don't even have to ask that."

"Then tell me everything is going to be okay."

She bit her lip and found herself unable to look Eric in the eye. She wanted Mr. Feeny to come walking from behind the swinging doors, apologize for scaring everyone, and say it was a false alarm or even the world's meanest prank, but the odds of that happening were next to impossible.

"You can't say it, can you," he questioned after the silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

"If it helps, I wish I could. Believe me. I want nothing more."

"I guess that has to be good enough for now."

"Come on," she said, linking her arm through his. "Let's go sit with everyone else and you can tell me about the time you dated Mr. Feeny's niece."

His head snapped up. "Who told you about that?"

"A little birdie mentioned it."

"Cory, you've got a big mouth."

"What did I do?"

"We only went out once or twice when Jessica was in town visiting Feeny."

"That's it." Cory snapped his fingers. "Jessica. That was her name. She was really pretty, too."

"You know, I'm kind of surprised you didn't try to make it work with this Jessica and marry her," Angela said.

Eric's mind immediately went to the rings he had hidden in a closet at home. Was she onto him somehow? "What do you mean?"

"Well, you love Mr. Feeny so much I figured you'd jump at the chance to be related to him." She nearly laughed at his expression. "That just occurred to you, huh?"

"Sort of, yeah. But I was only fifteen when I took her out. I wasn't looking for a commitment. I was thinking, 'oooh, pretty.' That was my main priority: pretty girl on my arm to kiss me and laugh at my jokes. And even then laughing at my jokes wasn't that important."

"Lucky for me."

"It worked out for me, too."

Angela leaned forward for a lingering kiss. "Good to hear."

The reprieve from the stress was short lived as moments later Lila came out from behind the doors accompanied by a doctor. She held her hands up before anyone could even say a word. "Before you ask- I'm fine. George is…as okay as he can be given the situation, and I asked Dr. Powell here to come explain what is going on because I would surely screw it all up. So, Dr. Powell…" she paused and gestured to the doctor, "take it away."

Eric clung to Angela's hand, listening as the doctor threw around terms like ischemic, left frontal brain, limited right mobility, aphasia, dysphagia, I.V., oxygen, serious condition, and intensive care. He didn't know what most of it meant, but he was pretty sure it was all bad. His parents were asking questions, but though he heard their voices, the words didn't make sense. Hell, nothing made sense to him right now. Maybe he should've gone to medical school. He could've been a doctor and would understand everything and been back there helping to take care of-

"-but the good thing is George got to the hospital very early on. Believe me when I say that early treatment can make a world of difference."

"So that means he's going to be okay," Cory asked.

"Son, I'm not in the habit of making promises, but I will say is that he's stubborn as a mule and I'd give him a fighting chance."

"He certainly is stubborn," Lila agreed with a chuckle. "He's pulled out his I.V. six times already."

"Way to go, George," Alan said. "Give 'em hell."

"Oh, that he is. If the nurses do not go home tonight in tears of frustration, questioning their career choices, I will be surprised."

Eric stood and spoke quietly, "Um, doctor…is there…I mean should we have known? Were there warning signs we missed?" He shoved his hands into his pockets. "I was with him not too long ago picking up something from his house and I thought he seemed fine. He was a little tired, but I figured he's old. Tired comes with the territory. No offense Dean Feeny."

Lila walked over to Eric and gave him a hug. That had been among her first questions when they arrived at the hospital. Did she miss something? Did she fail her husband in some way by not seeing the signs? "You picked up the desk a couple weeks ago. Dr. Powell assured me the absolute earliest a sign of his particular stroke would've been seen was about a week prior. If there were symptoms they were either so slight George himself didn't notice or he simply shrugged them off as something else, something minor." She pulled away and forced Eric to look at her. "There is nothing you could've seen or done to prevent this, okay? Playing the blame game is useless."

His vision was blurred with tears and he blinked furiously in an effort to eliminate them. If Lila could remain calm then surely he could hold himself together. "Okay," he whispered. "Can we see him?"

"They're a little strict on who they let into intensive care, but I'm working on that."

"Yes, Lila explained to me your unique familial relationship with the patient and I am happy to inform you that hospitals- most hospitals at least- are loosening up their definition of what family means. In our eyes, if you are important to the patient, that makes you family, blood relation or not. And you are all important to George. However, at the moment he needs his rest. These early hours are very crucial for treatment and recovery."

"Oh. I see. Thank you." He felt Angela's arms encircle his waist and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, almost feeling as if he needed her support to remain upright. He didn't argue when she ushered him to a couch in a quiet corner.

"Are you okay?" When he didn't respond, Angela cupped his face in her hands and made him look at her. "Hey, talk to me."

Eric shook his head and gently pushed her away. "Not now."

She didn't give him the distance he sought. "Don't go trying to pull some macho, tough guy act. That's not you and never has been. You've always been the one with the biggest heart and you wear it proudly on your sleeve. If you need to cry, cry. I won't think less of you."

"It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

Though his eyes were still watery he didn't feel the intense wave of emotion as he had a few moments ago with Lila and the doctor. "There's too much going on." He waved his hands around his head. "It's a jumble in my brain. I don't know what I'm thinking or feeling right now. I-I'm...I don't know."

"In shock," she suggested, "numb?"

"Numb sounds about right. We'll go with that until I think of a better word. What I really want to do is see Mr. Feeny, but since they won't let me then I just want to sit here."

"Just sit here and say nothing?"

"Yes."

Angela laced their fingers together- clutching his hand between both of hers'- and rested her head on his shoulder. "Okay."

/

"What's the plan," Topanga questioned the doctor.

"Excuse me?"

"The plan, protocol, how are you treating him?"

Cory patted her hand. "You'll have to excuse my wife. She's a lawyer."

The doctor nodded. "Ah."

"What does me being a lawyer have to do with anything? I'm concerned about Mr. Feeny and-"

He scanned his chart, having been given permission by his patient's wife to discuss the generalities of his condition with the room. "Our current plan is to continue to monitor him, track his brain activity, and watch for signs of another stroke. He will also begin physical therapy almost immediately. The sooner that starts the better."

"When can he go home?"

"That may be a while. You see, even after he is released from the hospital he will likely need extensive physical therapy and we have a number of fine rehabilitation homes for him to continue his recovery."

The realization that this wasn't going to be a quick fix for Mr. Feeny was seemed to hit the group at once, lulling them into a quiet shock. He wasn't going to get better overnight. It was going to be a long, potentially painful process and he might never be the same again.

"However," the doctor continued, "we won't consider releasing him until he's proven able to eat and drink on his own."

"He can't eat?"

"We don't know yet. Sometimes patients who need to relearn how to speak need to learn a new way to eat, drink, and swallow so as not to aspirate. Until we determine the extent of his muscle weakness he is receiving all of his nutrition through a feeding tube." Dr. Powell could see he had darkened the mood of the room considerably. "But I must stress this is not uncommon for stroke patients, as scary as it seems. It's fairly typical. And, all things considered, George is doing well and you have every reason to be optimistic."

"But you can't promise," Cory asked again.

The doctor smiled sadly. "I learned very early in my medical career to never guarantee, good or bad."

"What do you mean bad? What's a bad guarantee?"

"When I was in my first year I worked with a doctor who told a woman she had less than a year to live. Miraculously she went into remission."

"That doesn't sound bad to me."

"She sued. Turns out she quit her job, gave away all her stuff, spent her money, finished her bucket list…she was ready to die. When she didn't, she sued."

"What happened?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss that." He turned to Lila. "We should get back to your husband now."

She nodded. "Right. I will keep you all updated as best I can."

Amy rushed over and hugged her tight. "Don't worry about us. Take care of him and yourself. Let us know if you need anything or anyone you want us to call."

Lila squeezed her hands in return. "I will. But it's the poor staff assigned to George you should pity. I thought he was bad with the sniffles." She shook her head and sighed. "However, I'd take him whining with sniffles and a cold over this any day. No question." She hugged Amy once more before disappearing behind the doors with the doctor.

Everyone sat down again, in a daze trying to absorb the information just given to them by the doctor. After an extended silence, Alan spoke up. "If you kids want, you can go get some dinner. We'll let you know if there's any more news."

The answer was virtually a unanimous, "No."

"You and mom can go. We'll wait and call you if there is any more news."

"Yeah, I don't feel much like eating anyway," Topanga added. The rest of the group agreed.

"I guess we're all staying put then," he concluded.

Amy stood. "Actually, I am going to make a few calls. I have to get back to Morgan because she's sent me about thirty texts in the past five minutes. Then I'm going to check on Josh at Tyler's house and make sure he's doing his homework and then I will call George's niece. Lila just sent me a text with her phone number." She felt useful having something to do. It beat sitting around. "I'll be back."

Cory got up and moved around their little area of the waiting room, eventually walking laps around the chairs. "How is this happening? It's not supposed to be happening. Doesn't the universe know that Mr. Feeny is untouchable?"

"No one is untouchable, Cory. Not even Mr. Feeny."

"No offense, dad, but that's just wrong." He picked up his pace as he ranted. "There should be a law about who you're allowed to mess with and who you're not. And Mr. Feeny is at the very top of the not list. He outranks the pope, the queen, and whoever else most people would put on the list. Mr. Feeny is number one."

Topanga covered her eyes. "Cory, sit down. You're making me dizzy."

He sat momentarily before jumping up again. "I can't just sit here and do nothing."

"Mom and I said you could go eat and we would-"

"I don't want to leave the hospital."

"Then I'm afraid your options are limited. They're not going to let you go back there and run the MRI machines."

"We could donate blood," Topanga suggested. "It may not go to Mr. Feeny, but it would help somebody, especially with your rare blood type."

"You know even the thought of needles and-and blood makes me…" Cory sat down beside his wife and put his head between his knees. "…give me warning before you say that."

"Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to."

"I'll do it, but I need to mentally prepare. Maybe tomorrow." He took a few more deep breaths before sitting up straight again. "Hey, Angela?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you have any new pictures of the munchkin for us to ooh and aah at to break the tension over here?"

She and Eric were still hand in hand as they rejoined everyone else in the middle of the room. "We were just about to take another look at the pictures Gina sent me earlier for the same reason. They're adorable, but then we're biased." She dug her phone out of her pocket when it chimed again. "Man, I guess I'll have no choice but to cave and get Georgia a dog for her fifth birthday like you've been promising her since before she was even born," she said to Eric.

"What do you mean? And who are you kidding? You know you want a dog, too." He melted when he saw the picture. "Aw. And Moose just let her fall asleep on him like that?"

"Apparently. By the way, when we do get a dog, it's not going to be that big."

"What do you have against Mastiffs?"

"For one thing, his drool puts Georgia's to shame and-"

"Hey, if you're going to bicker could you at least pass the phone around and give the rest of us something to look at?" Cory accepted the phone. "Is it safe for her to be sleeping on the dog?"

Angela resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "She was moved right after the picture was taken."

"Oh, okay." He scrolled through the pictures, unable to keep the grin off his face. "I definitely need to see my little munchkin before we go back to New York. You said she's waving now, right?"

"She waves, blows kisses, and discovered her feet- so that's something else to go into her mouth. She's also babbling like crazy. It almost sounds like talking. I don't want to get too excited, but I think we're close to our first word."

"I'm assuming you're pulling for mama?"

"Eric got her first smile and was the first person she crawled to. My dad got her first laugh. I'd like to think I'm worthy of a first. It's only fair."

"One thing you will learn about parenthood," Alan began, "like life, it is very rarely fair."

/

/

"Topanga said to take elevator to the fourth floor," Naomi rattled off to Shawn as they hurried across the parking lot. "We'll have to be buzzed into the ICU, but that's the same at any hospital."

"Uh-huh."

"She's been texting me updates and it really sounds like they have a handle on the situation." After pausing to push through the revolving door, she continued the conversation. "And it sounds like Mr. Feeny is in good hands. Do you want to stop and the gift shop first? I know you like the candy bars that-" She looked behind her but Shawn was nowhere to be found. After another trip through the revolving door Naomi found her fiancé sitting on a bench outside. "What are you doing?"

"I can't go in there."

"But, Shawn-"

"I'm sorry, I thought I could, but I can't." His gaze remained fixed on the pavement. "You go. I'll wait right here."

She sat beside him on the bench. "You're not a jinx. Bad things won't happen to Mr. Feeny just because you set foot in the hospital."

He met her eyes with a sad smile. "Bad things are already happening. Why risk making them worse?"

"I'm not going to argue with you on this. If you really don't want to go inside I won't force you."

"But?"

"One: you know Cory will do everything short of knocking you unconscious and putting you into a bed of your own to get you inside." She was relieved to get a genuine laugh out of him. "And two: you went with Jack to visit Calum after he was born and still in the hospital and he came home a day or two later. You weren't a jinx there."

"I never claimed this was a logical issue. And I'll try to come inside in a little while, okay?"

She nodded. "You want me to sit with you until you're ready?"

"What I really need is for you to find out what the hell is going on with Mr. Feeny and then come back and break down all the medical language into something even an idiot like me can understand."

"You're not an idiot." Naomi kissed him before standing. "I'll be back soon. I love you."

"I love you, too, Nomi." Shawn took a deep breath and lean back against the bench. He stared up at the sky. The clouds were masking what would've been and otherwise beautiful sunset, he could tell from the streaks of orange and purple peeking out from behind the wall of gray. Though he supposed it fit the mood of the evening. It would feel wrong to bear witness to a glorious natural occurrence when God knows what was happening to Mr. Feeny.

God. Now there was a landmine. Did he believe in God? A god? Gods? Shawn never could quite decide where he fell on the topic of religion. Part of him wanted to believe in this all-knowing, loving being watching out for and protecting us. He craved the certainty and security the devout seemed to have. But he could never rectify that with all the bad that existed. What kind of higher power would bring suffering to someone as wonderful as Mr. Feeny? Why him of all people?

"Good evening, Shawn!"

"Aah!" Shawn twisted around to look for the source of the voice and fell off the bench, landing on the cement. Within seconds a shadow towered over him, eclipsing his limited view of the sunset. "With the way my luck goes I'm going to guess that today is the day the supernatural has decided to prove their existence and come get me?" He grimaced and rubbed his elbow. "Though I gotta admit, I kind of thought you'd sound like James Earl Jones. I don't know why."

"Shawn, it's me, Frankie. Frankie Stecchino?" He knelt down and extended his hand to help Shawn up. "I went to high school with you and Cory Matthews. Perhaps you remember me by my unfortunate nickname, The Enforcer?"

"Relax, Frankie, I know you." He was surprised at the seemingly effortless tug on Frankie's behalf to get him to his feet. Shawn suspected, even in his trimmed down state, The Enforcer could still toss him over his shoulder and stuff him into a locker if he really wanted.

"Then why did you jump like you thought I was going to steal your lunch money again?"

"You surprised me. That's all. What are you doing here?"

"I heard the distressing news about our beloved Mr. Feeny and I'm here to lend my support. Isn't that why you're here?"

"Yeah…and who knows, maybe I'll make my way inside at some point." He sat down again. "You see, I don't do hospitals. I hate them, lots of bad memories."

"Would you like to walk in with me? Sometimes it's easier facing challenges with a friend by your side."

Shawn couldn't help but notice that as the clouds parted and more sunlight shone through, it gave the former bully a halo effect. While it suited the poetic nature in his heart, he still made for one weird angel. "Thanks, I appreciate it, but I think I'm going to stay out here for a while." He watched Frankie reach into a bag he hadn't noticed before and he pulled out a large chocolate chip cookie. It was easily the size of his face. "What's that for?"

"Every time I've been in a waiting room it always takes forever. I thought snacks would be appreciated."

"I'm sure they will."

"I'm going to go check on Mr. Feeny."

"If you see Cory could you tackle him and stop him from trying to talk me into coming inside?"

Frankie nodded. "I will do what I can."

"Thanks." Once he was alone again Shawn found himself focusing on the garbage can of all things. The crushed beer cans shoved down the sides were taunting him. It would be almost too easy to sneak over to the bar around the corner, have a drink or two to calm his nerves, and be back before anyone knew he was gone. It would be easy, but it wouldn't help. It wouldn't help his family and friends brave enough to be sitting inside the hospital, it wouldn't help his sorry ass sitting outside, and it definitely wouldn't help Mr. Feeny. He took his phone out of his pocket and didn't even think as he went through his contacts. It was almost automatic at this point. Before he knew it, the phone was ringing…until it wasn't. And he found himself offering an explanation before the person on the other end could even offer a greeting. "I'm sorry. I know it's probably dinnertime for your family or I'm screwing up time with your kids, but things are really messed up right now."

"Shawn? What's going on?"

"Mr. Feeny's in the hospital. They think it was a stroke or something. I'm not sure. We just got here and Nomi went inside to find out more."

"Where are you?"

"Me? Oh, I'm where I normally am when shit goes down and people need me. I'm sitting outside trying to hold it together."

"Shawn, don't-"

He laughed humorlessly. "And I am not holding it together very well."

"Which hospital?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm driving down."

"You don't have to do that. It's four hours away and you have kids and a wife and I don't need a baby-sitter."

"Hey, I care a lot about George Feeny, too. He was a coworker and a friend. I want to be there for him, for you, and I'm guessing the Matthews are there as well."

"They always are."

"What hospital?"

"The same one you were in after your accident," he choked out after several tense seconds. That incident was one of the reasons he detested hospitals in the first place.

"Got it. See you in a few hours."

"Thanks, Jon."

/

/

"And just hit this button if you need anything." The nurse held up a remote to Lila. "Dr. Powell should be back within a half hour to go over the latest scan results. And you," she began, staring at George, "try to keep all of the tubes, needles, and monitors in place this time, okay? It's not fun for me to run back here fifty times, unless this is your way of invoking revenge on past students." She saw the surprise in his eyes. "I was in your sixth grade class in 1983. We were a particularly rambunctious group and you always joked about revenge when we were adults and didn't see it coming." She laughed softly and touched his arm. "Mission accomplished, Mr. Feeny. Try to get some rest now."

"Thank you, nurse…"

"Michelle. Well, back then it was Michelle R. There were five of us in the class. I was the good one." One of the machines started beeping and she rushed back towards the bed. "Okay, fine, most of the time I was the good one. Now leave the oximeter in place."

"I don't think it will be an issue anymore," Lila said. "You can go take a needed coffee break."

"Just page if you need us."

Once they were alone Lila pushed a chair closer to the bed and sat down. It was the first time they've been alone since everything happened. When she woke up this morning this was not how she envisioned spending her day. Then again, she supposed no one saw this stuff coming. No one ever thought it would happen to them. "You know if you really wanted this much fuss to be made about you, you should've just let me throw you the birthday party when I wanted to. But no, you have to be dramatic about it," she teased with a smile.

"Fuss…want…I don't…"

"Shh, the doctor said not to talk right now. And it's too late to worry about the fuss. There is a whole crowd of people out there wanting to know how you are."

"Home."

"No talking. And yes, people love you and are worried and they are not going home until they know you are okay." George's hands were riddled with tubes and bruises from blood draws, so she rested her hand on his forearm. "Have the past ten years been that rough you're going to try and weasel a loophole to get out of our eleventh anniversary next month?"

She was joking, but the tremble in her voice, tears in her eyes, and unsteady hand gave her away. Seeing what this was doing to her was far worse for George than whatever he was going through at the moment. Though awkward and almost painful, he reached with his left hand- now his dominant hand- and took her hand that rested on his other arm. He held it over his heart. Though currently robbed of most verbal communication, he hoped Lila understood what he was trying to convey. When a smile graced her features he knew she had.

"I love you, too, George."