Disclaimer: This isn't mine.

A/n: Thank you for the reviews! You guys rock!

Perseus and Andromeda Up in the Sky

A story by Ryeloza

Chapter One

June 1, 2008

Dear Lynette,

I want to see you smile.

Do you know that that's been something I've strived for since the minute we met? The very first time I saw you, you turned and looked at me with just this little hint of a smirk, and I thought, God, I bet she looks beautiful when she smiles. So, yes, when I cracked that joke about inappropriate behavior in an elevator (which, in retrospect, was quite a bit at Annabel's expense), it was just to see if I was right about your smile. Except you didn't laugh; you gave me that Tom, you're insane look that I've come to know and love, and it wasn't until three days later when we were alone and I made that bad pun about fruit punch that I finally saw you grin. And I was right—you were completely, drop-dead gorgeous. And every single day since then all I've wanted is to make you smile like that again.

Lately, that's been harder and harder to do.

Okay, so maybe agreeing to let your mother stay here was a terrible idea. But, sweetie, she pleaded with me. I know, I know. I told you that it was all about the money. You want the truth? She offered me the money and I said no. Do you think I don't have reservations about trusting her with our children? Do you think I don't realize that money comes with strings attached? But she stood there and she practically begged me. Lynette, she wants a second chance with you. To make things right or to try to form a relationship with you after all these years or something; I'm not sure, but I do know that she's convinced that this is her last chance. I know you don't want to hear this; I know that if I actually had the courage to say this to you that you'd probably deck me, but I agreed to this for you. If your mom is finally willing to make that effort with you after all these years…You need this, honey, for your own well-being. If you can finally make peace with your mom, I think you'll be happier. And, God, this sounds so condescending, but I don't care. For once I'm putting my foot down. Not actually admitting any of this to you, of course, but putting my foot down all the same.

So let's recap: I invited your mother to stay here behind your back; the past year of our marriage has been an emotional roller coaster; we have five kids running amok; and you have a serious illness that you've decided should remain a secret because heaven forbid you receive comfort and support from the people who love you. That covers the bad, right? How about the good? Your mother, while utterly frustrating, has actually provided us with money we desperately need so you can get better; we have kids that you wouldn't trade for anything in the world; you have friends who would do anything for you; the doctor says that you have every chance in the world of beating this; and I love you more than I could possibly ever tell you. But, somehow, no matter how often I tell you this, you're sinking further and further into a depression that I'm scared I won't be able to pull you out of. So back to my problem: how do I get you to smile?

Jokes haven't been working. I asked you to dance at the wedding tonight and you didn't want to. Even when Orson got really drunk tonight and sang with the wedding band until security dragged him off stage, you didn't even crack a smile. I'm really not sure how to top that. I need to come up with something, though. I need to. Because when you smile, I smile. And if you want the truth, I could really use a good laugh about now.

The phone let out a piercing ring, and Tom groaned, rolling over and pressing his face into his pillow. Lynette answered before a second ring even sounded, and he let the soft cadence of her voice wash over him without listening to her words. By the time she hung up, he was almost asleep again, only becoming alert when she got out of bed.

"What's going on?" he mumbled into the pillow. Lazily, he opened an eye to look at his wife, surprised to find her pulling on jeans. "Lynette?"

"That was Carlos. He's at the hospital."

"With Gaby?"

"What? No. Edie." Lynette came over, sitting down on his side of the bed to put on her sandals. "He said she tried to kill herself? I don't know."

"What?"

"I'm going down there to see what's going on. I have to—I said I'd call Susan and Bree…" Lynette shook her head and sighed, suddenly stopping her frenetic movements and turning to face him. After a second, she lay down next to him, reaching out to run her hand over his cheek. "I don't understand why Edie, of all people…I always thought…" She trailed off uncertainly.

Tom gave her reassuring kiss. "You never know what's really going on with people."

"I know." Lynette pinched the bridge of her nose, rubbed her hand over her face and sighed. She seemed on the verge of saying something else, but after a second, she just patted his chest and sat up. "I'll use the phone downstairs. You should go back to sleep."

"Sweetie, you need to sleep."

"I'll be back in a little while," she said, only acknowledging his remark with a slightly tender look. She blew him a kiss and left the room. Of course, there was no chance he was going back to sleep. The room practically groaned with Lynette's absence, and the news throbbed in his head like a bad headache. Irrationally, he was mostly annoyed that this was just one more bad thing to have happened. At some point, the universe had to cut them a break.

Without any particular logic to the decision, Tom got out of bed and tugged on his bathrobe. It wasn't even one yet, but being so abruptly woken had put him on edge. There was no point tossing and turning in bed until Lynette came home. Quietly, he crept out into the hall, tiptoeing past the kids' rooms, only to nearly jump out of his skin when he heard Stella hiss his name. "Jeez," he whispered, turning to face his mother-in-law. "What are you doing up?"

"I heard the phone. What's going on?"

"Nothing." And then, realizing who he was dealing with, he added, "Just a problem with one of the neighbors."

"Oh really? A neighbor?" Stella raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. For the life of him, Tom couldn't figure out what she was implying. "Are you sure it's not a booty call?"

"What? No!"

Stella shrugged. "Well first Lynette skulks out of here and now you're creeping around…And I know what's been going on lately. You know, with Rick…"

"Oh my God." Tom shook his head, disgusted, and continued down the hall. He had no idea where Stella had heard about Rick; certainly Lynette hadn't told her. There was no way in hell he intended to discuss his marital problems with her, though. Unfortunately, Stella followed him, all the way downstairs where the only saving grace was that Lynette was already gone.

"You know I'm only concerned about you," Stella persisted, raising her voice now that they were in the kitchen. Tom looked at her incredulously, and then grabbed a beer from the fridge. He never should have left his room. "If your marriage is on the rocks—"

"Our marriage is none of your business!"

"I don't know how you figure that."

Tom laughed. It was the only alternative to strangling her. "The last time I saw you, Lynette had just told me she was pregnant with Penny. And, let's see, that was five years ago? Yeah," he said, unable to keep the sarcasm from lacing his voice. "Five years ago. So I think that gives me the right to tell you to butt out."

"I'm just worried about you two."

"Yeah. I'm sure."

"I am. I know better than anyone about the hell my daughter is about to go through. I just want to make sure she's not going to go through it alone."

Tom sighed, the fight going out of him, though he was no less annoyed. Stella was uniquely obnoxious, overprotective of her children in the most bizarre, backward way. Not one of her daughters knew that, though, because with them, Stella was a singularly prickly, prodding, horrid person. Even Tom could barely process the idea that Stella was looking out for Lynette's well-being; mostly, it seemed like she was trying to cause trouble.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said stiffly. "And this is the last time you're going to bring this up, to me or to Lynette. Whatever is going on is between me and her. I won't let you make it worse."

Stella gave him an appraising look. "Fine. I'll keep my yap shut."

Tom nodded. He figured it was fifty-fifty that she'd keep her word.