We've got a lot of plot happening right now, so enjoy some good ole hurt/comfort as we keep on truckin. I'm still out of town for a couple of days. As always, thank you for all the love and reviews. You guys are my muse.

Hercules told us that he could rush the suits in about a month's time. I stood on a stool in his and Lafayette's living room while he pinned fabric around me.

"Just a couple more weeks." He said around the pins in his mouth.

"Yup, end of February." I agreed, trying to stay standing still and straight backed to avoid the prod of a pin.

"You excited?"

"Incredibly!" Lafayette announced behind me.

"No, John and Alex. We know you're excited,"

I let out a chuckle, cautious not to move, "yeah, we are excited."

"You're much better at this than John."

"Hey!" John whined from the sofa where he was chatting with Lafayette.

"You can't stay still," Lafayette shrugged, "has he ever made you run or swim with him?"

"No?" I looked over my shoulder at them.

"You will die." Lafayette groaned.

"I'm not that fast."

"In high school, he broke the state record for the 5,000 meters run. What was your time, Jack?"

John grumbled, "14:52."

I did the math in my head, "holy shit, John. That's like incomprehensible."

He stared at the floor, "didn't you ever wonder why my knee pops when I crouch down, or why I keep my legs straight when we sit for a long time?"

"Not really… figured the same reason my wrist does when I write too much."

"Yeah, basically. Blew out my knee the first meet of senior year. They had to do surgery. Lost my scholarship, that's why I didn't become a doctor… Was supposed to be on full ride to a university in Geneva, my dad was already disappointed that I wasn't going to study law like him, so I went for it and told him I was coming to New York to study art right there in my hospital bed."

He rubbed his knee through his jeans and stared at it. Lafayette stroked the other one.

"I followed him because I could not bear the thought of my best friend limping through this big city." Laf said proudly.

"Limping?" my eyebrows crawled toward each other.

"I walked with a cane for a couple months, barely off of it in time for graduation. I couldn't walk across stage like that. But I limped for a while. Physical therapy does some amazing stuff. You wouldn't know it today."

Hercules patted my leg, "alright, buddy, you're free."

I stepped off the stool and sat by John, wrapping an arm around him. He continued staring at the offending joint. I put my hand over his on his knee.

"That when you went all bad boy?"

"Nah, I started drinking and partying when my mom died. It's when I started smoking pot, though. Started cause it helped the pain and cause I finally didn't have to worry about drug tests, I wasn't in any sports for once. But I didn't want to be one of those people that got hooked on oxy, did some of that, but I found I could just sell it and buy weed for cheaper since the doctors gave me a prescription for oxy… I guess the partying got a little worse."

Lafayette found his thumbnails very interesting and Hercules got back to pinning John's suit on a dress form. I rubbed the back of John's neck.

"You never… Christ, querido."

"It was really bad," Lafayette mumbled, "I had to make sure he was safe."

"But then you met me!" Hercules brought some levity to the conversation.

"Indeed, I did. Following John to this city was the most amazing decision I could have made."

John smiled at this, finally done tearing through his cheek with his teeth.

"Alright, well, let me take my amazing decision home, thanks for everything, guys." I got off the couch and retrieved my coat. John followed suit.

I wrapped an arm around John's waist as we walked to the train.

"I didn't know all that stuff, and you still run and I just assumed…"

"I just don't like to talk about it. Rather focus on all the good stuff."

I know all about not wanting to talk.

"I'm sorry I'm such an asshole." I looked down at his knee.

"Babe, don't be all 'you' about this. It's okay. My shitty knee is nowhere near as bad as everything as you've been through."

"Not a contest." I bit my lip. You self centered prick, other people have it rough, too, never think about that though, do you?

"I'm okay, Alex. Really. Everything happens for a reason. Everything led up to me finding you."

I nodded, not wanting that kind of attention, not wanting to be the one taken care of, "Eliza gave me the adoption application, said we can get the ball rolling before we're married. Maybe get our baby by fall."

John's eyes lit up, "really?"

I nodded and tucked hair behind his ear, caressing his smooth cheek.

"I started my half of the paperwork already… I need to quit smoking."

He quirked an eyebrow, "...you… quit smoking?"

"I'm sure the social worker would prefer it, and, plus, I know it's bad for me, got a reason to stick around for a long time now… hopefully a couple reasons."

"Damn, you are taking this serious. Grad school, working full time, and going to have a baby? Helluva time to quit."

"I know, but it's right. We should also figure out what to do about my study."

"What do you mean?"

"Gotta get it ready for the baby."

"Oh… but, where will you work?"

"At the dining table, I guess."

"We don't need a dining table. Let's get rid of that and set up the dining room for you. You need work space. Plus, they'll like how often you work from home. Did I tell you Laf has already agreed to watch the baby?"

"What, really?"

"Yeah, you know he barely works. The embassy keeps him on retainer for foreign affairs, gives him that fat stipend, guy only works like 4 months a year."

"Such a cushy job." I agreed.

We made it home and I holed up in my study, opened my pack of cigarettes and stared at the remaining eight.

"Alright, this is it." I held the cigarette reverently and put it between my lips, lit it slowly and savored the smoke. I closed my eyes against the sensation.

Cigarettes when I'm happy.

Cigarettes when I'm sad.

Cigarettes when I'm angry.

Cigarettes when I'm nervous.

Cigarettes after sex.

I smoked it to the filter and stared at the pack. My fingers twitched and I started on homework. I went to bed without a last cigarette.

In the morning, I allowed myself one. Six more, savoring it on the walk to the train.

I flicked the butt to the ground and made it through class, no cigarette between class and work. I made it back to our apartment, still only one cigarette smoked for the day.

I poured a bowl of cereal and shut the door to my office a little too hard, eating my cereal like I was angry with it. I tried to work, knees bouncing. Fuck. I caved and lit a smoke, leaning back in my chair to enjoy it. It balmed my irritation.

Five more.

John got home and suggested we go out and start looking at baby furniture. That made it feel real. I smoked another cigarette on the walk to the train. More nervous about looking at cribs than I thought I'd be.

Four more.

We ordered furniture and had it set to be delivered just after the wedding, give us time to move my study, and because John decided we needed to steam the carpets, though he worked to squelch my moodiness by assuring me he wasn't mad about me smoking inside. Talking about smoking made me want to.

I smoked one more cigarette before bed.

Three more.

By the end of the next day I was out. The pack empty.

I was trying to work, sitting in my study, books boxed up around me, pounding headache, drumming my fingers on the desk. I heard John get in and rolled my eyes, shutting my eyes against my headache, hand not tapping the desk rose to pinch the bridge of my nose. He opened the door to my study.

"Hey, babe. You have a good day?" He kissed my head and squeezed me around the shoulders.

"Fine." My tone was clipped. You're such an asshole, Hamilton, he hasn't done anything wrong.

"You okay, sweetheart?"

"Fuck. Yes, I'm fine. Christ." It's still not his fault.

"O-okay. Sorry… something happen at work? Or in class?"

"For fuck's sakes, how many times, in how many ways can I tell you I'm fine, John? Had a fine day. Everything is fine. Fine and fucking dandy."

"Alright… well, I'm gonna go make you dinner. See if that puts you in a better mood. Anything in particular sound good?"

"Jesus, whatever. I'm just really fucking hungry."

"Okay, give me like an hour."

He shut the door quietly behind him and I hung my head, cradling it with my hands. Dumb fuck. He just loves you, you stupid prick. He loves you and you're an asshole. Don't be a garbage human.

I kicked my desk, feeling stupid when I'd done it. I managed to get through a little bit of work before he poked his head in, looking timid. You dumb fuck, Hamilton.

"Dinner's ready if you want it."

"Thank you, querido," I sighed and bit my lip, drawing blood for the third time today, "come here." I held out my arms.

John rushed to me, letting me encircle him, he nuzzled down into my shoulder.

"I didn't mean to make you mad."

"No, you didn't… it's just, quitting is a lot harder than I thought it would be. I'm sorry, I love you."

"I'm proud of you for quitting. I know it's really hard."

"It is… really hard, but you deserve a good man, not some irritable asshole… but I guess you knew what you were getting into, I've always been an irritable asshole."

"You are a good man, Alex. This is hard."

I nodded against him, "really hard. I've spent over a fourth of my life smoking."

He stroked his hands down my back, settling on my ass, "that's a long time. I'm so proud of you."

I laced my fingers behind his neck and leaned into his chest, "don't be proud yet. Still plenty of time to fuck this up."

"But you're trying."

"I'm trying."

"Now, come on, let's go eat." He kissed my forehead.

He made outstanding food for dinner, just spaghetti, so simple, but so incredible, it tasted better than any food I'd ever had in my life.

I moaned involuntarily around the fork, "this is the best food you've ever made, John."

"It's just jarred crap and noodles with cheese." He shrugged.

"But it's delicious. It's so good."

"You're getting your tastebuds back." He giggled.

I stared at him, wiping sauce off my chin, where it had settled into my goatee.

He cocked his head, "what? I research things sometimes! You don't have exclusive researching privileges. You start getting your taste and smell back… and you're going to be bitchy and difficult to be around for a week. But then you'll have healthy lungs, and live forever."

I grinned at him in spite of myself, "look at you… caring about me."

"I care a lot about you, dummy."

"I know. I just still don't know why."

"Hmm… well, I got a few minutes to go over it… again. Your booty is a definite plus, you have pretty eyes, you're smart, funny when you want to be, you're good in the sack. You like my family. You like my friends. You want to start a family with me…" I looked at the ground, "...you get embarrassed when I'm sweet to you."

I twirled my noodles, "I'm not embarrassed."

"Okay, you're not embarrassed." He leaned over and kissed my cheek.

"I just… I love you."

"I love you too, even when you're crabby with me."