Erik never told Gaia what he feared ailed her, not even when she was in ill health for nearly a month after her father's death. The girl was slim to begin with, but wasted away to almost nothing in the course of only a few weeks. She hardly ate for lack of appetite and pain when she swallowed. For almost a week all she could do was drink a potent broth of chicken and vegetables Erik made in an attempt to get something, anything into her stomach.

Gaia could tell something was wrong with her husband in the weeks she was ill, and every possibility terrified her. What if he was tired of getting sick so often? This was the worst of four times just in the year they had been married! Gaia could never remember being this ill, though she had been told once by her father they had thought she was going to die when she was only a toddler. Ever since those early years she had been blessed with good health though, until this past year. What if Erik decided he couldn't live with her if she was going to be so troublesome?

That couldn't be it, she told herself firmly. He was such an angel to her while she was ill. He made her bitter teas which eased her cough and allowed her to sleep, and sweet teas to nourish her. For a month he cooked and cleaned the house, forcing her to stay in bed and sleep as long as she could. When she ventured out of bed he banished her to the sofa to rest as soon as she felt remotely weak. Outwardly, it seemed she was the only thing on his mind, his entire world. But Gaia knew him well enough to know something was going on in his head that wasn't being reflected in his actions.

After what felt like ages, Gaia finally began to recover physically, though her concern about what her husband was hiding from her didn't help her spirit improve. When she was well enough for Erik to return to work on their home, there was a period of a week where they hardly spoke at all. Erik left just before dawn to the house on the vineyard, and returned just after sunset to a quiet dinner and a quiet wife. Instead of sitting up late and talking with her he sat in the living room and read, concerned by her quiet but too uneasy to pry.

One night, Erik slipped into their room nearly an hour after Gaia had gone to bed. He watched curiously as she turned rolled over to face the outside of the bed rather than where her husband normally slept. Her movement was too hasty to have been made in sleep. "What are you doing up?" He asked quietly, taking off his shirt to climb into bed.

"Nothing," she remarked just as quietly, facing away from him still.

"You went to bed almost an hour ago."

"I know," there was a long silence. Erik stared at the ceiling thoughtfully before looking over to his wife as she moved onto her back to watch the ceiling as well. "What is it you do all day, Erik?" Gaia's voice was so uneasy, Erik couldn't help but frown.

"I work on the house. It's mostly finishing touches now. Carving the doors and furniture," Gaia's silence at his answer gave Erik an unwelcome realization. "You think I'm seeing someone else?" He demanded, sitting up in bed angrily.

Gaia shook her head and frowned deeply. "I never said that-"

"You didn't have to," he interrupted. "How could you possibly think I'm seeing someone else, Gaia? Have you ever so much as seen another woman look at me? You are the beauty in our marriage, not I," Erik informed her sharply.

"I don't think you're seeing someone else, Erik," she promised, sitting up. "I would die of a broken heart if I ever thought that. It's just… We never talk anymore. I worry you maybe stay out longer than you have to just so you won't have to be around me. I feel like you're hiding something from me, and I don't like it."

"If my goal were to avoid you, would I have put building our house on hold for the entire duration of your illness? You're the one who went from asking me how my day had gone to hardly saying two words," Erik pointed out.

"You were avoiding me while I was sick," Gaia told him simply. "And you avoid me now when I go to bed… we haven't made love since before Papà died. I'm not worried that you're going to run into the arms of another woman… but I do worry that you'll run. You're such a free spirit Erik, you were on the run when you came here. I worry you're just… not the sort who can settle down," she frowned deeply.

Erik leaned over and kissed his wife deeply. "You were sick for nearly four weeks after your father died, you've only been better a handful of days. Of course we haven't made love."

Gaia kissed him back and rested her forehead on his masked one. "I know, but the opportunity hasn't even presented itself. You come to bed after I'm asleep, and you're leaving as I wake up… How did we go from making love every night to not even kissing goodnight in five weeks? I feel like you're pulling away from me."

It wasn't until Gaia said it that Erik realized that was exactly what was happening. He was pulling away from her. He cared for her while she was ill, but hardly spoke to words to her the entire time. Now that she was well he made no effort to reach out to her when she pulled away herself. He had been quite content to withdraw into his own world out of self preservation.

There was no longer any question about the nature of Gaia's illness. That past month the signs had been all too obvious. A bloody cough, rapid weight loss, severe fatigue, all of it consuming her from the inside out. Consumption had taken her mother, her father, and was now wrapping its bony fingers around Gaia. She had recovered this time, and the times before, but the disease would be back and one day she would not recover. Consumption was a death sentence, leaving Gaia with an expiration date nobody but God could guess. Perhaps she would live another month. Perhaps a year. Maybe a decade or two, or maybe even into old age like her father had managed. There was simply no way to know… and Erik was terrified. He knew as well as anyone that everybody dies. Everybody has an expiration date, but Gaia was different. Gaia's was unnatural, and would undoubtedly be untimely. When she died, it would be the end of everybody who had ever loved him. The realization that he could be a widower before the age of twenty sobered him from the initial bliss of that first year of marriage; happiness doesn't last forever. Somehow it felt better to have control over the destruction of his happiness than to risk allowing the fates to decide, so he had withdrawn from the major source of happiness in his life, at the cost of her happiness.

Erik was quiet for a long time in the sobering reality of it, before realizing that Gaia was watching him intently, almost waiting for a response. Quietly he nodded. "You're right. I have been, even if I haven't meant to. I'm sorry," he offered quietly, now the one staring down at the sheets.

"Tell me what's bothering you, Erik. Is it Papà?" She pried, quietly taking his hands. "I was so selfish when we first found out… I know you loved him too. You must have been hurting."

"No. I was upset, but that's… not it," Erik offered. How does one tell something so innocent, so perfect about something so ugly as death? It felt like blasphemous to even think about. "Gaia… you're dying."

Gaia's heart sank and she pulled her hands away from his with tears in her eyes. "That's an awful thing to say, Erik," she reprimanded, pulling the sheets up around her and lying down, facing away from him once more.

"You had consumption as a child… it's back. I don't know how. I'm not sure anybody would know how. Maybe you caught it from your father, maybe you've had it all along… It's impossible to say," he told her quietly, watching her as a hand drew over her mouth and nose.

"You're lying. You would have gotten sick too, caring for me all this time," Gaia accused desperately, rolling over to face him with tears in her eyes.

"Some people simply don't get it, Gaia. Or maybe I have it and it's just waiting to take me too. But I've seen it before, Gaia, and you certainly have it," both of Gaia's hands moved over her mouth as she let out a sob so broken Erik's heart shattered. Immediately he laid down and pulled her into his arms, kissing her tears as she cried. She clutched at her husband desperately, sobbing into his bare chest with its ugly red scar from the bullet that had nearly taken his life. Erik trailed his kisses from her face to her lips, kissing her deeply while she cried.

Erik didn't realize how desperately he had wanted to cry until his tears were mixing with hers as they made love for the first time in weeks, both of them desperate for comfort and even more desperate never to lose the other. They made love until they were too exhausted to cry anymore, and eventually Gaia fell asleep naked and tangled in her husband's arms. She slept for hours and hours, utterly exhausted from the news and from the exertion of lovemaking. When she woke she was still naked and alone in bed. With a quiet frown she pulled the blankets tighter around her, seeking their comfort in the absence of her husband.

A moment later he walked in the door with a tray of tea, much to Gaia's surprise. She sat up in bed and watched curiously as he set the tray on the foot of the bed, pouring her a cup before taking one for himself and joining her back in the sheets. "What are you doing? I thought you had gone to the house…"

"I'm staying in today," he informed her, taking a long drink of tea.

Gaia held the cup in both hands, absorbing its warmth. "Why? You're so close to being done."

"Because I've been horrible to you the past few days, and you've done nothing to deserve it. Today it's only us. No sickness, no work, nothing," Gaia smiled softly into her cup, taking a drink of the strong morning tea prepared just how she liked. As strange as Erik could be, he was capable of being just as if not even more wonderful.

"I haven't told you how much I love you in a while I have?" She asked with a smile, and Erik shook his head.

"No, but feel free to. I certainly don't tire of hearing it."