Cups of comfort

An early evening, almost three days after Ellie had left in anger, Brutus' frustration and worry finally drove him out of the house. An hour later he found himself outside the residence of the Edgecombs. Janice waved at him from the kitchen window, smiling.

"Hi, Brutal, where's Ellie?" she asked, when she came out into the hallway to greet him, drying her wet hands in her apron.

Brutus mouth went dry.

"She's... she's visiting her parents."

"Oh? How is she?"

"Fine."

Paul appeared behind her, hurling an used dishtowel over one shoulder. He took in Brutus' uncharacteristic troubled appearance and frowned.

"You a'right there, Brutal?"

"Uhm..." He didn't know what to say.

"You want some coffee?" Janice asked him gently.

He nodded. Paul reached out an arm for him, almost as if he was a helpless child, who didn't know what to do next, and led him out into the kitchen.

"So what's the matter?" his former boss, now current colleague at the Boy's Correctional, asked him, once they had sat down at the kitchen table.

"We had a fight a couple of days ago, Ellie and I."

"Uh-oh, trouble in paradise?" Paul said, smirking.

"I... I think she's left me," Brutus said and felt numb.

"What?"

"We went through the roof, the both of us and then she left, saying she needed time to think..."

"Oh, of course she hasn't left you, Brutal," Janice said in a motherly voice and put his coffee cup down in front of him. "She's been through hell this last weeks, you both have. She just need some air, that's all. It'll be fine, trust me."

"I haven't heard a word from her in two days, Jan."

"Have you tried contacting her?" Janice said, sitting down next to Paul, looking at Brutus.

"Well... no," Brutus admitted.

Janice raised her brows. "You haven't called her?"

"She said she needed time to think, so I thought... I didn't wanted to bother her."

Janice rolled her eyes at him and sighed.

"Men!" she muttered. "Always expecting us to do all of the work."

"Should I call her, then?" Brutus asked, confused.

"You should go after her. Drive to her parents place, tell her how much you miss her and love her. That's what she's waiting for."

"But she said..." Brutus began, looking like one big question mark. He glared at Paul, who just shrugged from behind his cup.

"Don't look at me, I haven't completely cracked the code of women mystery yet, either."

"Go after her," Janice repeated, firmly, but gently. "Give it two days more, to make sure the storm has settled, and then you go and talked to her. By that time she'll probably be more than ready to put the fight behind her. Okay?"

"Right."

"What were you fighting about, exactly?" Paul asked him.

"Whether or not she should return to the hospital," Brutus responded. "I hate the idea of her going back to the place where she was nearly killed. She might not be so lucky the next time something like that happens to her."

"Who says it will happen again?" Janice said.

"We don't know that," Brutus said gravely. "And she won't listen to reason no matter what I say to her. She won't even consider it. She's too stubborn for her own good."

Paul chuckled. Brutus turned his head towards him, frowning.

"Do I have to remind you," Paul said, a slight smirk crossing his face, "that it was her stubbornness and her spunk that made her a part of your life in the first place? If she had listened to me or her co-workers, instead of herself, she would never have walked into E-block and you would never have met her."

Brutus said nothing. He hadn't actually considered that. Her indomitable gumption was one of the things he loved most about her.

"Right?" Paul pushed him.

"Yeah, I guess so," Brutus mumbled reluctantly.

Paul flipped him on his arm.

"You didn't marry a push-over – you married her. Don't try and change her, nothing good will ever come out of it. Trust me, I've tried. You just have to live with her, the way she is."

Janice sent him a feigned warning glance. Paul smiled at her. Janice shook her head, reached out and put her hand on Brutus' that was clasped around his cup.

"And stop worrying about what might happen," she said softly. "You always learn from your mistakes. Ellie's a bright girl, she won't let this happen again, let alone the hospital. They've gotten quite the scare, I promise you."

She patted his hand and got up from the table to take care of the rest of the dishwashing.

"She's right, you know," Paul said. "Remember what happened with... Dean and Wharton." The short pause before Deans name made Brutus heart arched. "Nothing like that ever happened again at E-block. We learned from it and that's what matters."

They sat in silence for a while, looking down in their cups.

"I miss him," Brutus said.

Paul sighed. "Me too."

"And I miss her. Insanely much."

"Well, there's only one of those voids you can do something about, so you better go and do it, while you still can."

oOo

"So, what did the doctor say exactly?" mrs. Brent asked, when she came out on the porch with the afternoon tea. Her daughter has just returned from the city and her doctors appointment, looking thoughtful and vexed.

"Not much," Ellie said, absently stroking the fur of her mother's cat, Agatha, who had curled up in her lap. "He took some tests. But he can't say for sure what's wrong, until he gets the results back."

"Didn't he have a presumption of what's wrong?"

"Only appalling ones."

"Nausea after such a big operation isn't a good sign, is it?" Ellie's mother said worryingly.

"No, but I feel better now, I really do," Ellie said. "It might not even have something to do with the operation. The doctor said it could be stress. He strongly encouraged me to take three more weeks off, before returning to work."

She hated upsetting her mother. She should never have told about her about how she had felt nauseated and tired the last couple of days. It was probably just nerves. And her fight with Brutus hadn't exactly made it any better. She just needed to relax and talk things through with him and it would go away, she was sure of it.

"You should talk to him," her mother said softly, as if she had read her mind.

"I know – and I will. We just need some time apart to calm down. I don't want it to end in another huge, pointless argument."

"You should call him. He's probably worried sick about you."

"Mom, could we please talk about something else?"

Mrs. Brent sighed and poured herself a cup of tea. Ellie leaned back on the bench, eating her biscuits and drinking her tea in silence, her stomach heavy with guilt. Her parent's home had always felt like safe harbour, but now it made her feel like a coward, hiding from the problems instead of facing them.

"I just think that you are treating him very unfairly," her mother finally hummed. "He hasn't done anything wrong. He just loves you."

"I'm not his to own," Ellie responded bluntly. "He can't just expect me to leave my job, because he says so."

"He's not trying to control you or upset you, darling, he's just worried about you. It's the men's job to worry about us, so let him at least have that."

"I just... I hate it, when people think they know what's best for me," Ellie said defensively.

"There is a huge different between control and carrying," mrs. Brent said softly. "If he asks you to quit your job, it's because he thinks it's the only way he can keep you out of harm."

"But I don't want to quit, just to make him happy," Ellie said, quite aware that she sounded like a sulking child. Her mother raised her brows at her.

"You really think you're the first woman to make a sacrifice for her husband?" she asked. "I hated this country the first year I was here, but now I wouldn't dream of going back. Your father belongs here and seeing him happy is far enough for me. Your Brutus isn't even asking that much of you. You should consider it a golden opportunity, instead of a throw-back. Don't you want to increase your knowledge within the nursing profession? I imagine you can learn so much in E.R, isn't that right?"

Ellie made a neutral sound down her cup. Her mother smiled.

The veranda door opened and Mr. Brent stuck his head out, asking about dinner. Ellie watched her parents. She couldn't remember them ever having a fight that had ended in one of them leaving the house. She slumped further down in her seat. Why had she even done that?

"You haven't told dad about any of this, have you?" she asked quietly, once her father had left.

"Of course not," mrs. Brent responded matter-of-factly. "He would have driven straight off to execute your poor husband."

"He really would, wouldn't he?" Ellie said, looking slightly horrified by the thought.

Her mother laughed. "Speaking of which: Do you remember what your father told Brutus, when he asked for your hand?"

Ellie cringed by the memory. "Oh, God, yes."

"That if he ever hurt you in any way, he would show up on his doorstep with a dull axe and chop off his..."

"Yes, thank you! How could I ever forget that."

Her mother chuckled. "He took it well though, your Brutus."

Ellie smiled faintly. "He thought it was hilarious. He reminds me now and then, just for the laugh."

"He's a good man," her mother said softly. "He has a good heart."

Ellie nodded, feeling as shitty as ever. She wished he was there with her, sitting next to her on the bench, with his arm around her waist. She wished she could just put her head down on his shoulder and make the last two weeks go away.