Always And Forever

Story 10: The New Normal


Sleep.

The Hobblepots and Feys provided Graham a much-needed smile during the tired and suspenseful last months of Vee's pregnancy when joking that he was going to miss actual sleep.

He hadn't smiled since Alexander was taken.

But the jokes still crossed his mind when he sat against the door daring a certain, unsatisfied someone to return. He would either live or die while Vee escaped with Rosella, though delaying entry as a corpse sounded more effective. Ultimately, exhaustion won. He'd wake up not knowing how he was moved to bed, but Vee would greet him with a kiss and then give him Rosella to do the same as if he deserved to breathe same air as either of them.

Sleep was a state that took away pain, mental and physical. Some nights it brought no images, and others had Graham seeing his last sight of Alexander before repeating his kidnapping in full mentally.


Pain.

Some days it was his head. It would start blunt and sudden in the back, then circle the sides without mercy. Graham had taken more than a few stumbles in his life; he'd struck his head against some cave walls to be sure. This wasn't like that. This was an invisible hand pressing to prove its might.

Some days, it was his shoulders and neck. He couldn't sit or lie down for relief, every minor turn of his head only increasing the aches. He'd imagine the feeling like a hammer bashing a nail. Except there were theoretical nails set up all along those areas slowly moving deeper into flesh.

Some days it was his legs. It started at the top, radiating to his toes. Then it didn't matter what position his body was in, didn't matter because even doing nothing was hell. He'd never been trapped under rubble but imagined that slow crushing was to be expected. When it struck his legs, he knew the day was going to be wasted.

Some days it was everything at once, what he truly deserved.

What kind of ruler would he be if he let pain stop him from getting work done? So, Graham kept pushing himself. Paperwork and public appearances went nowhere, but he wouldn't believe it.

"Are you okay?"

Vee stepped into the brightest spot of their location, hand instinctively grasping his shoulder. She wouldn't rush him for a reply because she could feel his body bracing. Graham always stayed silent then, knowing he'd trained himself to lie at that question.

"Well, you're getting through the day." Vee finally spoke again, moving that hand to brush his cheek. "Keep going."

There were reasons he kept going, but his mind wouldn't let them be known.


Sickness.

The only thing that Graham could keep down were sweet. Sugar gave false hope he could take on the world, then tire him out before he could put himself into danger with this useless body. The kitchen staff had to question the repetitive orders but got paid so all was well for them.

It had to be sweets only. Anything else... Well, Graham learned his lesson when he'd attempt a more varied meal and manage to consume so little before the awareness of something against his throat intensified. He'd never thought of it, but even liquids were making contact and suddenly he questioned how he wasn't choking then... Was his throat closing in? It couldn't close in before he swallowed. But it was going to. He was going to die while an unaware Vee trying to convince Rosella to unseal her mouth for mashed vegetables.

Death missed him. That time. Still, he barely recalled what happened once he collapsed from his chair and bolted outside. There was no good place to vomit, but random bushes would have to do. In the moment his stomach churned, and he swore this needed to happen. He stayed long enough for his throat to burn raw from multiple attempts. Nothing happened. He shuddered and moved away, running knuckles against his mouth and though he felt like he was actually dying he was "fine".

He heard a branch snap, but the approaching Vee wasn't trying to be stealthy as she crouched next to him and stared. She probably didn't know what to say after that dramatic exit, and Graham couldn't speak for the constrictions from throat to stomach. If neither knew what to do, that was terrible.

Well, it should have been terrible. Vee carefully moved closer and opened her arms, which Graham didn't hesitate to fall into. His cheeks had already been on fire from the pressure, and shame stocked it. Vee didn't seem to think anything negative, in contrast, just rubbed his back until he could stand again.


Sleep.

The sun bathed the whole room in light.

Vee was gone, signaled by the birds in the window chirping farther away.

Guards patrolled, determination higher than ever.

Rosella's babbling and laughter echoed.

Graham didn't leave the bed until sunset, awake long enough to wonder if anyone missed him and could he believe why.


Pain.

Graham wanted to hike up that behind the castle hill, just to prove he was living and alive. The hill could be his past mistakes that caught up, because the way he saw it now it was like Alexander had been completely removed from the world. Reaching the top, overcoming those mistakes, would be the emptiest accomplishment but if anything, it could distract.

First came the shooting zaps in his legs as he found a suitable pace.

Then came the instant pull in his ankles like it just occurred to his own body what he was making it do. This could not happen, his body tried to warn him.

He tripped over his own feet, nearly tumbled to the beginning every try and was drenched and out of breath by the time he landed on the halfway point.

On at least one occasion, he did make it to the top. He wasn't so out of his mind he believed he'd enter a portal to the lost reality where he threw his arms around Vee from behind as she stroked his hands and pointed out the antics of their twins ripping each other's hair out and stealing toys.

His head still pounded; the force leaked unstoppable tears.


Sickness.

The sweets made him disgusted with his body.

His body made him disgusted with his failing at life.

"Disgust" was a placeholder because Graham didn't want to admit his real emotions. It seemed like life would be easier if he stopped those with a cork, and when he thought like that he fell back into the bushes all over again.


Sleep.

"You can move closer." Vee told him, which was difficult to ignore with her lazily propping her head on the pillow smiling at him with the daylight gleaming off her bare shoulder and chest.

No, not afterlife. More like Graham's carefully personalized Heaven scrap.

Could he be selfish? Even though Vee offered, trailing the back of her hand against his cheek... Was it selfish to stay here in the middle of the day?

When she hovered her lips in front of his, nothing stopped him from kissing her.


Pain.

Vee hummed thoughtfully, warm hands on his bare back. "There is a lot of tension." She said matter of fact.

"Just tension." Graham said to make it reality.

The humming turned disagreeing.

"Do you think I've sprained my back somehow?" Because the pain couldn't just be in his mind.

Also, they needed some excuse for touching.

Vee moved in closer, cheek brushing his as her hand trailed down his arm to form a connection with his. "We can ask a healer for help... Or try my method?"

A pile of clothes on the floor later, and neither Vee nor Graham were sure if the method could still be called a massage. They must have had this connection for an extra two minutes and were all out of options. They stayed together for a nonsensical time, like determinedly burning embers especially when Vee claimed his face was most serene when her fingers traced patterns down his legs. She made that sound like a world-saving discovery.


Sickness.

"Graham you can either sip that broth yourself, or I'll feed you just like Rosella. I'm sorry I have to be blunt, but you're too much alike... Too stubborn." Vee tried to say firmly, though was exhausted by the end. She absolutely did not contribute to stubbornness in this family.

It's not like Graham's stomach twisted at the sight of broth, not like the other foods.

It was what it represented. Was he symbolism hunting in his broth? Yes.

When Graham twirled the spoon in the nearly green broth for another six rounds he heard Vee's chair move.

"I'm almost mentally prepared!" Graham attempted to reassure her, surprise by his volume mirroring Vee's for a moment.

And still, Vee gracefully left her seat and made a slow approach. She didn't dip another spoon in like he thought, rather, she covered his trembling hand with hers and stared in his eyes tragically.

"The days haven't been kind to me, either. But it's comforting having you and Rosella around." She said so quietly, barely audible against the sloshing broth. "Ideally, we should support each other more than ever... But I know force-feeding you a liquid diet won't work, not really..."

"Vee-"

Her eyes were wide and not daring to blink anymore. And with her eyebrows furrowing, she managed to look scared and frustrated depending on the angle. "Tell me- Show me- I want to be able to help you. But I just don't know what I can do, or if it's entirely out of my control."

The spoon fell in the broth, which was probably freezing by now. Graham pushed it aside anyhow, giving himself space to position himself to be face to face properly and rest his forehead against hers.

That was his answer.

He could feel Vee's skin wrinkling in concentration. What could that gesture mean, she might have pondered. And Graham knew he'd tell her sometime, but with their faces so close he brushed his lips to hers while he had the chance and was glad for Vee instantly understanding and reaching a hand behind the back of his once-aching head and only left the faint pricks of nails.

It was only a short while later when Graham looked between her and the nasty broth and could it have been the quick bliss overtaking him, but he managed a weak quirk of his lips hoping to charm her.

"Maybe that's a way to eat the broth?" At that point, why not?

Vee just chuckled, before transferring the spoon to his hand anyhow.


Sleep. Pain. Sickness.

Every day was a predetermined struggle, filled with effort to get better or at least cope.

Calendar pages fluttered away because someone forgot to shut the window, Daventry carried on as normal with Queen Valanice juggling taking care of kingdom and family at once. When Graham thought of it like that, it was too easy to think he ruined her life, forget his own. Struggling was nothing new for him.

There was no rest asleep or awake.

Pain would return as soon as the remedies wore off.

Sickness could be controlled with nasty broths. Not that nighttime kitchen security kept a desperate man from his sweets.

Graham wasn't well. He didn't think he could ever be, but one day he noticed Vee determinedly spellchecking some paperwork. Quiet as lightning, he joined her and took half of the to be done pile and equipped a pen like a weapon. Not a word was said even when she finally looked up.

Graham sensed her gaze on him but kept his own on plans for a new path to- An arm moved around his back, lightly squeezing as a chair obnoxiously creaked and then he'd been kissed on the cheek.

If this was going to be the new normal, might as well find breaks where available.