I promise I'm not dead! We should be back to weekly updates again, if life allows. This chapter is a bit of a jumble, but I wanted to post something to get back on track, and I've played around with it so much I cant see straight anymore. Apologies in advance!

And CentauRita, your turkey floatation devices were of much help ;)

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The flight had been delayed several hours, hampered by British weather. Of course, if there was a perfect time for a bad storm, it was when my boyfriend was on another continent and absolutely miserable. He'd sent me a very panicky email from the other airport, frantic that he might not be able to get home today. I'd checked the flights before I left home though, and his had eventually taken off. He was due to land any minute now, and my heart was drumming away in my chest with anticipation. As cheesy as it was, I'd written out his name in big letters, holding the sign as I waited on the other side of the arrival gate.

He threw his arms around me, burying his face in my shoulder and managing to drop his phone and keys on the ground in the process. It had scared the shit out of me; I hadn't seen him approach and I laughed as he knocked me back a few feet.

"Carlisle." I hugged him automatically, breathing a deep sigh of relief to finally have him back. "God, I missed you so much." I pulled him closer, squeezing him and shifting him against me. It was only after I ran my hand down his back that I realised I could feel every vertebra along his spine, and his ribs were far more defined than they should be. It wasn't a battle for now, though; he would put on weight again as things got better. I leaned down to bring our lips together, ready to kiss every inch of him just to prove that he was really here.

"Love you," he mumbled into me, tangling his fingers in my shirt to hold me closer. The reunion was happy on my behalf, but Carlisle was very subdued – understandably. He leaned his forehead against my shoulder, tightly squeezing the fabric as his breaths came in short, sharp gasps; not quite crying, but very close.

Rubbing his shoulder, I slid my hand up to gently cup the side of his face. My thumb came away wet with tears as it brushed across his cheek. "Ready to go home?" I murmured. The last thing we needed was for him to have a panic attack in the middle of the airport.

He nodded, and it was clear that he was utterly exhausted. It took him a few attempts to get his seatbelt done up in the car, and I suspected that he was a little dizzy after being on the plane for so long. It was so painful to watch that I reached over and did it up for him. 'Home and safe' was the ultimate objective now.

I put my hand on his leg, gently squeezing his thigh and only just repressing a frown at how cold he was. "Do you want to get something to eat on the way home, or-" The look on his face cut me off; he looked like he wanted to vomit at the mere mention of food. "Just want to go to bed, hmm?" I guessed.

"Yeah," he admitted, wrapping his fingers around mine. "It's been kinda a long day."

Understatement of the year. "How was your flight?"

"Fine, once we were in the air," he sighed, trying to force a laugh. It didn't work, and he rubbed his face with his free hand, repressing a frustrated groan.

Quickly leaning over to kiss his cheek, I started the car. "You're here now; that's the main thing. Alistair is going to want to talk to you too; he's been worried." He was immediately a little anxious at the mention of his best friend, and I realised that dealing with Alistair was probably the last thing he wanted after having to endure the last twenty-four hours. "I'll tell him you're okay, and he can wait until tomorrow," I assured him, back-peddling.

"So, are you two friends, now?" he asked, almost managing a smile.

"Maybe not after I tell him not to come over today," I chuckled, running my thumb over his fingers.

"If he's going to be upset, then today-" Again, it had started him off panicking.

"He'll be fine, Carlisle, he just wants to know you're okay. He'll understand."

As we drove, my boyfriend became quieter and quieter. The continuous rocking of the car was making sleeping hard to resist, and he was battling to remain conscious. It was better than getting motion sick, at least. "You can go to sleep, it's okay. I'll wake you up when we get home?" There was no way he was going to be able to stay awake the long journey anyway, so there was no point in making him try and force it.

He offered me an apologetic smile, leaning against the window and his hand, and was gone within seconds.

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Once we got back to our apartment, waking him up seemed cruel. The novelty of having him back wasn't overshadowing everything anymore, and I was acutely aware of how unwell he looked. Bed would be better for him, though; it had to happen.

"Carlisle…we're home," I murmured, rubbing his shoulder until he glanced up at me. He fumbled with his seatbelt and then with the car door, eventually coming free and making it to my side. While I had the key in the lock, he was leaning against me, his arms loosely wrapped around my waist. Sleeping in the car had disorientated him, and he was quite off-balanced as we climbed the stairs.

It was only lunch time, but I couldn't stomach the thought of being apart from him and followed him to bed. Clumsily getting changed, Carlisle crawled into the blankets beside me and curled up against my side. The blankets seemed warmer with him in them, and the bed was suddenly more comfortable. I hugged him, tracing circles against his back as he started to relax again. His fingers tightened around my shirt as he leaned his head against my chest, and I promised to stay until he woke up again.

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The change in time zone had obliterated his sleeping pattern, and at three AM he was up again and unable to settle. I had to work in the morning, and really didn't want to sit up all night, but I was scared to leave him by himself; he seemed too fragile and I was waiting for him to crash.

My eyelids were heavy and I fought to keep my eyes open. It didn't help that my boyfriend was so withdrawn; he couldn't hold a conversation. "Do you want dinner, Carlisle?" Eating was a good distraction to keep me awake, and I sorted through the left overs in the fridge to find something to satisfy the cravings. Feeding him was definitely appealing too. "I can heat something up for you?"

"No, thanks…I'm okay, Garrett. You can go back to bed; you still have to get up in the morning…" he mumbled, picking at the table.

Sighing, I shut the fridge. I badly wanted to go to sleep again, and didn't really have it in me to fight him. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm alright…it's just that it would be midday in London and I'm used to that time, and…" There was underlying anxiety in his voice which I couldn't quite pin down.

I couldn't resist the pull of bed. I kissed him gently, squeezing his shoulder in reassurance. "Do you want me to wake you up before I leave tomorrow?"

His arms found their way around my waist as he nodded. "Yes, please; I'm not ready to let you go again without saying goodbye."

"Don't stay up all night," I murmured, tilting his chin up with my thumb to force him to look at me.

His eyes met mine, and he frowned a little. "Goodnight, Garrett."

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There wasn't any need for me to wake Carlisle up the next morning; he'd never managed to fall asleep again. It had really taken it's toll, too; he was so jittery he could barely function. Sitting on the edge of the bed with his arms wrapped around his legs, he watched me get ready for work with wide eyes.

"I'll see you tonight," I murmured, kissing the top of his head. The gesture was somewhat mothering, but I couldn't help wanting to comfort him.

He automatically wrapped his arms around my waist, burying his face in my shirt as he started to hyperventilate. His hold on me tightened, and my hand landing on his back as I slid my fingers up to rub his neck. "…n-no…Garrett, please…"

I wasn't quite sure what bit he was protesting to, but I slowly put my bag back down after seeing the expression on his face. Touching him the way I was, I realised I was tracing the far too prominent outline of his spine, and it made me feel a little sick. "Come to the kitchen, I'll make you breakfast, then." I took my hands off him just so I wouldn't feel it anymore.

"…but…" He winced as our eyes met, quickly looking down at his lap again and nibbling his lip. The fear in his voice made me turn to face him again, and he was bordering on tears, struggling to breathe and shaking a little. "You have to go…"

"I'll stay home with you today, Carlisle," I assured him, sighing as I sat next to him on the bed. I was craving the contact as much as he was, and spending the day with him wasn't at all unappealing. It would save my anxiety too; I would only worry about him if I went, and I certainly wouldn't be able to concentrate. "Let's go get something to eat."

Again, he shook his head. In an attempt to force himself to calm down, he uncurled himself, hugging me instead. I gave his thigh a gentle squeeze, pulling his legs over my lap so I could get him closer. The security of his arms around me was almost enough to put me at ease about the whole situation. Almost.

My phone hummed in my pocket, and Carlisle froze at the vibration. I knew immediately who it was. "Alistair," I told him softly. I'd told him that he was tired after we'd gotten home last night, and he had accepted it without complaint, but he was as worried as I was and couldn't keep it to himself for long. "He's been asking about you every day, and-"

"I don't want to see him…" he interrupted suddenly. Something about the mention of his best friend had made him squirm and he was suddenly uncomfortable in my arms.

"He wants to see you," I chuckled, briefly bringing our lips again.

He cringed back. "I can't, Garrett."

"He misses you," I murmured as my smile faded. Purposefully holding my phone where my boyfriend couldn't see the screen, I quickly flicked Alistair a reply. Telling him that Carlisle was tired wasn't a lie, but I knew it wasn't the whole truth either.

"…I miss him too, but I can't see him yet…" The conversation was obviously winding him up, and he was starting to push away from me. Separation wasn't something I could cope with yet, and I wanted to calm him before he lost his shit and ripped free.

"That's alright, we can have him over another day," I told him slowly, tightening my hold on him. My fingers slipped under his t-shirt, and I traced circles against the small of his back. The small touch encouraged him to burying his face in my neck, and I sighed in relief.

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Carlisle wasn't really capable of doing anything other than staring at the TV all day, but I wasn't convinced that he was actually watching the movie that was playing. It had taken a while to talk him into bed, and for the first hour he'd spent lying next to me, he had been unbearably tense.

Now though, he was sleepy and semi-relaxed, lying with his head on my chest as he cuddled into my side. Exhaustion was quickly catching up to him, and sleep was hard to resist with me rubbing his back. I ran my fingers through his hair to brush it back off his face, leaning down to kiss him. "Please sleep. You'll feel better."

He nodded tiredly, unable to stifle a yawn as I pulled the blankets closer around him. The warmth of his body and the feel of him of him against my side made my eyelids heavy. Combined with the sleeplessness of last night, I was started to fall asleep too.

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I had to work the next day; there was no way out of it. My boyfriend looked like he was going to vomit as I left, but he still hadn't eaten anything. He'd assured me he would be fine, but it really wasn't convincing. I spent the day literally counting the minutes until I was home with him again. At least it was only another few days until work broke off for the Christmas holidays.

I unlocked the front door as quietly as I could, not wanting to wake him up if he had somehow settled, but he pounced on me the minute I had it open. "Hey." Smiling was inevitable, and I rested my chin on the top of his head as he hugged me.

"How was your day?" he asked shakily, trying to maintain normality. When he pulled back from me, he was on the brink of tears again, sinking his teeth into his lip to keep from making any sound.

Frowning, I held my hand against his cheek. "What happened? Are you okay?"

He nodded, wrapping his arms around my neck again as I touched his back to usher him closer. The tension in his shoulders dropped as I squeezed him. "I made dinner…"

Assuming that meant that he was going to eat, I smiled in relief, nudging my way past him to get inside. "Thank you, but are you alright?" I set about setting the table while Carlisle pulled the food out of the oven. His hands were shaking so violent he was having problems keeping the plates steady. "Did you get any rest today?"

His silence told me enough, and his refusal to make eye contact only further confirmed my suspicion.

I put down what I was holding, taking his hands hostage to stop him fussing. "You're jet-lagged, Carlisle; you need to sleep. You're going to make yourself unwell." I could already see it in his face, that he wasn't feeling good.

"I can't…"

"What'd you mean you can't? You look exhausted." Trapping him in my arms, I rubbed his back as he groaned quietly against my shoulder.

"…I am, but whenever I sleep, I have the worst nightmares – you can laugh; I know it's stupid – and it makes me feel sick." Trying to laugh through the tears wasn't helping, and he was quickly falling apart. "I thought coming home would make everything alright, but I feel like shit and I don't know what to do and I keep having panic attacks and I can't eat and-" His speak became too fast and panicked for me to understand and I enclosed him in my arms.

I sighed, resting my cheek on the top of his head. This wasn't what I had expected at all; it didn't make sense to me that he was still miserable. "It's over now, Carlisle," I reasoned. "You're okay again."

He shoved back without warning, pushing me away. "No, I'm not! If it was over, it wouldn't hurt this much!"

I tried to keep clam; realistically, I should have expected him to be emotionally volatile. It didn't stop it coming as a shock though. "Calm down. You need to have something to eat, and then you need to go to bed."

"Don't talk to me like I'm a fucking child," he spat back.

"I'm just telling you the truth." I'd never been good in fights, and I'd always had problems keeping my voice low once someone was yelling at me. Now, I was fighting every instinct I had so that I didn't shout at my boyfriend. It was difficult though, and I was struggling. "Don't yell at me."

"Enjoy your food," he grumbled, storming away from me and disappearing into the bedroom.

I forced myself to sit down; if I followed him, we would fight, and neither of us could handle that. God help him if he chose to be this difficult over Christmas. I wasn't sure what I was going to do with him yet. Dinner tasted bitter while he was away, and I tried not to be mad at him.

Alistair decided it was a good time to probe me about him again, and I swallowed my temper. "Call Alistair. He wants to speak to you," I shouted down the hallway, shoving a spoonful of pasta between my lips a second later.

"No," was his sharp response.

"Carlisle, for god's sake," I grumbled at my plate. "Stop sulking; you need to eat something."

He appeared again, obviously angry at me. "I don't want it-"

"You haven't eaten since you got home-"

"And I'll throw it up if I do."

"Either sit down and eat with me, or go to bed. I don't want to fight with you."

"Then stop talking to me like I'm a little kid!"

I slammed my fork down against my plate. "Stop acting like one!" A tense silence overcame us, but I was still wound up and frustration was bubbling underneath my calm exterior. "This wasn't easy for me either, you know. You've been gone for a month."

"I'm sorry my father died, Garrett," he snapped at me, a mocking apology. "I'm sorry I tried to help my family."

"Carlisle, you told me yourself that you ran away from them. You should be happy that that man is dead. Jesus."

He rolled his eyes at me, and he couldn't resist baiting me. "Of course you don't understand; your family is perfect."

"Every family has it's problems. I just don't understand why you want to be part of a family that didn't want you; it doesn't make sense to me. Mum said that maybe counselling might help you; perhaps she's right-"

"You told your mother?! Garrett!" Straight away, he was hyperventilating, suddenly biting back violent sobs. "B-but she liked me, a-and it's Christmas time…"

My heart sank, and I suddenly didn't feel like eating anymore either. Making him cry was the last thing I wanted. Any anger I'd felt dissolved instantly. "She still loves you, it's alright. I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't have told her; I was stressed, and it was an accident. I'm sorry." Pushing my luck, I crossed over to him, hugging him tightly. "I'm really sorry."

"I-I'm sorry for yelling at you, I don't want to fight…" he mumbled, allowing the contact. "I'm just really…"

"Overwhelmed?" I kissed him as he nodded timidly, gently running my fingers through his hair to get it off his face and make him look at me. "Sorry I upset you. Would it help if I stayed with you while you slept? I can take my holiday leave early and stay home with you?"

"You're supposed to be spending that time with your family, though…" Still tearful, he was trying his best to calm down again.

"You're the person I love most, Carlisle, if I'm spending it with anyone, it's going to be you," I promised, leaning down to kiss him again. "I'll message my boss tonight, and you can sleep all day tomorrow."

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He slept for the best part of three days, hardly eating and barely functioning enough to move when he was awake. I was more than happy to spend as much time in bed with him as possible; whenever I lay next to him, he would unconsciously shuffle into my side, cuddling closer when I wrapped my arm around him. His continuous need for contact would have driven me insane, had I not wanted it as much as he did.

Alistair spent a lot of time hovering as well, either texting me or breaking into my apartment. He'd been almost as relieved as I had been to have Carlisle back. He was also a lot better at nagging than I was. "You need to sit down and eat a proper meal today," he warned, watching disapprovingly as Carlisle stumbled into the kitchen.

"…don't…" he mumbled, basically falling into my arms as I attempted to steady him. He was still so cold, and I couldn't figure out why I couldn't warm him up. Before I could say anything, Alistair was back at it.

"Hey, you're the one that decided to bloody fast while you were gone. Is the food in London really that terrible?" It was only half teasing, and he couldn't hide his concern. "What do you weigh now? Three pounds?"

"…shut up…don't be a jerk…"

"I'm serious, Carlisle, you look like shit."

"I'm fine, Alistair, just tired." He was vaguely pissed off now, not really having the energy to fight him, but sick of us commenting on it all the time. Crossing his arms defensively, he settled into a seat, not looking at either of us.

"You look like you're about to drop dead, for god's sake; you're lucky I'm not dragging you into A&E this afternoon," he threatened.

Carlisle had had enough of it. "I'll eat tonight, just shut the fuck up about it."

Thankfully, Alistair had the good sense to keep his mouth closed, because the last thing either of them needed now was to argue. We were all running on raw nerves, and Carlisle certainly didn't have the stamina to keep any kind of emotional stability at the moment. Neither did Alistair, apparently. He groaned and leaned his head back against the wall, blowing out a frustrated breath, watching my boyfriend across the room.

Standing behind him, I rubbed the tops of Carlisle's arms to try and soothe him again. "We're just worried," I reminded him, leaning down to kiss his cheek before coming around to sit next to him.

He turned to face me, hugging me tightly and burying his face in my shoulder. "I know…I'm sorry."

"You're okay." Rubbing his back, I wasn't sure whether he was in tears or not. I rested my cheek on top of his head, trying to calm him anyway. "We love you."

"…Christmas?" he asked anxiously.

"We'll deal with it when it happens." Two days.