As usual, sorry for the typos, I cringe every time I post something and then find them a few weeks later.

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It was weird being with my family without my boyfriend. Although he'd planned on coming with me, he'd bailed last minute after deciding that he still felt too ill to travel the long distance. I didn't blame him at all, but it still felt odd.

"No Carlisle?" Dad asked as he opened the door.

I was secretly smug that the expression on his face was one of disappointment, rather than joy; it seemed he had finally warmed to him. "No, he wasn't feeling the best when I left," I explained, not wanting to tell him too much.

"That's a shame." His lips thinned into a line as he thought about it, and he slowly shook his head. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's getting there."

"Do you think he'll want to come camping with us in the summer? Eleazar and his family are coming down to the lake with me and your mother, where I used to take you boys when you were children; you and Carlisle could come too." He hadn't let me in the front door yet, and his eyes scanned my face, searching for...approval?

"Uh, I don't know where he stands on camping, but I'm sure the gesture would mean a lot to him?" I told him, trying to edge my way into the house. Oddly enough, I felt awkward without him by my side, and I was only just beginning to realise how attached to each other we'd become. As for camping, I was pretty sure that there wasn't a snowball's chance in hell that Carlisle had done it before, considering his upbringing and delayed escape from his hometown.

My mother hugged me as I finally made it into the kitchen. "Lunch is almost ready. Your brother isn't coming anymore, so it'll just be us. Did Carlisle not come with you this morning either?"

Repressing a sigh, I quickly repeated the conversation I'd just had with dad, but her frown only grew.

"He's getting better after his runin last weekend? If he's still isn't well, he needs to go back to the doctor-"

I cut her off half way. "He's okay, mum, just tired, I think. He didn't take any time off work this week after he was sick." He should have taken time off work - you don't spend Saturday in the hospital and Sunday almost comatose, only to begin work again on Monday. Still, he was more worried about upsetting his boss than his own wellbeing, and there wasn't anything I could do about it.

Her lips pressed out into a thin line as she thought about it. She had spoken to him on the phone a few times over the past week, trying to check on him in between his countless apologies to her for ruining her weekend. "He's a worry."

I wasn't fighting with that; he really was.

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I stayed with my parents until just on dusk, but thought I'd better go home to make sure Carlisle ate before he went to bed. That, and I wanted to see him before he fell asleep. Mum packed two meals into my car before I could stop her, insisting that we have them for dinner.

All the lights were on when I finally made it into the kitchen, and the TV was playing quietly in the longue. An attempt had been made to tidy up a bit, and I guiltily realised that I must have left a mess when I'd made breakfast this morning, and that it had bothered Carlisle enough for him to have cleaned it up. Hoping that meant that he wasn't completely shattered, I called out for him, wandering into the longue.

He'd fallen asleep on the couch, awkwardly curled up around his laptop so that he didn't knock it onto the floor. The screen was black, meaning it hadn't been touched for a while, and I carefully closed it and set it on the table. Going to the bedroom, I grabbed the comforter off of our bed, throwing it over him while I set about reheating the food my mother had given us. I was fairly confident that he wouldn't have eaten yet.

"...tried to wait up for you…" he murmured as I shut the microwave door. "...think I fell asleep, sorry…"

I turned to face him as he stood in the kitchen doorway, undeniably pleased to see him. "Hungry?" I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him into me. "Mum has given us dinner."

"She knows we can't look after ourselves," he laughed, kissing me gently and managing to become a little more coherent now.

I laughed at his choice of wording, brushing his hair off his face. "I didn't mean to wake you up, I was going to get you once the food was ready, but I wanted to leave you alone until then."

Shaking his head, he leaned back against the bench to support himself. "How are your parents?"

"Worried about you," I chuckled, quickly stealing another kiss before reaching above his head to get out some plates. "Dad wants us to go camping with them in the summer." As I dished up, I was watching watching the emotions play out across his face from the corner of my eye.

"...camping?" he repeated slowly, clearly not convinced yet. "With your father?"

"Yeah, he wants us to go out to the campground where he used to take Eleazar and I when we were kids. It could be fun?"

Clearly anxious, he looked down, picking at his fingers. "...are you sure he wants me there, Garrett? Maybe he just wants you and Eleazar's family there…"

"Hey." Touching his shoulder, I tried to break that train of thought before he got too far with it. "He specifically asked about you wanting to go; he wants you there, Carlisle. You have to stop thinking like that."

The shaky smile he offering in response didn't instill much faith in me. "...you're sure?"

I nodded, still watching him. "If it's upsetting you that much, we don't have to go."

He took the plate from me when I offered it to him. "...n-no, I want to, I just...don't want to ruin it for anyone else…"

"Sit down and eat your dinner; the only thing you'll be ruining is your food, if you let it go cold." I didn't think I'd ever get over it, his constant feelings of unworthiness, especially seeming as I thought that we were finally getting past it. His sudden emotional backtrack was nothing but confusing. Glancing over at him as I sat down, I lowered my voice. "Carlisle...are you alright? What're you not telling me?"

"It's nothing, Gar, I'm fine."

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Over the next few weeks, I wasn't sure what was going on. Carlisle came home from work late but seemingly happy, and never mentioned that he was upset, but something just seemed 'off'. He was jumpy whenever I touched him, and very careful about what he wore all the time, self-conscious and shy. What made it worse, was that his anxieties were all too similar to mine before I met him, and I hated the thought of him feeling how I used to.

Tonight he seemed extra nervous upon coming home, stiffening as he stumbled into my arms when I opened the door for him. "...hey…" he mumbled into me, resting his head against my shoulder.

Upon not feeling the normal rush of warmth I felt from having his body against mine, I slipped my fingers under his jacket. There was absolutely no heat under his clothing, and a lump formed in my throat. "Hey, you okay?" I asked softly, pressing a kiss against his neck. "You're freezing, Carlisle."

He nodded. "Just tired…" The bag of groceries he was holding clattered against the table as he clumsily tried to put it down, and I just watched, trying to figure out what was actually wrong with him.

"You're not feeling sick again, are you?" I pressed carefully.

"I'm fine, Garrett," he promised. "It was just a long day." Despite his words, his reluctance to let me touch him didn't escape my notice.

It hurt, and I decided to just leave him alone. There was nothing that sprung to mind which I had done that would have upset him, but he didn't want my hands on him despite it. I bit my lip and went into the longue, trying to settle but too displaced to be comfortable. I was starting to miss the way he used to hug me when he came home, and how he cuddled into me in bed. Carlisle wasn't Carlisle any more.

I left him to sort himself out, unable to help brooding over it as I watched TV. This fucking sucked, and I wasn't even sure what I had done wrong; I missed him.

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It hadn't dawned on me how late it was, until he interrupted my train of thought. "Coming to bed tonight, Gar?" he asked softly, leaning against the hallway door frame and sleepily rubbing his face. It'd been a few hours, and he must have already been asleep for a while. "Aren't you working tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I guess," I mumbled, fidgeting with the remote.

"...is everything okay?" Beside me now, his hand rested lightly on my shoulder.

"What'd I do wrong?" I hadn't meant the question to be backed with so much emotion, and it clearly took him by surprise too.

He took the remote out of my hand, switching the TV off and sitting on the edge of the coffee table in front of me. "What'd you mean? You haven't done anything." Looking worried now, he trapped one of my hands between both of his, squeezing my fingers.

"You're...upset with me?" I glanced down at him, letting our eyes meet.

"No- no, I'm not." Now he was upset with me, if he wasn't before; he looked scared. "Of course I'm not...why would you think…?" His fingers brushed my cheek as he leaned forward to kiss me, his other hand teasing the back of my neck.

"...you don't want to talk anymore, and...I don't know, Carlisle, I just…"

"I don't want to make you feel bad, Garrett, you've been nothing but good to me; please don't think you've done anything wrong." He let me wrap my arms around him, kissing my neck as I pulled him into my lap. His lips trailed up my jaw as I ran my hands up his back, letting me shift him so he was somewhat straddling me, his fingers in my hair. "I love you, I'm really sorry if I've cut you out; I didn't mean to."

A little relieved by his reassurances, I tightened my hold on him. I was sure he was lighter than he used to be, while he was on top of me like this, but it wasn't a conversation for now. "What's going on with you, then?"

He frowned, sighing quietly and hesitating before answering. "I'm trying to adjust, I guess? I'm not sure...things seem harder after I screwed up the other weekend. I scared you and your mother, and I ruined what was supposed to be a good night out… It was just one night; it's just dumb that it still makes me feel like crap," he mumbled eventually. "..my job isn't what I thought it would be…"

"Why am I only just finding out this now? You can tell me when things aren't right." I squeezed him, sad that he hadn't said anything after all this time.

Just shrugging, he thought about it for a moment. "I didn't want you to worry about it."

"Please tell me when things are wrong," I pleaded.

"Let's go to bed, Gar, it's almost two AM; we both have work in the morning." He changed the subject to avoid answering me. "You're doing everything perfectly; don't worry about it."

I compiled; it was far too late to be up. Slipping my fingers through his, I squeezed his hand. "Ignoring things isn't going to make things better, Carlisle."

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I'd be forever grateful that Carlisle didn't turn my words on me. My stomach was in my throat, and I was trying to pretend that the whole thing wasn't happening, but I was standing in the middle of a shopping mall having a panic attack because the date for Edward and Bella's wedding was far closer than I had anticipated. I was squeezing my boyfriend's hand so tightly it must have been hurting, ignoring the sick feeling in my chest and attempting to convince myself everything was fine.

Without saying anything, Carlisle started to pull me toward one of the exits, slipping his arm around me waist. "Breathe, Garrett," he murmured softly. "You'll get dizzy."

I already felt like I was going to black out, but I didn't tell him that; I was pretty sure I'd scream if I opened my mouth, and the walls of the food hall were already closing in on me. My knees were weak under me, and I put all of my focus on the door.

As soon as we were outside, he guided me to sit on the closest park bench, sitting next to me and pulling me into a hug. "What happened?" he asked softly.

My lungs were burning as I sucked in the fresh air, and I leaned my cheek against his shoulder. What had happened, was that while wandering through a department store in search of a wedding present, I'd come to the sudden realisation that I was going to have to shop for clothing for the event. Although I had been pretty sure I was okay with myself, this was suddenly my worst nightmare. "I don't know," I told him instead. "I don't want to do this…"

"I'll do it by myself, then, and you can go home," he suggested, rubbing my back.

I shook my head, holding fistfuls of his t-shirt against his shoulder blade to try and calm down. "...I want to do this with you…" Quiet for a while, I focused on getting enough air into my lungs to stop my head spinning, and trying to untie the knot in my stomach. Eventually I felt okay enough to sit back again. "...what is someone supposed to wear to a wedding, anyway?" I asked, carefully broaching the subject. I'd managed to block out whatever I'd been told for my brother's ceremony all those years ago.

He squeezed my hand, obviously realising the problem. "That's what you're worried about?" It wasn't mean question, and more a moment of realisation than anything.

"I thought I was fine with it, but I feel like I'm going to suffocate whenever I get too close to the fitting rooms, and...I thought I was past this…" I admitted, a little scared to look at him.

Running his fingers through my hair, he kissed me quickly. "You're doing so much better than when I first met you, though," he reminded me, keeping one hand on my waist.

The only reason I was going better was because he was so patient with me, but I kept my mouth shut. Instead, I risked glancing up at him, suddenly realising that he didn't look very well. I suspected that maybe we'd been out too long and he hadn't had breakfast before we left.

"No one will be looking at us anyway; it doesn't matter what you wear. Whatever you wore to my father's funeral would probably be fine?" He'd tried to hide it, but a discomfort flashed across his face before he managed to smother it again, faint hurt. "It's the same type of formal, right?"

I nodded, leaning forward to bring our lips together again. "...I guess so...Should we stop and get something to eat on the way home?"

My attempt at baiting him into eating didn't work; he just looked confused. "If you're already feeling like this, Gar, maybe we should postpone that?" Rubbing my hand, he was silently pleading with me for forgiveness for his assumption that I couldn't handle it.

Unfortunately, he was right; I was pretty sure I would puke if I tried to swallowing anything at the moment. "Alright, I'll cook when we get home, then. Let's go get this damn present."

"We don't have to do that today; I can come back by myself later," he told me as I stood up, his hands on my waist to steady me.

"Let's just get it over and done with." I couldn't shake a gut feeling of not wanting Carlisle to be out by himself, but I also couldn't decide why I was so worried about it. He was an adult; he would realistically be fine. But even though he was the one trying to steady me, he was the one that was unsteady on his feet.

Nodding, he gave in and just held my hand, careful to not take me through the food hall or anywhere too overwhelming. It took us another hour to get back to the car, and I was thoroughly had it. "Do you feel okay to drive home?" Carlisle asked as we made it to the carpark. His hold on my fingers had become rather weak, and it wasn't instilling any confidence in me.

"Yes, I'll be fine," I assured him, quickly wrapping my arm around his waist as he stumbled. "Are you alright?"

"...little bit lightheaded," he mumbled, leaning into me.

"Don't faint in the middle of the carpark," I warned, only half kidding.

"I won't," he tried to tell me, only to trip as we reached the car.

"Jesus, Carlisle." I quickly unlocked the door and pushed him into the passenger's seat. "Put your head between you knees." I didn't know if that was an actual thing or not, but I vaguely remembered mum telling me to do it once when I complained I was dizzy.

His breathing was unsteady, and he did what he was told. I just kept my hand on his shoulder, not wanting him to fall forward if he did happen to lose consciousness.

Eventually, he sat back again, a little more colour in his cheeks. I closed his door, and got into the driver's side. "What brought all that on?"

"I don't know...it happens at work sometimes, and I just have to sit down for a bit and it gets better…" he admitted, reaching for my hand.

My frustration almost bubbled over, but I managed to hold my tongue. "What on earth am I going to do with you?"

"...Take me home for a nap?" he asked, teasing me, although I was pretty sure that was what he wanted.

I rolled my eyes, unable to help chuckling for myself. "Alright, Carlisle."

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