Does anyone else ever go over and over something so many times that it doesn't make sense anymore? Because that unfortunately is this chapter…

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Everything had been okay until it was almost time to leave. Needing help to get ready had been enough of a slap in the face to remind him of his current state, and he was tired before we even made it to the kitchen. It certainly hadn't helped his confidence any. I didn't bother offering him breakfast as we made coffee - instead, I found myself supervising him as he poured boiling water into both of our mugs, just waiting for the crash. A sigh of relief escaped before I could stop it once the jug was back on its cradle.

"I can manage," he told me. His cheeks were still hot from the effort getting dressed had required, and he really wasn't feeling good now. The painkillers helped, but not a lot.

I nodded, still hovering like a concerned parent. I knew he was hating every second of being dependant and that I was only making him more aware of it by being so close, but I couldn't help it. Not while he was like this. He handed me my mug and reached down to pet the kitten. Instantly, I could see it hadn't been a good idea; he gave up halfway, pain flashing across his face as his ribs complained. "Sit down, and I will bring her to you."

He did as he was told, moving to the table. As soon as I set her in his lap, he was stroking her. Having her seemed to dull the sting of annoyance he felt toward not being able to get her himself.

"Have you thought about what you want to name her?" I asked to distract him.

"...'Fox'?" he suggested after thinking for a moment. "She's quick enough."

I honestly didn't care, but it made me chuckle as I nodded. "Fox is cute." It was better than 'the kitten', which is what I'd been calling her whenever I spoke to Riley about her. We needed to leave, but I didn't want to rush him; the slightest push was going to shove him over the edge.

He was quiet for a few minutes, his head down as he kept his fingers on the kitten. "...I can't do this, Garrett…"

"Yes you can, Carlisle." My hands were instantly on his waist as he stood up again. I'd managed to finish my drink, but he hadn't touched his, and it didn't get past me. "Have your coffee before we go?"

"I can't...I can't sit through a meeting, and I can't be in the same room as him," he pleaded. "I can't, Gar…I don't know what I was thinking when I agreed to this happening today..."

I wrapped my arms around him, shifting him into me and gently rubbing the small of his back. "I know you're sore, but it'll be over in a few hours. It'll be okay," I soothed, kissing his neck. "You're going to be alright; he can't hurt you anymore." That was a lie and we both knew it.

He didn't reply, tightly squeezing my hand as we made our way to the elevator in our apartment block. Even just walking, I could see the pain on his face, and he shuffled closer to me in the lift. "I can't…" he repeated.

"You have to." I felt cruel, forcing him into the car and seeing how much it hurt him.

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Unfortunately Caius's car was already in the carpark when we pulled up. If he wasn't on edge before, he really was now. Tears threatened to overflow as I helped him out of the car. "...My head hurts; I'm going to throw up…" That was the first time he'd openly complained to me about anything. Maybe it was a good thing he hadn't eaten after all.

"Breathe, Carlisle," I reminded him. I kept a tight hold of his hand, knowing how badly he wanted to bolt. Not that he'd be running anywhere in his current state.

Just before we reached the office, Carlisle quickly wiped away a few tears, his cheeks already burning and his hand shaking in mine. He was squeezing my fingers so tightly that it was hurting, but I didn't ask him to let go. "I-I really can't do this," he whispered frantically, back peddling a little. "What if they take his side?"

"You have to," I argued, sighing as I hugged him. The bones under his jacket were uncomfortable to touch, seeming even more painful while he was so vulnerable. "After this, we can go home, but right now you need to go into that office."

"...I'm scared, Garrett..." he admitted.

"I know." Against my better judgement, I pushed him back, kissing him quickly and settling for holding his hand again. "You've given them the texts he sent you, and the police report, right?"

"Yeah, but…"

"Then it will be fine." It would be fine, or I was suing the fuck out this damn company on his behalf.

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Everything seemed bright and foreign since the last time we'd been up here. People stared at him while he pretended they weren't there, and the entire floor at fallen quiet at our entry. For those of them that hadn't been there during the attack, the news had obviously spread like wildfire. He just pulled me forward, desperate to be out from under their scrutiny.

Upon walking into the office, the man behind the desk frowned. It was a little too obvious that Carlisle had been crying and was utterly terrified, and it wasn't exactly professional. "You don't need to worry, Carlisle, you're not the one on trial here," he murmured lowly, his eyes flicking over to me. Caius wasn't in the room yet, which was a blessing, seeming as it meant that Carlisle wasn't having a complete breakdown as soon as we entered.

That only lasted a second; he saw him look at me, and freaked out immediately. "Please can he stay? He's my partner, a-and..."

He nodded patiently. "That's fine; whatever you need to feel safe while this is going on." Pausing, he waited for him to calm down a little bit before continuing. "But I do need you to tell me what is happening, and I need to know all of it."

Swallowing thickly, he glanced at me before continuing.

I sat in silence, listening to weeks of abuse spill out of my boyfriend. By the end of it, he was shaking and crying and beyond embarrassed, having a panic attack and unable to calm down. And I was fucking furious. He hadn't told me half of what he had just admitted, and it hurt as much as I understood that he didn't want to face it. The man stood up, poured a glass of water from the jug on his desk for each of us, and headed toward the door. "I'll give you two a minute. I just wanted to hear it from you first, Carlisle, because I know he'll deny it."

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It was as though he'd just managed to get it together when the devil himself waltzed into the room. He shot me a dirty glare, before pointedly looking my boyfriend up and down. Carlisle shuddered before he could stop himself, flinching under his stare. Caius took the only spare seat in the room beside me. Thank god, he couldn't get any closer to Carlisle.

I was sitting on my hands to avoid beating the absolute shit out of the man next to me as he had the nerve to blame Carlisle for leading him on as soon as he was asked. He'd obviously carefully rehearsed what he wanted to say - Carlisle was right; he really did want to paint himself as the victim. Hearing it from his mouth, that he was being blamed for causing everything that had happened just like he'd feared, seemed to shatter my boyfriend.

"Shut up," Caius snapped at him. "This is your fault anyway; you've got nothing to whine about."

"You're not the one with hundreds of filthy messages on your phone and broken bones," I shot back, glaring at him as we looked at each other.

He just rolled his eyes. "Jealousy is a sour thing, Garrett-"

"Don't speak to him!" Everyone jumped as Carlisle yelled at him, quickly coming to my defense. He was so pale I was wondering whether I should make him sit on the floor in case he fell.

Caius was fuming but looked forward at his superior. "Are you going to allow this kind of behaviour within your company?" he asked arrogantly.

"Considering the claims made against you, Mr Volturi, you're in no position to be suggesting what I should be tolerating," he replied calmly. Despite his tone, he was clenching his jaw, all the subtle signs of anger.

"You can't honestly believe him-"

"Are you meaning to tell me that the medical notes that Carlisle brought in with him are faked? Or that you didn't send the emails and texts and god knows what else? That the employee that you begged me to bring up here was so desperate to tarnish your reputation, that he made up such an elaborate lie?" His voice was rising slowly, and it seemed to scare Caius enough that he kept his mouth shut. "You can pack your things immediately; your fired. I want you out of this building within the hour, and I'll be filing a trespass complaint if you step foot on this property again."

There was a tense silence in the room, and Carlisle looked like he was going to pass out from the relief of it.

"He loses his job too," Caius grumbled, glancing at him.

"No, he does not. He gets this company's support if he chooses to press charges against you," he told him evenly. "Get out of my office; that's enough."

Caius's chair screeched on the wooden floor as he shoved in backwards when he stood. He stalked toward the door, slamming it hard as he exited. It was very reminiscent of Kate's tantrums when she didn't get her way. I forced back a smug smirk as the CEO started to talk again.

"Carlisle, the company is giving you four weeks paid leave, starting tomorrow, to try and, uh...recuperate. If you don't feel ready to come back to work after that, then come and see me and we can figure something out; I'm sure you'd be able to work from home for a while, if you need to." His tone was much gentler now, and his face had formed a kinder, apologetic frown.

"T-thank you…" he mumbled, leaning against me. I gently slipped my arm around him, rubbing his hip. Sitting was obviously wearing thin.

"We're deeply sorry for what has happened here; Caius will be barred from the premises, as I said. It's up to you whether or not you want press charges, but I recommend you do. I know this has been traumatic for you."

He just nodded, over it and wanting to go home.

"You're a valued employee here, and you're safety is the priority now-"

"Can I leave now?" he interrupted suddenly. It took everyone by surprise and shocked the man into silence for a few seconds. His face flushed as he came to terms with his own outburst. "Please? I-I appreciate all of this, but I really don't feel well…" he mumbled softly.

"I understand, Carlisle. Call me if you have any questions, or if there's anything I can do." He stood to shake both of our hands, smiling grimly.

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We made it out of the building and into the car before he started to come apart. Looking like he wanted to be sick at any second, he just kept his head down, refusing to look at me. I hoped he wouldn't puke; if nothing else, it would aggravate his ribs something terrible.

"It's over, Carlisle, you're safe now," I reminded him, reaching over to rub his leg as I drove. Under my hand, I could feel him shaking, but he was trying hard to contain it.

He let out a shaky breath. "Thank god." It didn't need to be said that he needed the security of home now. "Thanks for coming; I'm sorry he yelled at you."

"You have nothing to apologise for - especially not for his behaviour." I risked a glance away from the road at him. Despite his victory, he still didn't look comforted. "Are you not happy about the outcome?" I asked carefully.

"Of course I am," he said quickly. "It's far better than what I'd hoped for. Just...every time something goes well, it all seems to come crashing down again...I'm tired of all of this." This really wasn't a conversation for a car ride. His teeth sunk into his lip, the exhaustion really starting to show again.

My heart clenched, and I involuntarily squeezed his thigh in response. "You've had a pretty shit year."

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"For what?" The frown was inevitable.

"For this relationship always being so one-sided. For making you pick up the pieces over and over again. For making your life difficult all the time." As he spoke, his fingers pulled at the brace around his wrist, purposefully digging into the exposed skin until he drew blood. I didn't think he knew he was doing it, but that didn't stop a knot of discomfort forming in my stomach.

"That isn't true, Carlisle." Needing him to stop the destructive behaviour before I accidently ran us off the road, I grabbed his good hand, holding it tightly.

"Yes it is; even if you don't see it like that, you're basically my carer at the moment, and you've had to put your career on hold because I can't look after myself-"

"It isn't like I even had any initiative toward my job anyway; I sit at a desk all day, I'm not going anywhere in a hurry in that department," I pointed out, interrupting to make him stop. I'd lost my grip on his hand, and he'd immediately reverted back to the self-injury. "Look, all I want from you is for you to go to counselling." It would have done him good to have gone years ago, in terms of getting over his father.

The car was very quiet for a moment. "I will, but can we just go home now? I can't take much more of this, Gar…"

I nodded. I wasn't sure if it was the topic or the pain, but something was making it hard for him to hold back tears. A meltdown in the car wasn't something I was prepared for.

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Carlisle slept for a solid twelve hours after we got home. I'd gone to make us something for lunch, but he'd curled up on the bed and fallen asleep by the time I'd come back. I didn't touch him for fear of waking him up; he hadn't gotten changed or pulled the blankets over himself, but I let him be anyway.

It was only after soft movement in the kitchen woke me up, that I found I'd dozed off on the couch. The furniture groaned as I propped myself up on my elbows to see over the back of it. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Come to bed, Gar, what are you doing? It's late." He wandered over to me, rubbing the back of my hand as I set it on the arm rest. He was moving quite stiffly, wincing as he carefully sat down next to me. "I just slept wrong; I'm fine," he mumbled when he caught my worried glance.

"You slept, though, that's good." I forced myself to wake up properly. I suddenly wasn't sleepy anymore, and he didn't look like he was either. "This morning was a relief, huh?" Finding his fingers, I gently squeezed them, pleased when it made him smile.

"I'm so glad that's over; even if Caius doesn't get charged with anything, at least I won't end up back in London, and I still have a job...and it won't be hurting us anymore."

"It was never going to hurt us, Carlisle, get that idea out of your head," I reminded him gently. "How does a midnight snack sound? You haven't eaten all day." That, and food tasted better to me at one AM.

He glanced at the time again and groaned. "Okay, I guess. Do you want help, or-"

"I can handle the microwave on my own; stay put." I tilted his chin up with my fingertips, softly bringing my lips to his. "You find something to watch instead." Putting the TV remote in his hand, I knew there was no way he was going to have any luck, unless he wanted to watch infomercials all night.

Remarkably, he managed to dredge up Lord of the Rings on an abstract channel, having sunken into cushions by the time I got back. He glanced up at me as I handed him a plate, checking that his choice was okay, and managing a small smile once I nodded. He didn't say anything until I set my empty plate down a few minutes later. "...can you please…?" he asked softly, pleading with me to understand without making him say the words.

"Yeah." I took his plate from him; I'd forgotten to cut up his food, and his feeble attempt had failed miserably. "It's fine, Carlisle, don't worry about it." He looked unsure now, despite his victory this morning.

He slowly picked at the meal once I handed it back to him. Everytime I glanced at him, he would hesitate, and I forced myself to watch the TV and not him. "...I called the councillor this afternoon; I have an appointment next week…"

That was better than I'd hoped. I fought back a smile and slid my hand onto his knee. "I'm really happy about that," I admitted after a moment.

"...I told you I would…" he mumbled.

"I didn't think you would do it that quickly." As soon as he was done eating, I pulled him into my arms, moulding myself around him so that it wouldn't hurt. "Thank you; I know you don't want to go, but I think it will help you - if not with Caius, with…"

"Dad…" he sighed, fighting back a groan.

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Neither of us got to bed before four AM, but Carlisle was up at seven anyway. He'd wandered out of the room to let me sleep, but I heard him come back in about half an hour later. "I know it's early, but is it okay if Al comes over for a bit? He's not feeling good…" he asked softly.

I barely resisted telling him that he lived here as equally as I did, and there was no point in him asking permission. It wasn't like it mattered too much; I could sleep through the visit anyway. "Yeah, of course," I mumbled into the pillows. It wasn't long before a knock at the door woke me up again, and I surrendered any chance of a sleep in. Caffeine would have to suffice as energy today.

"Jesus, you look like absolute shit." Alistair pointedly looked him up and down as soon as he was allowed inside, but Carlisle ignored it.

"So do you." He wasn't wrong; I might not have been told entirely what was going on, but it was obvious something was wrong just by looking at Alistair - clothing askew and hair a mess, he must have rushed out of the house.

"I missed you." His voice was softer now, and he enclosed Carlisle in a careful hug. I tried not to wince at the contact, praying that he was gentle enough.

"What happened, Al?" he asked quietly. His question made the other man groan, his hold on him tightening.

The next breath he took was trembly and weird, and I suddenly regretted being present. As far as Alistair and I had come in terms of our relationship, I wasn't prepared to watch him have a meltdown. "Randal and I are fighting," he mumbled. "I don't know what to do, Carlisle, I love him but it's not working out, and..."

And that was my cue to get out. Riley had been badgering me for the past two weeks about getting coffee or something, and that was looking like a really good idea right at that moment. The two of them would probably appreciate the privacy anyway. "I'm going to Riley's," I murmured in my boyfriend's ear as I kissed him goodbye. "Please call me if you need me."

"I'll be fine; go enjoy yourself, Gar," he told me, looking a little too pleased that I was going. He never did stop feeling guilty about my staying home all the time, becoming almost desperate to get me out of the house and doing something other than look after him. That, and he was starting to feel smothered.

I decided to walk into town rather than drive, quickly flicking my coworker a text on the way, asking if he still wanted to do something. His reply was an almost instant yes.

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"Hey, Garrett." Sporting his normal friendly smile, he made his way over to me, enclosing me in a tight hug. "How are things?"

"Good," I grinned. "Carlisle's doing a lot better now everything's settling."

"And what about you?" he prompted. He stepped closer to me as we walked - we'd decided a wander around town would suit us both fine, seeming as his girlfriend's parents were visiting and he wanted to get away for awhile.

That brought on a frown. "I'm fine; there was never anything wrong with me," I reminded him. My heart skipped a few beats and a knot of discomfort formed in my stomach; I didn't want to get into this line of conversation.

"I know you've been stressed with everything that's going on, I just need to know you're okay too," he murmured lowly.

"I'm fine, Riley," I repeated. "Really." Trying to distract him, I gave him a run down on the new developments regarding Caius, and it worked for the time being. It didn't take much to set him off about his in-laws, either, and I was suddenly very glad that I didn't have any.

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All too soon, I was making my way back home. It was early evening now, but Alistair was still there. It bothered me slightly that it was Carlisle comforting him and not the other way around - relationship drama or not,it didn't seem right. I wondered if he'd told his friend what had happened over the last few months, and from the heat in his cheeks and the irritation on Alistair's face, he had. My presence seemed to chase our guest from the house, and I waited in the kitchen while they said their goodbyes.

"Do you think he'd take self defense lessons if we dragged him there?" Alistair grumbled to me, suddenly beside me at the bench. He looked pissed.

"What do you think? He barely wants to get out of bed," I grumbled back.

He groaned, exasperated. "You're right; he wouldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag if we gave him scissors. He's like the kid in the hunger games who gave up and fed himself to the tigers or some shit, just because he doesn't want to hurt anyone else."

I couldn't not laugh at that, though it was sadly true.

"Goodnight, Garrett, sorry for barging in this afternoon."

"Come back when you need to. Night, Alistair."

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