Chapter 89! I can't believe I'm still writing this! Merry Christmas and Happy new year everyone :)

We spent the whole evening curled up on the couch together. It felt wrong, holding him like that when it had been Heidi in my arms only hours before. He seemed to want me more than usual, like on some subconscious level he knew that 'd been with someone else. I was exhausted; the nerves from my weird balancing act had me running on empty, and I wasn't sure whether I wanted to push him off me or pull him closer. I settled on the last option, coiling my arms around his waist as he sat down next to me. It earned me a chaste kiss, his head coming to rest on my shoulder. I let my eyes fall closed, relaxed - until he pulled me right out of it.

"Do you still want to get married? To me, I mean." He'd grabbed the remote out of my hand when I pretended to be fixated on the show, muting the TV during an ad break so I had to pay attention to him. Sinking down further in his seat, he refused to look at me like he regretted asking.

I was suddenly violently awake. "Where did that come from, Carlisle?" I groaned. Whatever had started this, that boy was far too observant. "Don't be silly."

His face reddened a little and he fidgeted, but he stuck to it. "You didn't answer my question."

"Of course I do; I love you." I tried to kiss him, but it fell flat while he was distracted. "You didn't answer mine, either."

"I don't know. Things feel different lately, and I thought maybe you didn't want this anymore," he mumbled. It hung heavily between us, and he picked at his fingers until they bled, suddenly stiff in my arms. It was also the first time ever that it felt like he didn't want me to touch him.

"Different how?" I pressed, kissing his temple and sighing when he did. "What'd you mean?" This was making me panicky; I couldn't stomach the thought of losing him. Trapping his hand in mine, I tried to stop his self destruction, squeezing his fingers.

He paused, visibly reconsidering this whole conversation and carefully choosing his wording to stop another fight. "We don't spend much time together anymore, and you're never home, and when you are things feel strained. Maybe I'm home alone too much; fuck, I don't know. I just need to make sure that you still want this."

"I want us," I reassured him, trying to swallow away the lump in my throat. "I love you, Carlisle, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

There was another long pause where I could see he didn't quite believe me. "Am I being 'too much'?" he asked eventually. Our TV show had come back on again, but neither of us touched the volume. He watched the characters as they silently moved across the screen, and I watched him, willing him to believe me.

"No; who put that thought into your head? Stop it." Tightening my hold on him, I all but dragged him into my lap, forcing him to look at me. "I don't want to go back down the self-doubt track with you, please stop. Don't do that to yourself again." I was hugging him, resting my chin on his shoulder to hide the fact that I was going to cry; I didn't want my being a shitty human to make him feel awful again. I wasn't sure that he could take another blow like that any time soon.

"I don't know, Gar," he told me again. "But I've been sick a lot recently and I don't want to make things harder for us, and we've been arguing more than we used to, and you're so distracted all the time, and I'm so tired."

"Do you want me to call in sick tomorrow? We can do something fun," I suggested. He felt kind of fragile, with my arms around him like that, and I really didn't like it.

"I don't want you to spend time with me because you have to. Besides, I'll ruin it with a headache or something; it doesn't matter." Getting upset and failing at hiding it from me, he finally unmuted the TV, the two of us falling silent instead.

I couldn't leave it alone very long. "Why don't we try and find somewhere for you to get those allergy shots tomorrow, then?" I kissed his cheek, sort of feeling like we were arguing despite the affection and low voices. "That's a step in the right direction, right?"

"Yeah, but it's stupid and expensive and I-"

"But if they do work, you're going to be a whole lot less miserable. Are you feeling sick at the moment?" Pressing him never put us in a good place, but I didn't want him ill and not telling me - even if it was the same story I'd been hearing over the last couple of months.

"I don't feel well, but I'm not going to puke, if that's what you're worried about." He didn't want to talk about it anymore, trying to shut me down and turn away. The angle I had trapped him stopped him rolling away from me, and he buried his face in my chest as a means of escape. My fingers brushed the edge of his sweatshirt, pushing it up his back to rub my hand against his shirt.

"I'm worried about you in general, Carlisle. Come on; how many conversations have we had about communication?" I refused to relent.

There was a long silence where he considered being honest with me, his breath catching . "I'm bruising really bad; I didn't want to tell you before because you were worried about your grandparents, but every time I faint it's getting worse than it used to." Too roughly, he jerked up the sleeves of his sweatshirt, showing me the various shades of yellow and purple up his arms.

I tried to remember when the last time he'd had his clothes off and the lights on in front of me was. It still wasn't quite enough to distract me from his statement though. "You're still passing out? You should have told me that." I couldn't figure out how he'd hidden that either; I really was a shitty boyfriend.

"I didn't want you to worry," he repeated, bordering on tears now. His arms slid around my neck, his fingers knotting in my hair as he shifted to press his forehead against my throat, slipping his legs between mine to wriggle closer. He was more on me than beside, but the weight of his ribs against my abdomen was comforting with the conversation we were having. "I'm doing what the doctor told me, but all drinking so much water is doing is making me have to pee all the time, and I'm too tired to go for walks, and what's that supposed to do about headaches anyway?" He'd tried to joke with me, but it had derailed as he got more and more distressed by it.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me what's going on; I want to know what's happening, fuck." My hands felt cold and my whole body was a little numb as he mumbled something about going to bed. I released him when he pushed away to get up. He fled down the hallway, and I hesitated a second before switching off the TV and the lights in the kitchen and doing the same.

We didn't speak as we got ready for bed, and he didn't bother trying to hide the marks on his body as he got changed. I felt like absolute shit. I hated myself for sneaking around with some woman when he obviously had needed me here. And he'd managed to support me with my grandparents when he must have been feeling terrible. He didn't touch me once we were under the blankets, staying well on his side of the bed.

"Carlisle, come here?" I whispered in the darkness. I reached for his hand, locking our fingers together. "Are you upset with me?"

He shuffled closer, fitting himself against my side. "Not with you, just about all of this."

I kissed his cheek, squeezing him. "I'm sorry."

.

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Neither of us got much sleep until the very early morning. He was anxious and worked up, and I felt ill with guilt. By the time my alarm went off for work, I'd only been asleep for four hours, Carlisle even less. I switched it off again, falling back against the mattress. My movement had disturbed him a little, making him fidget and bury his face in the pillows in preparation for me turning on the light, and I glanced over at him. He looked so unwell and scared, and I knew I'd hurt him. Shuffling closer, I slid my arm under him, rolling him into me.

"Gar," he mumbled, protesting the time.

"Just ten more minutes; I won't be late," I soothed. While he was distracted, I fished around in the darkness to find my phone, my free hand against the small of his back. I quickly flicked a text to my manager behind him and fell asleep again. He might not ask me to stay home, but I sure as hell was going to.

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It was 9am the next time I woke up. I was still groggy and tired, and he was still in my arms. Slowly, I shuffled out from under him, sneaking into the kitchen after tucking the blankets around him. The longer he slept, the better. Making breakfast was unappealing, but I was sure I could talk him into a nap later on if I was still so tired. I got halfway through frying a batch of pancakes before he made an appearance in the kitchen, confused about my presence. "Why are you home? Are you not well?" he asked me. He wrapped his arms around my waist from behind as I stood at the stove, kissing my throat.

"I'm fine, but you weren't supposed to wake up until I was finished; I thought we could have breakfast in bed," I admitted. "I wanted to surprise you." I just hoped it appeared sweet and not horribly guilty.

"You staying home is a surprise. Isn't this going to get you in trouble with your manager?"

"No, she was good about it." Twisting in his arms, I turned to face him, tracing his spine with my fingertips as I rubbed his back. "I need you to talk to me today though, Carlisle. Please. I want to know what's happening to you. Everything."

"I'll talk," he promised. "Do you want help in the kitchen?"

I shook my head. "No, I want you to get back in bed and I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Does it have to be in a few minutes?" Kissing me gently, he tightened his hold on me.

"I mean, yeah, unless you don't want pancakes?" I teased, brushing my hands down his body to rest on his hips.

He rolled his eyes, hiding a smile. "Pancakes sound good."

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It had been a couple of weeks since Carlisle and I had been intimate, since he'd wanted anything past cuddling and soft kisses. I knew he still wasn't feeling the best, but I was getting a little overeager as soon as he had made the slightest advances towards me after we had finished eating. Spending so much time with Heidi was making her habits in bed rub off on me. I didn't register the look of shock on Carlisle's face as I roughly shoved him back onto the mattress until it was too late - there was no foreplay with her, everything just reckless and fast. I kissed him to distract him, knowing I was forgiven as he caught my bottom lip lightly between his teeth, his tongue gently rolling against mine.

I couldn't stop the moan in my throat as I pushed my hips against his. The jeans between us were suddenly infuriating, and I forced my hand between us to try and jiggle his belt undone. We really should have undressed before falling into bed, but he already had one leg wrapped around my waist, his hand sliding down to squeeze my ass and shift me closer to him. Lying between his knees, I struggled not to grind against him, frustrated as I fumbled to get his pants undone. He already had his hands under my shirt, bunching it under my arms until I pulled it over my head. I brushed my lips across his jaw, along his collarbones and down his chest, wincing as he knotted his fingers in my hair. My legs were shaky with anticipation, desperately needing some kind of friction.

Finally, I got his pants undone, tearing them down his thighs as he gently palmed me through my boxers. His hand froze and he sucked in a sharp breath at my abruptness. It took a couple of seconds for him to recover, slowly inching my underwear down enough for him to touch me, kissing any exposed skin he could reach as I leaned over him.

I grumbled a curse as I realised we didn't have anything ready. I had to shuffle up the bed, hovering over him as I quickly rifled through the bedside table to find lube in a condom. I dropped both as he moved slightly, his lips teasing my thighs before the warmth of his mouth surrounded my cock. My hand automatically tangled in his hair, roughly guiding his movements. He hummed his disapproval at me but it felt too good to stop it.

Somehow gathering enough wits to pull away, I shoved him back down against the bed. "Your shirt. Off." I instructed, a grin spreading across my face as he listened. My hands trembled as I poured a bit of lube over my fingers, ignoring his gasp as I touched him with the cold liquid. "Ready?" I covered his body with mine, burying my face in his neck as he nodded. He mumbled an almost silent 'yes' in my ear. He sounded strangely unsure, but my brain didn't register it, too relieved that he was finally letting this happen. Heidi was great an all, but things felt fucking amazing with him - he knew exactly how to drive me crazy.

He tensed up as soon as I pushed my fingers into him. It had been too sudden and he'd jerked his hips back from me. "Gar, I want this too, but you gotta slow down; I still don't feel that well," he mumbled into my shoulder.

"Sorry." I kissed his temple, careful this time as we gently built up a rhythm. It seemed like fucking forever before he admitted that he was ready, but he was still tense as I realigned our hips. Anticipation coiled in my stomach, and I was over eager as I pushed into him. My hands had been resting on his waist, and I felt the muscles in his abdomen tighten. He squeezed around me, his hand came to rest on the side of my face as he tried to get comfortable with the sensation, his thumb brushing over my cheek bone.

"Slowly," he repeated.

I nodded but wasn't really listening. He mumbled something else, but I didn't hear him, closing my hand around his cock to get his mind off of it. Without thinking, my free hand up to rest on his throat, pressing a little; Heidi always asked me to do it, liking the loss of control, and it was habit at this point. Carlisle tolerated it for a couple of seconds before his hands came up to cover my own.

"Garrett," he interrupted breathlessly. "I'm happy to try new things with you, but can we talk about it first?" His voice trembled ever so slightly, and I quickly drew my hand back.

"Sorry," I said again. I settled my weight on my elbows, slowing down our pace. It was becoming more and more obvious that he really wasn't into it anymore, and I started to put all my effort into getting him to finish. "You're so gorgeous like this; I love you." Gently sifting my fingers through his hair as it started to stick to him, I kissed his forehead, his cheek, his lips, along his throat, wherever he would let me. I started to wonder if he'd really wanted sex in the first place, or if he just wanted time with me - I hadn't really been spending that much time with him lately. "Carlisle, do you just want to cuddle?" I asked carefully. "We don't have to do this."

"I want to," he argued. The flush rising in his cheeks said otherwise.

"You're so tense, though, am I hurting you?" I'd stopped moving completely; it didn't feel all that consensual anymore, and he looked quite uncomfortable. I made the choice for him, breaking the contact between us to lie beside him, my arm slung over his waist. "Are you hurt, Carlisle?"

"No, I'm okay," he mumbled.

"Talk to me? Please?"

"It didn't hurt, Gar, I promise." Rubbing my hand as it rested on his stomach, he was a little confused by my persistence.

"Not about that. I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable, but I'm more worried about what's happening to you. Please tell me; I can't deal with not knowing what's going on anymore." I pulled him closer, trying to coax the words out of him, and he slowly started to relax again.

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.

He did talk. Finally. It broke my heart knowing that he'd been so ill without really letting me know. We stayed in bed after breakfast, watching disaster movies on his laptop and falling asleep for a few minutes at a time. I managed to coax him into picking at snacks at lunch time, a weight lifting off my shoulders once he was actually eating something.

"Wanna try and get those shots today? There must be a clinic somewhere that will give them to you." Currently, I had him curled up with his head in my lap, my hand resting on his shoulder as we half-heartedly stared at the computer screen. "And don't say it's not worth it, because it is if it could make you better." It wouldn't fix everything, but even if he could breathe better it would be a relief.

Quiet for a moment, he eventually nodded. "Okay." His hand tightened across my thigh, and he didn't move to get up. "Does it have to be right now? I mean, can we just stay…" he trailed off, drawing his knees up a little to get closer to me.

I frowned. "It's already after lunch; we'll run out of time if you want me to come with you; I'll have to work tomorrow."

He groaned, frustrated. "I really want you to come with me. Just incase it makes me sick or something." By the way he still held on to me, it sounded like he was nervous about it.

"I'll call around, unless you want to phone them?" I rubbed his hand, encouraging him to loosen his hold on me, and then eventually peeled his fingers off as he shook his head and I started to stand up. "Don't panic, alright? It'll be fine." Heading into the kitchen to find my phone, I went through a list of local doctor's practices, spending the next half hour calling most of them before I found one with a free appointment.

Carlisle had been pacing the floor behind me the entire time. It was impossible to tell whether he was worried about not getting a space, or nervous that I'd find one. "When's it for?" he asked softly as I hung up the phone.

I stood up to wrap him in a hug. "In a couple of hours. We can sit down again, if you would like." We just stayed like that when he didn't answer me, and he felt so fragile that I didn't want to let him go incase he came apart. Far too long passed where he didn't respond. "Carlisle? Everything okay?"

He nodded quickly. "Yeah, I just wish we weren't only spending time together because you feel bad for me."

"I'm not- well, I sort of am, but only because I love you and I don't want you to feel crappy all the time. I just want you to feel better." Kissing his temple, I squeezed him a little tighter. "Getting your allergies under control is a step in the right direction, yeah?" And it would distract us both from whatever the hell happened this morning.

Again, he nodded just to agree with me. "Al wants me to fly out to him for his birthday to go to dinner with a few friends, but I don't know if I'm going to be able to; the flight is only two hours, but I'm so nauseous all the time and that seems like a long time to be stuck on a plane if I get sick." He obviously hadn't told Alistair what was happening to him - he never would have asked him to come otherwise.

I hated the idea; even if it wouldn't be horribly taxing on him, I didn't want to be home by myself that long. We hadn't been apart that long since his father died, even though it would only be a few days. "Let's worry about that after you've got the injections, yeah?"

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Some poor woman in the waiting room was gripping a vomit container for dear life, moaning and groaning and clutching at her stomach. Someone else was sneezing and sweating bullets. Not a good place for someone who was already not feeling the best. I squeezed his hand a little tighter as he spoke to the receptionist, rubbing his leg as we took a couple of seats in the waiting room. He leaned his head against my shoulder and hugged my arm. We both cringed as the woman puked. Great. Hopefully we wouldn't have to sit here long.

It seemed like an eternity before his name was called, but it only took a few minutes after he signed the consent forms for them to have the shots in him. We almost scrambled to get out of the doors after paying, racing to the car and laughing at ourselves for being so selfish. Now we just had to hope it helped him.