I hope you all are keeping your sanity in our crazy world at the moment, and thanks for reading this far :)

It had been a week, and it was unbearably awkward. It took me two nights to build the courage to sleep next to him again - sleep being a stretch of the word; his tossing and turning and inability to be comfortable woke me up every half hour. We were both short tempered, things between us not at all helped by the inevitable snapping that came with it. I'd had more than enough by the time Friday night arrived. It was tempting to join my coworkers in town for drinks, but by the time I'd showered and had dinner, I found myself sitting on the couch in my pajamas, beer in hand as I watched mindless TV to pass the time until I could go to bed and not sleep. This was worse than being single. Far worse. And it was absolutely freezing tonight.

"Can I sit with you?" His voice made me jump, his cheeks pink when I glanced at him. The blanket from our bed was draped around his shoulders in a hopeless attempt to keep warm. He was slowly healing, from what little I could tell, but he still wasn't doing well. That was the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth. He'd hardly said two words to me since I had gotten home.

"Uh, yeah? If you want," I mumbled. I shuffled along the sofa a little, trying to make space for him to sit down. Watching him, I tried to figure out how much pain he was in, or if he was completely high off his medication, but he seemed okay. "Do you want to watch something, or…?" I assumed that there was just some movie that he wanted to see, and that was why he was out here - he hadn't wanted to be around me since he came home. This was the first time he chose to sit in the same room as me.

He shook his head. "No, not really, I just...I wanted to be with you for a bit," he said shyly. He folded his legs under himself as he sat down, close but not quite touching me.

I was dying to have his hands on me again. "Are you okay?" I put my hand on the pillow between us, an open invitation for his fingers to meet mine.

He hesitated for so long I wondered if he was ignoring me. "I miss you."

"I miss you too, Carlisle. So much," I whispered. I held my breath as his fingertips brushed over my palm, my thumb rubbing the back of his hand. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yeah, it's a little sore, but it's manageable. This isn't though." He moved to pull his hand back, but I tightened my grip a little, a soft sigh slipping between his lips when I didn't immediately release him. "What are we doing, Garrett? I feel like I'm living with a stranger."

"We've known each other two years." I knew what he meant; everything did feel strange now, and he was tiptoeing around me like all of this was new for us, like we hadn't been living together for months.

He sighed through his teeth. "Gar, I don't think you understand. I don't want to lose you either, but I can't trust you, and it's going to be hard to get that back."

"I know. I told you that it didn't matter to me how long it takes." Closing my fingers around his wrist, I placed his hand in my lap. Having him so close was making my heart race like it used to when we first met.

Frustrated, he groaned and leaned his head back against the couch. "I don't know how to put this politely, but I don't know if I can love you again. We could go on like this for months, and it would have been a waste of time."

"It's not a waste of time for me. I'm more than willing to do that if it means I might be able to fix this. I love you. If you're willing to do this, so am I." Slowly, I thought maybe we were making progress. Or at least he hadn't yelled at me since he'd come home. His hesitance worried me, though. "Please, Carlisle. Try with me again. Even if it's just while you're sick, and then when you're feeling better, you can, uh, reevaluate."

"What choice do I have? It's not as though I can leave. I got dizzy walking to the kitchen this morning." Getting upset, he shuffled a little closer, wrapping his free arm around mine, hugging it cautiously.

I pulled it free of him to wrap it around his shoulders. The rejection I half expected never came; he leaned his head against my chest, tucking himself against my side as I slowly traced circles against his bicep. Pure bliss. I missed this so much.

We stayed in silence for a few minutes until he surrendered completely, giving in to needing comfort and wrapping his arm around my waist. "I really don't feel well; taking all the medication is screwing me up."

"What'd you need me to do?" I just hoped it didn't mean he was going to pull away.

"Nothing, I just need…" He trailed off, sinking further into my side.

"I can do that." Perfect.

.

.

My feet up on the coffee table, I sank back into the cushions as he lay with his head in my lap, fidgeting with his hair. We'd managed to watch an entire movie together without arguing, and I was absolute heaven, even if he was struggling to relax. I leaned my neck back against the couch, my free hand coming to rest on his shoulder, gently rubbing his arm through his shirt. "Is your stomach okay?"

Too tense to be considered comfortable, he nodded anyway. "It's alright." Shifting slightly, he caught my arm, kissing the back of my hand once it was in reach. "I'm tired, sorry."

"Me too. Are you still going to want to cuddle if we go to bed?" I asked cautiously. I'd stay awake all night if it meant that I could stay with him like this.

"Yeah, just please don't touch me where-" he cut himself off suddenly, his cheek getting warmer against my thigh.

I squeezed his hand, frowning. "I won't touch you where you're cut, Carlisle," I promised quietly. "Let's go and lie down?"

He nodded, slowly starting to get up. Now that he was moving, he was rather hesitant, hovering on the edge of the couch for a moment before he stood up. His face had paled a little, his teeth sinking deep into his lip. He dealt with the discomfort after a few seconds, wandering down the hallway to fall into bed.

I lingered in the kitchen a little longer. I desperately, desperately needed a good night's sleep, but I wasn't going to get one if Carlisle couldn't be still. He'd been fidgeting next to me on the couch, a tell-tale sign that he wasn't about to sleep easily. Sighing, I dug through the cupboard until I found a heat pack, jamming it in the microwave and boiling the kettle. The lack of rest made my head throb, the droning of the oven and rattling of the jug not helping as I leaned my forehead against the cupboard. Maybe tea would help. Tea helped everything.

It took an agonisingly long time for the water to be heated, even longer for the tea to be ready. I threw the tea bags in the sink to deal with in the morning and switched off all of the lights in the longue, finally trailing him down the hallway. "You want a hot drink?" I asked him, trying to swallow away the nervousness in my throat. "I made tea."

He managed a small smile. "Yeah, thanks, Gar."

A little fuzzy from the alcohol I'd had, his mug spilled as I set it down on the bedside table. It would have been worse if he hadn't quickly taken it from me to avoid it tipping over. "Sorry." Unable to help myself, I reached out to run my hand through his hair, sweeping it off of his face. "It's getting longer."

He frowned, not entirely at ease with my affection yet. "Are you coming to bed?" he asked to distract me.

I nodded. I was definitely ready to sleep. As I wriggled under the blankets, I pressed the heat pack against his side, my fingers brushing against bare skin where his shirt had shifted up. "Cuddle this. See if this helps the bruising?"

For some reason, the gesture brought a little warmth to his face, but he did hug it against his abdomen. "I thought I was supposed to cuddle you," he murmured.

"You can still do that, I just want you to be able to sleep," I reassured him, slipping my arm behind his shoulders. It prompted him to shuffle closer. Even if he wanted it, things were still awkward. Less so as he rolled toward me, the warmth of the heat pack soaking through my shirt as he wedged it between us, his head on my shoulder and his arm draped over my waist. I'd missed this more than anything.

"I've been keeping you awake," he mumbled into me. "Haven't I?"

"It's not your fault." Despite it feeling like I was pushing my luck for tonight, I pressed a soft kiss against his forehead, my hand drifting down his spine. Our tea was quickly going cold, but I didn't care, sinking back into the pillows. "I love you, Carlisle. I know you're not ready to forgive me yet, and that's okay, but I've really missed this."

"I've missed this too." Still not returning 'I love yous' then. "I missed you."

.

.

I woke up the next morning with him back on his side of the bed. No longer wrapped around me. I felt the loss immediately after noticing it; I wanted this back how it used to be. Still, I'd been out for a solid ten hours, and felt far more alive than I had the evening before. Hopefully he'd slept as well as I had. I waited until he started to shift before sitting up. "Want me to make breakfast?" I offered, pulling his pillow closer to him when he started to do it himself.

Sleepy, it took a moment for him to make sense of my words. "Um, I can help you, just let me wake up a bit."

I closed my hand around his shoulder, holding him against the bed before he started to sit up. "It's fine; let me cook for you." He hadn't eaten properly since he'd come home from the hospital, and certainly didn't have the energy to cook for himself. "Why don't you go back to sleep if you're tired? I'll warm this up again." While he wasn't paying attention, I slid the now-cold heat pack out from under the blankets, throwing my legs out of bed. "Stay put, Carlisle. I'll wake you up again when it's done." Playing nurse made me feel better about everything that had happened, and he sure as hell hadn't been caring for himself that well over the last week.

In the kitchen, I had bacon and eggs in a pan within a few minutes. I didn't trust that Carlisle wouldn't come out and try to help me, and I wanted it done before he got the opportunity. It wasn't that I didn't want him with me, though. That I was dying for.

No such luck. I did have to go and wake him up once it was done, nudging him until he made sense of my words and agreed to come and eat. "I'll do the dishes, then," he offered.

"No, Carlisle. Have breakfast, and then sit your ass down and don't go getting up," I instructed, only half kidding in my warning.

"I have to work today," he said defiantly, rolling his eyes. "I haven't touched my projects since I left for the airport."

"You can do that from the couch, can't you?" I grumbled back. "It's a Saturday; you can't go to the office anyway." There was little possibility he'd be doing that for a while; the hallway provided enough of a challenge most days, so there was no way in hell he could survive a trip that far. "Did you sleep better last night?"

My question made his cheeks pink. "Yeah, thanks." He forced a smile as I pulled out his chair, careful sitting down.

I sat across from him after putting out plates on the table, more than pleased as he took a little bite of it. He hadn't thrown up since the first day he'd come home, so I had faith that it might stay down for once. "Have you been feeling better?" I asked hopefully.

He nodded. "It's hurting less than it did, and I'm not so nauseous which is nice. I just get nervous about being knocked, and…"

"I've noticed," I teased gently.

He smiled again. "Am I being difficult?"

I shook my head. "No, but I can see you're anxious."

"Thank you for cooking."

"Thank you for being with me last night."

.

.

He fell asleep on the couch not long after he'd sat down. So much for getting work done. I had to save his project and carefully put his laptop on the floor after seeing it precariously balancing on the edge of the couch. There was no way he was getting anything done. I thought it was better that way, but no doubt he would stress when he woke up.

I set about cleaning up our apartment, changing the sheets on our bed and doing the washing which had been sitting in the basket for over a week. The cat followed me from room to room, grumbling as I nudged her out of the way with my foot, her little paws lashing out to swat at my ankles. She'd been fed, but obviously I hadn't given her the attention she wanted. "For god's sake," I grumbled, scooping her up. I carried her back to the lounge, setting her beside Carlisle. He stirred slightly, shifting to curl up. I caught his hand, guiding it to brush against Fox. "You want this?" I asked.

He hummed quietly, stroking her until she lay down with him. "Yeah." Cute. Asleep again within a few seconds. The painkillers were really knocking him out. It took all of a minute for Fox to settle in his arms.

A fatal flaw in the afternoon was that I couldn't be in the longue or the kitchen without risking waking him up, and creeping around the place was quickly becoming tiring. I'd never been much of a reader - ironic considering how we met - but I found myself sitting on the bed with a book just to pass the time. A stack of novels had been sitting on my bedside table since we moved in, the same ones I'd bought from Carlisle as an excuse to be in the shop, and I chose one at random to read.

I was a few chapters deep when I realised that I couldn't concentrate. My attention was predominantly focused on any sound coming from down the hallway, and I'd completely lost the plot of the story. Sighing, I gave up, knowing I'd have to check on him before I could settle again.

"You can turn the TV on if you want, it's okay," he told me as I hovered in the doorway, more awake than I'd assumed.

"I was just checking on you," I admitted, fighting to keep my face from flushing. It felt like I was doing something wrong, like he'd immediately take offense to it.

He didn't seem to mind it, thankfully. "I'm okay."

"Maybe, but that doesn't stop me worrying." Nervous, I perched on the arm of the couch, my hand on his shoulder as my heart raced. As antsy as I was for more contact with him, I couldn't bring myself to push for it. Not while there was the possibility that he'd reject it.

I didn't need to, though. "Will you sit with me again? For a little while?" The question was cautious, like he thought that I might refuse him.

I nodded, relieved. "Sit up a bit." Once he had, I slid into the seat next to him, guiding him to lie in my lap again. "Are you sure you're doing okay?" Clingy really didn't seem like behaviour from someone who was fine, not after he'd spent the whole week ignoring me and insisting that he didn't need my help. His sudden change in attitude didn't make much sense.

"Yeah. I forgot how much I hated being alone all the time; I can't sleep. It feels like when I was a kid," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the fabric of my pants.

"Carlisle, you've done nothing but sleep since you had the surgery," I teased lightly, my fingers in his hair before I could stop myself. It wasn't as though the painkillers were giving him much of a choice.

"I kept waking up, though, and the nightmares are really bad. I can't think properly, and my head hurts. Please, Garrett."

I frowned, not knowing what he was asking for. "You want me to lie down with you again?"

"Please," he said again.

Surrendering, I shuffled around under him until I was horizontal, keeping my arm around his shoulders to stop him slipping from the couch. It was a little more comfortable, a tangle of limbs and his head against my chest, very reminiscent of how we used to be. I let him calm down and regulate his breathing again before pushing him. "What's going on?"

"We said we were going to try, didn't we?"

"Yes, but you've had an overnight change of heart. I'm not complaining, I'm just confused why you want me all of a sudden," I explained carefully.

Swallowing nervously, he tucked himself more closely against my side, turning his face away. "Being alone while all of this is happening makes me feel like a child again, and it's making me really anxious, and it's not as bad when I'm with someone else," he admitted.

So he was just using me to feel safe. I didn't know how I was supposed to feel about that. Relief wasn't what I expected, but that's what washed over me; I hadn't destroyed our relationship enough that he felt unsafe around me, even if the same trust wasn't there. "Did the doctor tell you something?" I frowned, guessing as to what might have pushed him over the edge and sent him shrinking back into me.

He shook his head. "No, not yet. I'm just worried."

I kissed the top of his head, my hands creeping over his waist under his shirt. "Will you be okay while I'm at work tomorrow?"

"Yeah. As long as you don't see her."

"I won't, Carlisle, come on." It bothered me that we'd spent the whole weekend cuddled up together and he'd still raced to that conclusion.

He grumbled but didn't reply. Still upset. I wondered how long this would take to blow over.