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He was so pale he was almost grey by the time we arrived. He made it without complaint, though. I had half a mind to pick him up as I tried to pull him to his feet and his knees gave out, but I couldn't imagine that going over well. He was too dazed to make sense, standing there numbly as my mother hugged both of us, blank to the conversation and still soaking wet from standing on the porch step in the weather.

"Honey, you're as white as a sheet," mum chided him. She had her arms around him before I could stop her, and I nervously watched his face for any hint of pain in case she knocked him too roughly. "Come and sit down, both of you."

"I have to go to the bathroom," he told her breathlessly, slinking past my father before he could reach out to him. "Sorry."

Both of my parents looked to me in confusion, and I nervously shrugged my shoulders. "He got pretty carsick driving over here," I admitted. Trying not to overthink it, I focused on wringing out my jacket, shedding the water in the doorway before I stepped inside.

"He doesn't usually look that terrible," dad murmured as he shut the door behind me. The wind sucked it shut with a loud bang, making all three of us wince, but it did silence the wind raging outside. I really didn't want to go back out there.

"He's not doing so great health-wise, and I think it was a little much." We made awkward conversation for a few minutes, until Carlisle made a shaky reappearance, sweating bullets and jittery. I slipped my arm behind him, tightening my fingers around his shirt, preparing for him to fall as his knees weakened. "You alright?" I whispered quickly. It was dumb; I already knew the answer.

"No," he whispered back. His head was suddenly against my shoulder as he struggled to stay upright. "Help. Please."

"Can he lie down upstairs for a while?" I asked my parents, a little frantic. I knew I was going to have to explain everything to them later, but it didn't matter then so long as he didn't hit the ground. It still felt invasive while I was holding him so closely.

Dad held mum's wrist when she stepped forward to fuss, seeming to know how uncomfortable Carlisle would get. "Of course; you know where everything is, Garrett."

I forced a smile and started to guide him up the stairs toward my old bedroom, my hands around his waist as I made him walk in front of me. The relief on his face once he could sit down made my heart hurt, and I carefully settled next to him. Our backpack was still over my shoulder, and I dumped it on the floor to rifle through the contents. "Do you want to get changed? Your clothes are wet." Even if we'd only been in the rain for a few minutes, we were both soaked.

"Yeah, maybe," he mumbled noncommittally.

"What's happening?" I couldn't gage what was upsetting him most. He just looked unsettled. "Carlisle?"

He hesitated, picking at his fingers as they trembled. "Everything is really aching, and I think I'm going to throw up- I'm freaking out, Garrett; I don't feel well, and I should have stayed home."

"It's not safe for you to be home, we established that," I murmured. "You had to come. I would have stayed home with you if my parents didn't need us."

"I know, but I feel like such a pain in the ass." He let his head fall, either out of dizziness or to avoid me.

"You're not, baby, come on...Do you want me to stay with you for a while?" There was no way I wanted to leave, while he was awkwardly perched on the edge of the bed, lips white as his hands shook, but I couldn't refuse him privacy either.

"Please. I feel like I'm going to faint." His words were more of a groan, and he leaned forward on his knees, frustrated.

Sighing, I crouched down. I softly kissed his forehead, rubbing his shoulders as he cringed a little. "Let me help you? You're already shivering."

He reluctantly complied, too exhausted to be bothered arguing with me over it. "I'm so tired, Gar, will your parents be upset with me if I sleep for a little while?" It took far more effort than it should have for him to struggle out of the wet clothing and into what I'd handed him, and I shoved my hands into my pockets to avoid crossing the line and touching him.

"No, of course not. Sleep, if that's what's going to make you feel better." I smoothed his shirt down as he hugged me, resting my chin on the top of his head. His affection was confusing, but I wasn't about to refuse it. "Lie down; you look like crap. I've got to go and help dad, but I'll tell my mother to leave you alone."

"Thanks, Garrett," he mumbled into me. "Thanks for looking after me."

"Get some rest."

.

.

Battering down the property took a few hours longer than I expected. It was getting dark by the time we'd finished, despite it only being midafternoon, and the rain was only getting harder. I'd sent my father back inside halfway through, not wanting him out in it, and I was frozen by the time it was finally done. I rushed upstairs to have a quick shower and then ducked back into the bedroom to wake Carlisle up. Mum had already said he'd been sick while I was out.

"Carlisle, we've got to get going," I murmured to him as I buttoned up a clean shirt, pleased to be warm again. "The weather is really packing up; I think we'd better get some extra supplies on the way home."

"Okay," he mumbled back. He was quiet for a moment as I got dressed, watching me closely enough that my neck felt warm. "Gar, I really don't feel well."

"Mum said you'd thrown up again," I frowned. "Are you going to be okay in the car?"

"I don't think so," he admitted. "I'm going to pass out if I get up."

I repressed a groan, not wanting him to think I was frustrated with him. Instead, I crouched down so we were level, rubbing his hand, thinking quickly. The worst of the storm wasn't hitting for another day, and I couldn't make him sit in the car for that long if he wasn't doing well. "What if we stay here tonight? You can get some more sleep, and maybe you won't be quite so dizzy in the morning."

"We're going to get stuck in the storm," he whispered. "We can't do that."

"That's a risk I'm willing to take. I'll talk to my parents; we can leave before breakfast tomorrow, and we should be okay. I can't take you in the car like this." My hand drifted to press against his forehead, confusingly not finding a fever. "How is your stomach?"

"I'm bleeding - not a lot, please don't panic," he added, seeing my face. "I have a stomach ulcer and my blood doesn't clot properly; the doctor told me it would happen."

"Is it painful?"

"Not really, just uncomfortable."

"I'm really worried about you."

"I'm not going to bleed out again." He tried to smile, but it wouldn't stick while he wasn't himself. "It's alright, Garrett, it just gives me a stomach ache."

Sighing, I carefully perched next to him on the bed. "Let's stay, Carlisle. You look like crap, and if you feel just as bad it's not fair that you have to travel." As he started to sit up, I gently pushed him back down onto the bed, tucking the blankets over him again. "I'm serious, if you feel like you're going to faint, don't move."

He looked unconvinced for a moment, but didn't have the energy to fight me over it. "Are you sure?" he asked after a long pause. "Because I can suck it up, and we can go home tonight."

"Yeah I'm sure. Go back to sleep; I'll go talk to mum." With a sinking dread, I realised something else - I was going to have to tell them. I couldn't force Carlisle into sharing a bed with me while he was still so unsure about our relationship, and they'd want to know why I was sleeping on the couch.

He seemed to realise at the same time I had and grabbed my wrist. "You don't have to say anything."

"I do, Carlisle. They're going to find out either way," I reminded him.

"Not if we just sleep together," he mumbled. "It's only one night, and it's not like we have to touch." He was obviously trying to rationalise it himself, but it wasn't working judging by the way he chewed his lip.

I shook my head. "Not if it's going to make you feel weird. I'll just deal with it; it's my fault anyway."

"It's just one night," he repeated. "Let's not tell them; they'll only get upset."

"They're not going to be angry at you, if that's what you're so worried about," I assured him.

"Still. Please just come to bed tonight. It won't be that bad." He was making it sound like it was a punishment, though he did attempt to smile like it wasn't a big deal.

"If you're sure," I agreed quietly. "Let me know if you change your mind."

.

.

I let him sleep on his own until I could barely keep my eyes open. Mum had told me that he'd been up while I'd been outside, and I guessed it was best to leave him to his own devices as much as I could before he was stuck sharing a room with me.

I stumbled around the room in the dark, stripping off my wet clothing before accidently knocking into the bed hard enough to wake him up. "Sorry," I whispered, slipping under the sheets.

"It's okay, I was awake anyway," he mumbled. He shuffled across the bed so that I could lie beside him and keep the space between us, cocooning himself in the blankets again. I'd stolen extra covers from the cupboard in the hall in an attempt to give us both our own blankets, but the mattress didn't allow us that much space.

"Are you sure you're still okay with this? It's not too late for me to sleep on the couch." I was lying on the edge of bed, as was he, but the warmth of his body still soaked into mine. Comforting.

"Stay." Always trying to protect me.

It was awkward, to say the least. It wasn't like we hadn't seen each other naked before, but lying next to him in my underwear felt weird now. He'd stripped off his sweatshirt and pants, but kept his shirt on, still trying to hide his wounds from me. It was beyond uncomfortable.

I felt him shift and turned my head to face him. It was obvious he wasn't comfortable either. "You okay?" I asked, just for something to say.

He glanced at me through the darkness. "I'm freezing," he admitted. It wasn't a lie - his arms were wrapped around himself in an attempt not to steal all the sheets from me, but he was shivery anyway.

My frown deepened. "I'll get another blanket from the cupboard-" I'd started to get up, throwing my legs out of bed, but a hand on my bare thigh stopped me.

"Gar, it's not going to make a difference," he told me, his face suddenly burning despite his temperature.

A wave of heat flushed through my cheeks. "And you're going to pass out if you have a hot shower, huh?" I checked. My heart was racing, pushing the warmth around my body as I realised what he needed, what he didn't want to ask me. I tucked myself back into bed, pulling my pillows closer to his. He looked like he was about to cry, or maybe vomit, biting his lip. "I won't touch you more than I have to," I promised. "But if it makes it easier for you to sleep, then…"

"The pain is worse when I'm cold," he admitted shakily. "And-"

I didn't want him to try and justify it, shaking my head at him. "Forget about it and come here." Careful, I slipped my arm under him, letting him roll into my side, my palm running the length of his spine as he tucked himself against me. It hadn't been a lie; he was rather cold, his hands freezing as they brushed my abdomen and his body cool all over. "Think you can sleep?"

He nodded. "Thank you," he murmured into me.

"Anything, Carlisle." All of this was dangerous territory, to have him cuddled into me so close, but I couldn't refuse him and leave him to shiver himself apart. I tried to kid myself that this was all because he needed it. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah," he whispered into the darkness.

"Kate has this recital at school, and she asked me if we would go. Both of us," I explained quickly. "And I know it's a lot to ask of you right now, but-"

"I'll go, Garrett," he interrupted, turning his face into my chest.

"Are you sure?" I pressed. My fingertips crept over his waist, closing around his sides.

"Yes."

"Fuck, I love you," I groaned.

.

.

I was in heaven when I woke up. He'd moulded himself around me, completely relaxed with his head on my shoulder, his breath brushing over my chest with each exhale. I dared to reach up and touch his face, my fingers trailing over his temple as I brushed his hair off of his forehead. Mum knocked on the door lightly, calling out to us, the sound disturbing him enough to make him duck his head against my neck. "Are you two coming down for breakfast?" she asked through the door. "It's 6am; you wanted to get away early, Garrett?"

"Uh, maybe in a bit," I called back. My arm tightened around him as he shifted, and I leaned my chin on the top of his head. "How are you feeling?" I asked carefully.

"Okay," he told me softly.

"You sure about that?" I wasn't convinced he knew who he was cuddled up to, or where we were.

"Yeah, just tired." He lifted his head a little, instantly having regrets and putting it back down. "As long as I don't move."

"We need to go home today; you're going to have to move," I reminded him.

He groaned quietly, the tension returning to his shoulders. "I know. I don't want to throw up in the car, Garrett."

"We can take lots of little breaks." I ran my fingers through his hair, my fingertips teasing his scalp.

"It's pouring with rain; we can't do that," he mumbled.

"Well, we can stop at every service station down the highway if it'll settle your stomach." I risked kissing the top of his head, gently squeezing him under the blankets. "There's bound to be shelter there."

"I should have stayed home."

"We'll manage, Carlisle. Even if you get sick while I'm driving, it won't be the end of the world, will it? It'll pass once we get home. Did the doctor say anything about why you're getting so nauseous? You never used to get this carsick."

"I don't know; I'm nauseous all the time, being in the car just makes it unbearable." We were quiet for a bit, his arm tightening over my waist. "Can we lie here a while longer?"

"Yeah, as long as you need to." Rubbing his arm under the covers, I kissed his forehead, my lips trailing kisses to his throat - until he pulled back.

"Garrett."

"Sorry. Just cuddles, then, huh?" I mumbled, trying not to make it a complaint.

"I need you to be slow, Gar," he murmured. "Please."

Carmen's words resounded in my head. "Okay."

"Okay?" he sounded surprised, lifting his head again to glance up at my face.

Sadness rushed through me. "Yeah; of course 'okay'," I frowned. "I'm not going to force you into anything. We can go as slow as you need to. Just tell me what you need."

"...just need to go back to sleep right now…"

I leaned back into the pillows. "Then do it. I'll wake you up in a bit, and maybe you'll sleep in the car." Lying there with him was far too wonderful for me to force him out of bed any time soon.

"You said you wanted to be back early, though." He looked up again, folding his arm under his chin. Still, he slipped his leg between mine to shuffle closer, somewhat trapping me there.

I couldn't be mad at him. "Doesn't matter; it's still going to be raining no matter what time we leave." My hand drifted to rest on his hips, tracing where the waist of his underwear met his skin. It seemed to sooth him if nothing else.

.

.

I lay in bed with him until my arm was dead asleep from his weight on it, my hand long past tingling, before finally deciding I had to get up. "Stay there; I'm going to help mum cook breakfast," I told him softly, slipping out from underneath him. He did fidget a little, calmed once I rubbed his hand. He was asleep again as soon as I'd tucked the blankets around him.

"How's your boyfriend?" Dad asked as I hit the bottom step of the staircase. He was hovering like he'd been waiting for one of us, and it caught me a little off guard.

"Uh, doing a little better this morning, I think. He's still not feeling good, though," I admitted. "I'm not entirely sure how he's going to get home." I rubbed at my face, digging my knuckles into my eyes.

"Poor kid. He looks like he needs to see a doctor; he doesn't look well, Garrett." He patted my shoulder, sighing as he passed me.

"He has, dad, they're not sure what's wrong with him." I didn't really want to discuss it with him, without Carlisle's permission. "I don't think-"

"You two are coming over for christmas this year, right? You'll bring Carlisle?"

"Yeah, dad, I'll talk to him about it. I don't know what we're doing." I couldn't look at him. We hadn't spoken about that yet, and I doubted someone who hated christmas as much as he did, wasn't well, and was going through a break up, would want to go to a family christmas party with his sort-of-ex-boyfriend.

"Good. He's a great guy, Garrett, you two are lucky to have each other."

"I don't know what I'd do without him." My voice almost broke, and I struggled to swallow the lump in my throat. Fuck. "I better go and help mum in the kitchen," I mumbled, sidestepping him to escape into the other room.

She already had food in the pan, smiling at me when I came in. "Good morning, love."

"Morning, mum." I leaned down to kiss her cheek. "Thanks for letting us stay last night."

She was quiet for a few moments, watching the eggs fry. "You never told me he'd had a surgery, Garrett. It's no wonder he feels terrible."

"It was almost a month ago," I mumbled. "He's been diagnosed with a bleeding disorder, and he's still pretty cut up about it, and he's got some other stuff going on, and-" I fidgeted with my hands in my pockets until she interrupted me, guilt making a knot in my gut.

"I know, Carmen spoke to me," she grumbled back.

My heart skipped and I almost choked. "What'd she say?"

She rolled her eyes, sensing my panic. "That he really wasn't well, and you needed to be gentle with him."

"He's not a child," I reminded her.

"No, but by the sound of it, he is quite ill. Dragging him out here wasn't the best idea, was it?"

"I didn't realise he was going to have the trip from hell; it's not usually so hard on him." It wasn't like I didn't regret it. I already hated myself for bringing him, even more so for agreeing in the first place and not convincing Eleazar to come instead - it wasn't like he didn't want an escape from the kids from time to time, and it had been awhile since mum and dad had seen their grandkids. "He wasn't too bad when we left."

"Are you taking care of him while he's not well?" SHe said it like it was an accusation that I wasn't, and I tried not to be annoyed with Carmen. "He's got no family here, love, and you two are engaged."

"I know, mum; I'm trying. Things are complicated," I mumbled, not raising my eyes from the stove.

My father had come to sit at the table, lured in by the smell of bacon cooking, and we both turned at the sound of another chair being pulled on the tiles. Her face lit up as she saw my boyfriend had come to join us as well, and I couldn't help a small smile when my eyes met his. "Do you want eggs, Carlisle?" Mum asked, already holding another plate and clearly not about to take 'no' for an answer despite the fact he still looked a little green.

Sleepy, he scrubbed his face, struggling to find a polite way to refuse her. "No, thanks, Mrs Parker," he mumbled eventually. The formal use of her name seemed to jar her, her spine stiffening. He didn't notice his slip, going to sit next to dad at the table, an excuse to be off of his feet.

She still couldn't leave him empty handed; it took her all of a few minutes to make him a cup of tea I was sure he wouldn't touch.

I took my place at the table next to him, barely repressing a grin when he leaned his head on my shoulder - he might not have been able to hide that he was ill, but he was doing well at pretending that we were normal. Or maybe it wasn't pretending, and he actually wanted me. "Think you're going to be okay in the car?" I whispered.

He shook his head. "No. I just want to go back to sleep, though."

My mother was frowning at us. "I can give you a tablet for the nausea, but it'll probably make you even more tired, honey. Have you been this bad at home?"

I frowned at her, willing her to be quiet about it. "More rest wouldn't do you any harm?" I whispered, my lips moving against his forehead.

"Sleeping in the car wouldn't be so bad," he agreed eventually. My hand landed on his thigh, squeezing as he sighed quietly. "Thanks."

"It's okay, love."

.

.

We ate breakfast as a family. My mother force-fed me more bacon and eggs than any person needed, somehow getting two cups of tea down Carlisle's throat before we left. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders as we hurried back to the car, holding him steady as much as I was ushering him forward. Fumbling to unlock the vehicle through the sheets of rain, we were both soaked again. "Holy shit," he breathed as we slammed our doors. "What the hell is this weather?"

I chuckled, brushing the drops of water out of my hair and off my face. "We were warned." Seeing him shivering and unable to stand it, I struggled out of my jacket from the driver's seat, reaching over the drape it over his knees. "Are you still tired?"

He smiled in thanks, pulling the fabric up to curl his arms under it, covering his shoulders. "A little."

"Think you can sleep?" My hand drifted to brush his hair off of his face, not really satisfying my need to touch him.

"Yeah. Sorry about all this." He caught my fingers, squeezing before lacing our hands together, letting my arm rest across his lap. "I know you wanted to come back yesterday."

"I know you're not well. Are you still feeling sick?"

"Not so bad. I've had far too much tea, though, thanks to your mother." Again, he managed to smile a little.

"It won't do you any harm," I laughed. Thinking for a moment, I reached over into the backseat, fumbling around until I found what I was looking for - a container I'd used as a makeshift lunch box on one of my many trips out with Kate. "Here." I dropped it into his lap as I finally started the car.

"What's this for?" he frowned, catching hold of it anyway.

"In case you get sick, and I can't stop in time." It made him blush so hard I was surprised he had any blood left in his body. I sighed, reaching over to brush my thumb across his cheek. "It's nothing I haven't dealt with before, baby; I just don't want you to have to get changed when we get home while you're exhausted," I explained. "But tell me if you think you going to be sick, and I'll stop as soon as I can."

He cursed quietly under his breath, disheartened by my lack of faith in him, but did nod and agree. "Please don't get upset with me," he pleaded softly.

"For needing to pull over? I promise I won't, Carlisle." He really did think I was a monster. "Try and sleep."

.

.

He did sleep. He slept the entire way back. I kept the radio off, trying not to hit any potholes that would jar him awake. He stirred as we pulled into the parking lot and I hit a speed bump badly. "Hey," I murmured, reaching over to nudge him. "We're home." The sky was brooding, midnight-black swirling above the rain. We were lucky to get home when we did.

Sleepily rubbing his face, he glanced out the window, confused. The weather didn't seem to register. "Oh."

"Feel better?" I smiled.

He looked a little better. More colour in his face. "Yeah, kind of."

"You're looking a bit more alive," I teased. "Are you able to walk inside? You were pretty unsteady there for a while." I was a little suspicious that the tablet mum had given him would have made him more lightheaded, but he didn't seem to be faring too badly, aside from a little disorientation.

"I think so. No more hospitals," he groaned at me.

"That wasn't what I was thinking, Carlisle." The wind was howling as soon as we were outside, whipping the heat from our bodies and attempting to knock us from our feet. I instinctively grabbed his arm, dragging him after me and into the shelter of our apartment building. The water dripped from our clothing as we stood in the elevator together, Carlisle clenching his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering as I rubbed my hands together to thaw my fingers. He was starting to look queasy again, the fast movement not serving him well at all.

"Are you oka-"

"Don't ask," he interrupted quickly. "Please."

I nodded once. We made it into the hallway outside of our apartment before the lights dimmed with a low hum, the generator kicking in. Yellow emergency lighting illuminated the walls, giving everything an eerie glow and making getting the key in the lock that much harder, the city outside plunged into a thick darkness. Our home was black, the only light coming from the phone that my partner was now clutching like a lifeline as he finally realised what was happening. Annoyed, I turned to comment on our lack of power over my shoulder as I futilely flipped the lightswitch a few times, only to catch the look on his face. "Don't hate me for asking, but seriously, Carlisle; are you okay?"

Eyes wide, he forced himself to nod. "U-um, it's midday."

"Yeah," I agreed slowly.

"It's dark, Garrett." His voice was hollow, frightened.

"We've got a storm warning; we knew this would be bad," I reminded him. Vaguely, I realised he'd never been through a severe storm here, and on top of his anxious state, now wasn't a good time for his first. "We've fine, Carlisle."

The wind pushed the building, the walls groaning as they were forced to flex, and he swallowed whatever he wanted to say to me. Instead he stumbled inside, collecting Fox from the ground but unable to hide his frantic breathing.

"We're okay," I repeated. I waited for him to choose to settle somewhere before taking my seat next to him on the couch. "Really, baby."

He shook his head, pushing his temples between his knees. "I'm gonna pass out."

"No, you're not," I soothed. I didn't doubt him, sliding forward to hold his shoulder as he started to panic, having to forcefully pry the cat out of his arms so he didn't accidentally hurt her when he fell. "Breathe; you don't need to have a panic attack about the weather," I murmured lowly. I took a few deep breaths, hoping he might mimic me, but the air was shaky when he released it from his lungs. "I know you're going through a lot, but the storm is the least of your problems."

Trying to calm down, his chest heaved until he suddenly dissolved, crying to me yet again about me not loving him, about feeling sick and tired and Caius and god knows what else. Always circling back to 'you don't love me'. As if nothing I did meant anything to him.

We were in for a long fucking night.