Carlisle POV
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They both freaked out the first time I spiked a fever. Garrett had felt it as he hugged me goodbye, immediately making himself late for work by arming himself with the thermometer and blood pressure cuff, Alistair suddenly awake enough to abandon his iced coffee and hover. It wasn't even six AM. "I'm fine; you both worry too much," I protested. All of the readings were normal, bar a slightly elevated temperature.
"Your immune system is terrible, Carlisle, we have to be careful that you don't catch anything," Gar murmured. "You're really feeling alright?" He'd dropped his bag to the floor to free his hands, fumbling with the keys as he unlocked the forbidden cupboard. It didn't seem like I had room to protest when he passed me a sheet of tylenol.
I nodded obediently and popped two of the tablets from the foil - it wasn't a lie. "I promise."
His eyes shifted to Al. "Make sure he has breakfast?"
He nodded.
I rolled my eyes.
Garrett tapped the screen of my watch to check my pulse for the fourth time in fifteen minutes.
Alistair waited until the door had closed before turning back to me, blowing out a long sigh. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"Just fine," I promised. "Breakfast?" The meal was looming over me and I just needed it over and done with. I was hungry, though, the hollow gnawing in my abdomen starting to bother me now that the water had touched my stomach. I hadn't felt that in weeks. His fingers caught the back of my sweatshirt as I turned toward the kitchen, jerking me back.
"I'm making it - I don't care if you think you're alright," he said sternly. Not taking 'no' for an answer, he pulled a chair out at the table and nudged me back into it, his hands on my shoulders once I was sitting in front of him.
"I'm not going to faint, Alistair," I complained. Not yet, anyway. I was pretty sure I could remain upright long enough to get a couple of pieces of toast into the toaster.
"I'm not taking the risk," he grumbled back. He followed my line of sight to the loaf of bread on the countertop, taking a sip of his coffee before leaving the half-finished drink on the table with me.
I obliged him once it was clear that he wasn't going to back down. We didn't talk much as we waited for the appliance to heat, listening to the weather roar outside. "I wish Gar didn't have to go out in that; it's cold, and he's tired this morning," I said eventually. My fingertips caught on the grain of the table as I fidgeted, waited for him to scold me for being clingy. "I think he's keeping himself up at night. So I'm not, uh, you know, unsupervised. I wish he would sleep."
Again, he was quiet for an uncomfortably long time. "Do you think he'd sleep if I stayed overnight? I can sit up with you; I don't have to work the next day."
"It's going to be more exhausting if you two argue the entire time," I reminded him.
"I'll be on my best behaviour."
"Al."
"I promise."
"No picking at him."
"I'll be on my best behaviour, Carlisle." The toaster popped and he pulled the bread out, grabbing the spread from the fridge. "Do you want-"
"Just the toast, please," I interrupted before he could get near it with the butter.
"You're sure?" he asked skeptically. He still passed me the plate, pouring water from the kettle over a teabag. It wasn't until he sat across from me that I saw he'd settled for the same dry meal that I was having.
"You don't have to have that, Al, we have-"
He took a bite of the bread anyway. "I'm not having you abandon breakfast because of something I'm eating."
"I'm not that sensitive," I protested, the roll of his eyes enough for me to know that he knew better. My face got hot, worse when he reached over to pat my hand.
"It's just toast; not a big deal," he insisted. He was being uncharacteristically nice this morning. I wasn't sure I trusted it. "You're getting better with food," he told me through a mouthful.
"I'm trying," I mumbled for lack of a better term. His observation pushed more unwelcome heat into my cheeks and I suddenly couldn't look at him. "I want to get better."
"You are, Carlisle; you couldn't stomach anything before. Garrett said you've been able to have dinner the last few nights - that's huge."
"Yeah, but…only if it's really bland, and he has to keep making special meals for me." The portions I managed were frustratingly tiny, and it didn't lessen the guilt of my boyfriend having to make separate meals for me. He insisted that it was fine, that he didn't mind, but it felt awful all the same.
"It's still an improvement."
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The pills were churning in my stomach. I'd never reacted to tylenol before. I'd taken it regularly over the last few months, and it had never made my abdomen cramp like it did now. Tiptoeing around the apartment to avoid waking Alistair, I searched for the sheet I'd put down. It was gone from the tabletop, presumably locked back in the damn cupboard again, though I hadn't noticed Garrett take it. Not that I could do any damage with five whole pills, for god's sake.
I tried to settle again, to ignore it, to not alarm Al with it while he sat sprawled out in the armchair, his hands tucked under his arms to fight the cold. It really was fucking freezing - the blanket I threw over him was too thin to do much good. The pain in my middle gripped a little tighter. I sat at the table and pushed it away.
My laptop took forever to load. Even longer to log into my emails. Longer again to open the installed editing software. The elapsed time had made my stomach flutter, nerves not agreeing with the toast - I was so monumentally behind that I'd never catch up. There was no way I could avoid losing clients, dropping income, being removed from projects to be replaced by someone more capable.
The blue light from the screen only harshened as time went on. Even dimmed, it produced a heavy throb in my forehead. Alistair had woken up at nine, keeping watch from his seat, half-focused on his phone as an excuse to keep from blatantly staring.
"You need to drink some water," he murmured after another hour had passed.
That was rich; the coffee he'd walked in with certainly didn't count as hydration. "So do you," I shot back.
He grinned at me. "I'll drink if you do."
I rolled my eyes as I snatched the drink bottle Garrett had conveniently left on the tabletop next to me - it wouldn't have shocked me if my boyfriend had texted him as a reminder to prompt me. The swallow sent a jolt through me, a zap of pain up my spine. This really wasn't normal. I scanned the kitchen from where I was sitting in search of the packet again, positive that I'd taken something else by mistake, that neither Garrett nor I had checked the label before I downed it. It was definitely back in the cupboard though. "The pills from before, I don't think they were tylenol."
He looked at me over the top of his phone, confused. "Yeah it was; I saw the box it came from."
"I don't think it was, though."
"I watched you swallow it."
"I took something, but I-I don't think it was tylenol. I think it was in the wrong container." My anxiety was getting the better of me, my heart starting to drum erratically.
Sighing heavily, he forced himself to sit up a little straighter, planting his feet on the ground. "Garrett would have noticed that he was handing you the wrong thing; he's paranoid - there's no way he didn't check it. There's no way you didn't check it," he reasoned. "Do you want me to call your boyfriend?"
I tried to stem the flood of adrenaline that hit me, the urgent need to cry. "But before it was put in the box. Something in the tablets isn't right, even if they looked the same."
Now he was incredulous. "You think someone tampered with your store bought medication during manufacturing? Carlisle, you've just eaten and you're running a fever; I doubt it's the tylenol giving you a tummy ache."
I swallowed, fidgeted a bit. He thought I was crazy. Was going to tell Garrett that I was crazy. Gar would send me back to the hospital the second he caught wind of it. "Okay."
"You're alright?" he checked again.
"Yep."
He didn't trust it. "This started at the hospital, yeah? You freaking out about the pills?"
"I guess." I wasn't going to be able to talk to him without a meltdown, trying to breathe through the ache in my chest. The shakes were setting in again - Caius would get away with it if no one would believe me. He could murder me and it'd be blamed on the raft of medical conditions I'd been left with. "Al, he wants to kill me - Caius, I mean." My pulse shot up enough for the watch to vibrate around my wrist, my phone chiming and both of us looking to it. "You don't believe me."
He took a deep breath before answering me. "I believe that you believe that," he said carefully. "And I believe that you're scared."
"But you don't believe that it's happening. Please, Al, I'm not crazy."
"I don't think you're crazy; I think you're stressed," he corrected gently. "And I think we need to talk to Garrett about this when he gets home."
Unable to do much else, I just nodded. The room was spinning, my ears ringing.
"Do you need to lie down?"
"I need to work." I'd never be able to; the cramps were too bad for me to think about anything else. I'd had to move my hands from the laptop to grip the edges of the table, digging my fingertips into the wood to regulate the waves of discomfort in my middle. I needed him to help me. Believe me.
"Sure, but it doesn't look like you're getting much done while you're doubled over like that," he chided.
The lump in my throat was back, and I tried to remember when I'd become such an emotional idiot - it hadn't always been like this. "I'm going to lose my job. We're going to lose the apartment. And that wasn't tylenol - it hurts." Swallowing, I managed to keep my voice from wobbling too much.
"I'll help you to catch up tonight; right now, you look like shit and you need to take care of yourself." He'd hopefully turned on the TV, stretching out in the chair as he prepared to convince me to sit with him, to fall into the trap of craving his body heat and wanting his arms around me.
"Alistair," I pleaded. I refused to look at him anymore out of hope he'd give it up. Instead, I forced one hand back to the mouse, quickly scrolling through the endless amount of unopened emails in my inbox. So many deadlines, all far too close; even if I'd been well, I wouldn't have been able to manage all of it. Especially not when I was forced back to bed every couple of hours.
My best friend had spoken to me again but I hadn't heard him over the high pitched whine in my ears. The chair creaked as he levered himself out of it, his socks muffling his footsteps as he approached me. "Will you take some more pain relief?" he offered once he was beside me.
"Not while I don't know what it is," I whined to him. I couldn't anyway; anything stronger made sleep inevitable. I really couldn't afford that.
He groaned, frustration evident in his expression when I risked a glance at his face. "I hate to break it to you, Carlisle, but Caius doesn't give enough of a shit about you to fuck with your tablets."
I had to swallow back the lump in my throat. "I can't. It'll make me tired anyway."
"You're already tired," he pointed out. "Just take it and have a nap. I'll wake you up in a couple of hours."
It was tempting. The pain was making me squirm, and I was already so exhausted it made my bones ache. "Promise?"
"Promise what?" he huffed.
"To wake me up. Gar never does." My boyfriend was notorious for that, for assuring me he'd wake me in an hour but leaving me until I awoke on my own.
"Yeah, whatever. If that's what you want."
"Okay."
"Do you need to watch me get it out of the cupboard?"
"It doesn't help if it happened before they were packaged," I reminded him.
He muttered to himself under his breath as he got up to unlock the door, fumbling through the packets until he found the right thing and bringing the bottle to show me. "Codeine." Unscrewing the lid, he peered inside before tipping two into his hand. "Says codeine, looks like codeine, probably codeine, right?"
"Al."
"Please just take it; I can't stand watching you so uncomfortable," he sighed. His eyes didn't leave my face until I'd swallowed them with a mouthful of water. "Sit with me?"
"So you can make fun of me some more?" I complained.
The returning eye roll was practically audible. "You really want to stay in that chair until the pills kick in? I don't want to watch shitty daytime TV by myself anymore - sit with me."
"Promise you're going to wake me up?" It was tempting to give in to him. He'd be warm, and I knew he'd put his arm around me if I sat close enough. Gar would hate it, though. And I'd hate myself for it.
"I already have. Set an alarm, if you're that paranoid." Done with me, he dropped himself onto one of the couch cushions and slouched back, the screen of the television lighting the room as he switched it on. A few silent minutes passed before he couldn't help himself. "I'll let you choose the gameshow?"
My attempt to hold back a laugh failed miserably.
He stretched his hand over the back of the couch in my general direction, beckoning me. "Come here; we both know you're a slut for a cuddle, Carlisle, stop playing hard to get. We can hijack my mother's Netflix account."
"I'm pretty sure you're the one trying to coerce me," I teased. It was quite clear I wasn't about to be able to concentrate. It had only been twenty minutes, and my head was already a little fuzzy from the medication, and Al wasn't about to give it up.
He was grinning as I approached, shockingly managing to keep his hands to himself while I settled next to him. "Am I allowed to touch you, or do you want to freak out about Garrett hating me a little more?" His arm had snuck over the backrest before he'd even gotten the sentence out.
"Don't be weird," I grumbled. Still, I let him guide me into his side, resting my cheek on his shoulder when he slouched down a little further. I watched the screen as he flicked through the channels, the tension fading from my body as he traced circles against my bicep, suddenly irresistibly tired. "Hey, Al?"
"It's a little late to start complaining, babe," he mumbled.
"No, um, thank you. For coming, and for staying - I know I'm ridiculous." I pulled my legs up under myself, slipping my arm around his middle to lean into him. The familiarity was comforting, if nothing else.
"Of course I came, idiot, you're my best friend." That hung semi-awkwardly in the air as he started to fidget with my clothing again, until sleep was so hard to resist that it was painful. "And Carlisle?"
"Mmm." I scrambled to form words, giving up as his hand moved to my hair.
"You are ridiculous, by the way." Always the charmer.
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He kept his promise. Two hours later, he gently shook my shoulder, rendering me conscious again. He made both of us lunch while I tried to get my foggy brain to focus again, giving gentle reminders to pick at the fruit if I abandoned it for too long. I wasn't entirely sure how he'd talked me into sitting with him again, the weight of the computer balanced on his thigh instead of my own, the arm back around my shoulders to suck me into his side again. It was a little much by the time he'd dragged a blanket across my lap and encouraged the cat to sit with us.
"Alistair."
"I'll keep you awake," he assured me for what seemed to be the millionth time. "Are you still feeling alright?"
I nodded, letting my hand drift from the keyboard to my middle. The discomfort had subsided - our meal would stay down. "Just don't let me sleep. Please."
"I won't," he promised again.
He needn't have worried. The front door flew open less than an hour later, my boyfriend slamming it shut behind him. If his dramatic entrance hadn't been enough, I'd never seen the man so beet red. The tension in his shoulders seemed to relax slightly as his eyes frantically scanned for mine, but the colour never left his face.
"Are you okay? What happened?" My laptop fell into Alistair's lap as I abruptly stood. I made it to Garrett's side before the wave of dizziness hit me, stars in my vision as I felt his hands on my waist.
His shallow gasps for breath started to regulate while he held me. "You're alright?" he checked softly. "She hasn't contacted you?" Before I could answer, his fingers brushed my jaw, guiding my lips to his.
It took a moment to grasp what he meant. I shook my head. "Heidi? No."
Garrett blew out a tight breath, pressing his forehead to my shoulder. "Thank god."
"What did she do?" My fingertips trailed over his chest, over the sodden fabric of his jacket. Despite having only run up from the car, he was wet through from the rain, his undershirt damp as I tugged down the zipper over his chest. My question brought on another flush of pink, his gaze wandering to Alistair before darting back to me. "You should get changed," I whispered to him. "Do you need…help?"
He nodded shakily. My fingers locked around his, I led him down the hallway, barely having time to shut the bedroom door behind us before he blurted it out. "She posted the photos to Eleazar and my parents, and I had to explain everything to mom and dad because they noticed that it - obviously - wasn't you that I was with, and I can't believe- God, I can't believe they've seen that and I don't know how to face them. They were so upset with me a-and-" The rest of the sentence choked in his throat.
"Posted? Like in the mail?" The room was still spinning as I sat on the side of the bed, digging my elbows into my knees to keep my balance.
He nodded. Blowing out a tight breath, he glanced away, starting to strip off his clothing while he avoided looking at me again.
"Garrett, we've got to make a police report; she's nuts."
"I really don't want to have to keep explaining this to people," he mumbled. "It was embarrassing enough that I had to speak to Kate's principal, and I don't think the police will take me seriously anyway."
"She's escalating; we need to do something." I watched him as he dug through the closet for a clean change of clothes, still not answering me while his back was turned. "You need to call the police," I tried again.
"Fine," he grumbled back. His voice was caught in the fabric of his t-shirt as he pulled it over his head. "But I don't know what good it will do."
I didn't reply, sure we were heading for an argument if I pushed him any further. "You okay?" I asked once I was confident he wouldn't snap at me.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good," he sighed. "This just sucks. I'm never going to be able to look my father in the eye again."
"I guess that…they know that we were separated, huh."
"They assumed that, Carlisle. I don't think they entirely believe that you're still with me." With another tired sigh, he sat next to me on the bed, his arms snaking around my waist. My hands ran over his shoulders as he drew me in. "I don't believe it either, sometimes."
"I need you," I mumbled.
"I know, but you don't have to be my partner for me to stay; we can just be friends," he said awkwardly, his spine stiffening as he suggested it.
"I don't want to just be friends." God knows, even if we tried it, I'd end up back with him again anyway. We'd spent far too long together as a couple after Heidi had ruined things for me to suddenly make that call now. It didn't help that I loved him, either.
He chuckled once at my grumble, kissing my temple. "Alright." The heat was finally starting to fade from his face. "How are you feeling?"
"My stomach hurts a little, but I had lunch." A nervous sweat broke out as I realised I needed to get Alistair out of the house, away before he had time to get Garrett alone and tell him that I'd lost it. A knot formed in the pit of my stomach. "Are you staying home for the day now?"
"Yeah, I-I couldn't stay there after that." He swallowed audibly, his arms tightening around me. "And I needed to make sure she hadn't come here to bother you."
"Please will you report her tonight?" I elbowed him lightly as he got too comfortable, not prepared for him to push the subject back under the rug. That psycho would end up taking one of us hostage before he did anything - maybe it was her screwing with my medication. "I will if you don't."
He huffed but nodded. "Don't tell Alistair about all of this."
"I won't." He'd kill him if I did - Al would lose his shit.
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Saturday morning was almost perfect. Garrett wasn't working, and lay in bed with me well into the morning, only getting up to make us both warm drinks and some breakfast. Alistair had never said anything to him. I kept them from being alone together as much as I could, but as far as I could tell, he'd never mentioned anything. I dodged as much medication as I could, and finally managed to make a dent in my endless list of tasks, my fever not coming to anything either.
It didn't take away my anxiety. I didn't know how to tell Garrett. How to get him to believe me. And he'd been so patient - I didn't think I'd get that allowance a second time when he found I wasn't taking what I'd been prescribed. I hadn't been able to resist this morning; he'd brought me the tablets while I was still in bed, his eyes never leaving me unable they were gone. Caius was going to win at this rate.
He'd not tried to enforce breakfast until the antiemetic had time to work, then cautiously offered me something to eat. I felt the blood start to drain from my face as I picked at it, sure I was about to throw up for the first time in three days. He caught my wrist as I tried to shovel another spoonful down. "Don't force it; just have what you can manage," he reminded me carefully.
"I don't want to faint - I need to eat," I mumbled, panicky. My chest was tight at the thought of throwing away yet another meal.
"Slow down, yeah? I love that you're having breakfast, but we're not trying to set a record here. Relax a little bit." Garrett had set his plate down on his lap, his arm stretching around my shoulders to trace little circles against my bicep, his fingertip lightly twisting the fabric of my sweatshirt. He gave me a few more minutes, waiting until I'd given up, before speaking again. "Come out with me today," he started. His soft tone was carefully measured.
"I can't go anywhere," I grumbled.
The hand shifted from my arm to my hair, brushing it away from my face. "Come to the park with Kate and I - I told Eleazar I'd take her out. The weather is nice, and you've been inside for weeks on end. All you wanted when you were in hospital was to be out, and you haven't left the house since I brought you home."
"Garrett, I wanted to come home, not go out out. I can't walk anywhere," I reiterated. "I don't want to faint in town somewhere." Or vomit. Or have a panic attack. The thought of leaving the house made my heart pound painfully hard in my chest, hammering into my ribs and up my throat. I was dizzy already.
He was frowning at me. "We don't have to walk. We can take a picnic, and she can use up some of her energy on the playground. The sun is out - we can't stay inside all weekend."
"I can't." The pressure in my head swelled, my fingertips cold and tingly.
The silence grew between us. "I think this is more about you not wanting to leave home than it is about you being unwell," he murmured after a while. "Nothing is going to happen, Carlisle; we can just go for a drive, and sit outside for a bit while Kate runs around. It'll be nice."
It hurt that he was right - made it harder to refuse him while he hit the nail on the head. "It's going to make me sick, Gar. We had a good morning - let's leave it at that."
"You can't stay indoors forever, baby. You need time away from home."
"I was in the hospital for two weeks; that was time enough," I complained. "And I went to her recital and your birthday; all that was away from the house."
A heavy sigh deflated his shoulders. "Come with me to pick her up, then. If it's as horrible as you think, I'll bring you back home and we'll figure something else out. I can't leave you here on your own anyway." He'd been careful not to outrightly snap at me, but I still heard all the frustration behind his words.
I wanted to fucking cry. "Fine."
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It got worse the longer I had to think about it. By the time we were ready to leave, my legs were shaking under me, nausea gnawing in the pit of my stomach and too much saliva in my mouth. "We have to bring something in case I throw up in the car."
"Put your jacket on, Carlisle." He pulled it out of my hands, opening it so I could slide my arms through. "I've already got some of the bags from the hospital in the glovebox; you're fine."
"I'm not fine," I whined back.
He blew out a long breath but didn't snap. "Can you really not do this?" he asked softly.
I shook my head, hating the tears that unexpectedly fell. I angrily rubbed them away, hoping he wouldn't notice, but he was so focused on my face that it was impossible.
The bag that he'd slung over his shoulder dropped to the ground as he relaxed his arm. "Hey, okay, then we'll stay home and try again another day," he surrendered. His hand cupped my jaw as he kissed my cheek. "I don't want this to be traumatic, I just don't want you to end up stuck here because of your anxiety. If you're really feeling that sick, we don't have to go anywhere." His free arm snuck around my waist. "I'm sorry."
I leaned my forehead against his shoulder. "You can still go; I need to work anyway." My voice was wobbly and stupid, breaking.
"I can't leave you here alone, we've been over this; if you faint or you're too unwell while you're on your own-"
"T-then I have to come." I couldn't keep him from his family. Not because I was an idiot.
"I'll reschedule until a day that Alistair can be here. Don't worry about it."
"Garrett, you can't. I'll suck it up, I-I'll-" I didn't know what to do - I couldn't be in that car. Couldn't go to the park. People were going to stare at me, stare at the tube, stare at the marks up my arms. I sucked my hands back into my jacket sleeves as I thought about it. "We have to- we have to go."
His lips brushed mine. "Not if you're like this."
I jerked back. "We don't have a choice."
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The liquid was slopping closer and closer to the rim of the mug the more my hands trembled, threatening Carmen's cream carpet. I put it on the coffee table as soon as it was in reach, blowing out a sigh of relief once it was out of my grasp. Garrett had followed my movement, taking my hand in his and squeezing while he sat next to me on the couch.
"You okay?" he whispered.
"Nervous," I whispered back.
"You don't need to be."
"I am, though."
"Do you need to leave?" He pulled my arm into his lap, fingertips trailing over my forearm, trying to discreetly check my heart rate. I shifted my shoulders to lean against him a little better, managing to relax a little as he pressed his cheek to the top of my head.
"No, I'm- I'm okay." Just needed to breathe better. And be less of a pain in the ass. I watched Garrett's face as he spoke to his sister in-law. He was so good with Kate, so enthusiastic and kind, and - fuck, it must have been the pills but I was suddenly wishing we could have a kid together. He'd be such a good father - except the baby wouldn't be mine. Could be Heidi's, though.
"You sure? You're squeezing my hand pretty hard," he whispered. He pulled his hand free to rest his arm over my shoulders.
I swallowed. "Y-yeah. I'm good." She was going to be the death of me. Her and Caius. They almost felt like the same entity at this point. The same evil, at least. Eleazar's presence was making me dizzy - I was sure he still didn't like me, and the conversation between us was so strained it could have snapped.
It seemed like an eternity before we were ready to go. The room spun when I tried to stand, Garrett needing to steady me as we stumbled to the front door. The park seemed like an impossible task. Still, I found myself nodding when he asked if I was alright to be outdoors with them.
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Everyone was staring at me. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. "Garrett," I whispered, sharply tugging on his arm as he tried to lead me away from the car. "I can't."
"It's just a picnic; just sit with us if you're not feeling good. Are you dizzy?" His arm slid around my waist, a frown on his face as he ignored his niece in the backseat for a moment.
"No, Gar, it's not that. I think- people are looking at me." As if to spite me, the boy getting out of the car next to us loudy asked his mother what was wrong with me, the woman briefly meeting my gaze to appease her own curiosity before realising I'd overheard her child and telling him to shut up. Stupid fucking tube. I should have ripped it out. The tape on my cheek suddenly stung as my face started to burn.
My boyfriend had overheard it too. "He's a kid, Carlisle, they're just curious; he doesn't mean anything by it," he said gently, kissing my temple. "It's not that noticeable, you're okay."
"It's the most noticeable thing about me," I argued, more rudely than I meant to. He still didn't reprimand me. The woman was looking at me again. It was only when the kid started up again that I realised that I pushed my sleeves up my forearms at some point on the drive over, enough for him to be able to see the scars up my arms, my panic to get my sweatshirt to cover it again stopped my Garrett's hands. Without warming, the lump in my throat was back, my eyes burning as it was suddenly hard to breathe.
"Ignore it, it doesn't matter what they think; it's helping you get better," he murmured, hugging me against him. If nothing else, it gave me the opportunity to hide my face in his shoulder. "Don't let it upset you; you've been doing well today."
"I can't help it- it's all the time, and every little thing makes me cry - I'm going to cry over a five year old saying a mean thing- it wasn't even mean," I rambled to him. "It's stupid - I'm stupid."
"You aren't…you've been through a lot, but everything is fine. We're going on a nice trip, yeah?" he soothed. His palms brushed down my back, over my hips until they found mine in front of me. "Can I get Kate out of the car, or do you need to go home?"
I hated myself for wondering if he would have been this patient with me if he hadn't cheated. "We can stay."
Garrett smiled, giving my fingers another squeeze before he pulled away. I waited awkwardly on the pavement while he wrestled Kate out of her carseat and retrieved our bag from the trunk. She ran to me, taking my hand, giggling as I let her twirl around me, almost pulling my shoulder out of it's socket as she swung off me. "Can you help me make my halloween costume? I'm going to be a fairy!"
"Uh, yeah, I guess," I agreed unsurely, meeting Garrett's eyes. He tripped up the curb as he came to us, falling into me, his face flushing as his niece laughed and I bit my lip to avoid smiling.
"We'll help, but your mother has already made you a dress," he told her. She stuck out her tongue at him, squealing when he attempted to ruffle her hair and she ducked behind me as a buffer. She playfully screamed as he pretended to lunge for her, unable to reach her around my body as she ran to my other side.
"Can't catch me!" she announced. Again, he faked another grab, this time forcing her to let go of my clothing and skip a few feet ahead of us.
"You're too fast for us, Katie," he chuckled.
"Race you to the playground!" She took off down the path, only glancing back at us once to make sure Garrett was actually giving chase.
He jogged a total of four steps before turning back to me. Smiling, holding his hand out to me, with the sun making his hair a little more golden than usual, had butterflies in my stomach, my heart racing in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant. I couldn't help but mirror his smile as our hands met. "Everything okay?" he asked softly.
"I think so." Except I was blushing uncontrollably. My body flushed with heat as he slipped his arm around me, giddy as he guided me toward the playground. Words choked in my throat on our short walk after Kate, my sudden inability to form a coherent sentence a blessing in disguise while it kept me from saying something dumb - it wasn't my fault he was absolutely gorgeous. Maybe I was just high from the pain meds; I'd taken more than usual today. Christ, I wanted him to kiss me, though.
The playground was crawling with children, parents covering the available benches, strollers blocking the paths. It took a moment to locate the fluorescent pink of Kate's sweatshirt, but Gar was already watching her when I started to point her out. "Come, we can sit on the grass." He tugged me out onto the field, still smiling while I fought jumping him in a public place.
The man had brought a blanket. I watched while he pulled it out of the backpack and spread it out on the grass in front of us, dropping onto his knees before he beckoned me to sit with him. The sun was warm, the chill in the wind not quite so cutting while my shoulder brushed his.
"Not so bad, huh?" he teased, his grin growing when I nodded. "How long has it been since you've been in the sun?"
"Ages," I agreed. I shuffled closer, dropping my hand onto his thigh, wondering if he could stand to kiss me while I was like this.
He laughed easily, his eyes trained on his niece. "Would you like a drink?" He didn't wait for me to respond before producing a flask from the bag. "Try this - a little bit."
My stomach felt the most stable it had in weeks, and I took a sip of it without asking. Coffee. The first caffeine I'd had since I started vomiting. I groaned without meaning to, taking another mouthful of it before realising something else. "Did you put alcohol in this?"
His amusement was obvious. "Just a little - I did bring tea, if you'd rather."
"Are you drunk?" The warmth was nice. As was the privilege of an adult beverage, be it surrounded by children or not.
"Nobody is getting drunk from this, babe, there's barely anything in there - well, you might. I really thought you'd smell it first, to be honest - you usually do." His smile was fading, reaching to take it off me, like he'd made a mistake. "Careful it doesn't make you nauseous."
I rolled my eyes, snatching it away from him. Another couple of sips, and I realised something else. "Gar, your niece is here; we can't drink."
"I haven't had anything to drink yet, I promise," he chuckled. "I'm not going to drive under the influence."
"Garrett." It was hard to resist him while the beverage was comforting and he was playful.
"People drink wine with lunch, Carlisle, just relax. Give it here, if you don't like it; the tea is safe." He held out his hand to take it back, pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. "Will you eat? I think the coffee will take you out faster than the alcohol."
My nerves about a sandwich were instantly smothered. I was warm all over by the time he passed me a container of sliced fruit, the fork not long after, and I couldn't put it down to the alcohol alone. That cleaning job had been really good for his physique, and it was going to my head.
"You alright?" he checked again. While I buffered and stared, he unclipped the lid of the lunchbox. I didn't care what it was that he fed me. "Maybe that wasn't a great idea." His smile was fading as he raised his free hand to press the back of his palm to my forehead. "Your face is quite flushed; are you starting to feel sick?"
I batted his hand away, blushing more, making him laugh, blushing again. "Shut up," I complained again. "You spiked my drink."
"What, you think I'm trying to get you drunk so you'll make out with me in the park?" he teased.
"A guy can dream," I grumbled back.
"I promised I'd take you on dates, didn't I? We can do this again. I've been…practicing. You know, so we can go out for dinner, once your stomach settles down a little," he explained awkwardly.
"Practicing?" I let him pull me until I fell into his lap, laughing as he lightly squeezed me, his forearm grazed my ribs where my shirt had ridden up.
"Yeah. Like eating at work and stuff. I still can't manage that much, but-"
I kissed him, cutting him off, my hand lingering against his cheek. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you were dealing with other shit, Carlisle, it wasn't important," he mumbled. This time, it was him that turned pink, though he ducked his head to hide it.
"It is important."
.
.
"Can I…" Everything felt awkward suddenly. It had been an hour, and our conversation had trailed off, the silence difficult to break. I was sure the last time we'd been in a park together had been when I'd proposed to him, and those memories were a little too close for comfort despite the change in location. Tears would well up if I let them. I was getting sick of being so pathetic all the 'd never marry me now - even with the engagement called off, I was still dumb enough to hope that we could get that back. Especially after this afternoon.
"You want to lie down?" he prompted when I hesitated too long.
I nodded guiltily.
He stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back against one elbow, the other arm folding behind his neck as he lay on the grass. "Come here. You're not feeling ill, though?"
"Not really, I'm just…I'm so tired." I could fit against his side quite comfortably while he lay like that, his eyes trained on his niece while I hoped he couldn't hear my pulse skyrocket the moment I lay against him.
"Relax for a bit."
"We should bring wine next time," I mumbled as he draped his arm over me, knotting our fingers together. The sun was so warm. I was definitely going to fall asleep. Especially if he kept playing with my hair the way he was.
"I could organise that," he chuckled, briefly squeezing my shoulder.
.
.
The next time I opened my eyes the scene still looked the same, except Gar had draped his jacket over me, his fingers threaded through mine as his arm lay across me. So warm. It felt so good. "Did I fall asleep?" I forced myself to move, to wake up a little, squinting into the sun as I tried to look up at him. The playground was quieter, less chaos, Kate crunching through an apple a few feet from us, Garrett's phone in her lap.
"Yeah, but not for long." Liar - the fucking sun had moved.
I wasn't sure that I wanted to nap in the park. It was involuntary regardless. My back ached a little from lying on the ground as I sat up, my stomach twinging as I moved.
Garrett caught my expression, rubbing his hand down my spine. "Pack up your things, Katie, let's go home." For once, she obediently did what she was told, the hours she'd spent outside apparently enough to wear her out. She shoved her shoes back on, letting Gar tie her laces and get her back into her jacket, giving no complaints at his offer of a sandwich. He held my hand as we walked back to the car, supervising until I was stably in the passenger's seat before buckling Kate into the back.
The pain was back. As was the nausea. The whole ride back to his brother's house, I was fighting throwing up, scared to move but the pain making me squirm. "Gar," I whispered frantically. The car jolted as we entered Eleazar's nightmare of a driveway, my quiet gasp snapping his head around to face me.
"Need to go home, huh?"
I nodded, forcing myself to be still. "I'm gonna be sick - don't make me come inside."
"Of course not, just don't go anywhere." Reaching over me, he dug through the glovebox, somehow already armed with a sick-bag, my medication not far behind it. "You gonna be okay for a couple of minutes? I'll be quick." He kissed my forehead as I nodded.
It was six minutes from the time he left the car. Another twenty five for us to get back home. Fifteen more for me to fall asleep on the couch. At some point, I registered him offering dinner, not pushing me when I declined, and leaving me to pass out again.
It was dark the next time he nudged me. "Can I take you to bed?" he asked softly. His fingers sifted through my hair, quickly followed by his hand against my forehead. I tried to give my consent, but my body wouldn't cooperate. At least I didn't hurt anymore - the painkillers had really helped. They'd also made me horribly, irresistibly sleepy, though it was far more pleasant than the exhaustion I'd felt before. His arms were around me, gently lifting, but the warmth of his body made sleep too hard to resist.
.
.