Oh, hello there!

Except the tightness in his chest had gotten worse. And the cough drops weren’t doing a damn thing. Every time he tried to take a deep breath, it felt like an invisible band was squeezing his lungs. His voice had taken on a rougher edge and he’d start wheezing if he tried to say more than few words at a time.

“You look like shit,” said a familiar voice behind him.

Jack turned to find Robby standing there, coffee in hand, ready to start his shift. “Good morning to you, too. Some of us have been up all night.”

Robby hummed. “And some of us are clearly coming down with something. Seriously, Jack, you don’t look good. Are you okay?”

Jack waved a hand through the air in dismissal. “Fine. Just a little under the weather.”

“Is that why you’re breathing like you just ran a marathon?” Robby took a step closer. “You’re wheezing and I’m not the only one that noticed. I got three texts from night shift.”

“It’s just a cold.” Jack tried to take a deep breath to prove his point but it caught in his throat, triggering another coughing fit. This one was worse than the others and had him gripping the edge of the counter for support.

When the coughing subsided, Robby’s gaze was stern. “That doesn’t sound like a cold to me.”

“It’s nothing,” Jack insisted, though the pain in his chest suggested otherwise. “Probably just moved to my chest is all.”

Robby sat his coffee down and crossed his arms. “That is not nothing. I want labs and a chest x-ray.”

“Christ, Mike. It’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’m not asking, Jack. You’re a doctor. You know better than to ignore stuff like this.” His tone left no room for argument.

Jack recognized the look his friend was giving him. He wasn’t getting out of this. He sighed. “Fine. One x-ray. Then I’m going home to sleep.”

“Deal,” Robby said, already putting in the order for the portable chest x-ray into the system. He glanced at Dana who hadn’t even pretended she wasn’t listening.

“Eight’s open.”

“A room, man? Come on,” Jack complained but headed in that direction.

“Quit complaining,” Robby said as he trailed behind him, signaling the radiology tech with the machine to follow him. “Shirt off, Abbot.”

“Buy me dinner first,” Jack snarked even as he did as told. He laid down and the machine was positioned over the top of him.

“Take a deep breath and hold it,” Marcia the tech instructed.

The first time he attempted to follow instructions, he devolved into a coughing fit. “Sorry,” he apologized once he caught his breath.

“It’s fine. Just do the best you can.” The tech took three shots from different angles.

Robby slid on his glasses and stepped up to the machine while Jack put his t-shirt back on, forgoing the scrub top since his shift was over anyway.

“Let me guess. Nothing but a little inflammation. Can I go home now?”

“Leave us for a minute,” Robby said to Marcia, voice low.

Jack’s head snapped up, his gaze darting from his friend to the screen he was looking at and back again. “What is it?”

Robby turned the screen toward Jack so he could see for himself. Even from across the room, he could see the large white mass shadowing his right lung.

He swallowed hard. “That could be pneumonia. Or an abscess or something.”

“It could be,” Robby agreed but his tone suggested he didn’t believe it. “I’ve sent it up to pulmonary.” His phone rang before he could say anything else. He glanced at the screen. “That was fast.”

Jack shifted his weight as he listened to Robby’s one-sided conversation with pulmonary. When he hung up, he turned to look at Jack.

“Dr. Tanaka wants to see you immediately.” He paused and looked at Jack as if the name should mean something to him. It didn’t. After a moment, Robby took a breath. “He’s sent an order to CT. You’re to report there and then head to his office.”

“Right now?” Jack’s voice was little more than a whisper. The words having to be forced past the lump in his throat. This was all happening too fast. One moment he’d been dismissing his persistent cough and the next he was being scheduled for immediate appointments with pulmonary. “It’s probably nothing. Just a weird artefact in the imaging or something,” he said more to himself than Robby.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Robby agreed, but the worry in his eyes said something else entirely. “But you’re going to get checked out thoroughly just to be sure.”

Within half an hour, Jack was laying on the table in a gown as the CT hummed around him. The contrast dye made him feel warm and vaguely nauseous, but it was nothing compared to the cold fear settling in his stomach.

The tech entered the room. “All finished. By the time you get changed and to his office, Dr. Tanaka should have the images.”

Jack cleared his throat. “That’s fast.”

“You’re a VIP patient today, Dr. Abbot.”

There was nothing Jack wanted to be less. He didn’t want to be here. Didn’t want to be doing this. He wanted to go home, go to bed and pretend none of this ever happened.

He made his way to the pulmonary floor trying to prepare himself for whatever Dr. Tanaka might say. He’d delivered bad news to patients and their families plenty of times, but he hadn’t been on the receiving end since Mari died.

The waiting room was empty when he arrived, the early hour meaning most patients hadn’t arrived for the appointments yet. The receptionist smiled as he approached. “Dr. Abbot? Dr. Tanaka is ready for you. Third door on the right.”

Jack took a deep breath, or tried to, and headed down the hall. Whatever was waiting for him, he would face it like he did everything else. Head on. Even if, for the first time in years, he was truly afraid.

When he entered the room, Jack was surprised to find himself in an office instead of an exam room. Tanaka rose to greet him. “Dr. Abbot,” he held out a hand to shake Jack’s.

“Just Jack,” he said with a nod before taking one of the chairs in front of the desk.

“Very well. Jack, then.” Tanaka stayed standing and pressed a couple of buttons on his computer and the large screen behind him lit up with an image of what Jack assumed were his lungs. He pointed at the mass that seemed to branch out from the right lung. “Do you know what you’re looking at here?”

Jack studied the image noting the abnormal density, the way it seemed to branch through his lung tissue like the roots of a plant. The mass was larger than it had appeared in the x-ray, more defined.

Jack swallowed. “A tumor. Probably malignant given the irregularities and the rapid growth.” He’d seen the symptoms enough in his patients to recognize the pattern. The cough, the tight chest, the fatigue. Classic presentation for lung cancer.

Tanaka shook his head. “I had my suspicions from your x-ray but the CT confirms.” He used a finger to indicate several areas on the scan. “Do you see these fine lines extending from the main mass?”

Jack leaned forward. Now that the doctor pointed it out, he could see delicate lines spreading through his lung tissue. “Vascularization?” he guessed.

“Not exactly.” Tanaka took a seat at his desk. “What you’re seeing is consistent with the presentation of Hanahaki disease.”

Jack physically jerked back in his seat. That wasn’t… “That’s impossible. I want a second opinion.”

“You are certainly entitled to one, but I am the leading expert in Hanahaki in the state.” He wasn’t bragging, just stating a fact.

The look Robby had given him when he’d said the name suddenly made so much sense. “I’ve only ever loved my wife, and she’s dead. Has been for years.”

Jack had seen Hanahaki before, of course he had. The condition was rare and still not well understood. Unrequited love manifesting physically with the growth of flowers in the lungs. But it was something that happened to young romantics or the occasional middle-age yearner, not to someone like him. Not to an old, broken ER attending who’d buried his heart with his wife six years ago.

“I’m sorry, but the blood tests confirm.” He clicked on his screen and Jack’s results populated the screen.

Jack shook his head, unable to process what he was hearing. “Run more tests. There has to be a mistake.”

“Dr. Abbot, Jack, we can run additional tests, but given your symptoms and the findings, Hanahaki is our working diagnosis.” He paused, studying Jack’s face. “I suggest you do some soul searching. You’re in love whether you want to admit it to yourself or not.”

Jack opened his mouth to argue but another coughing fit seized him, doubling him over. His lungs burned as he struggled to draw breath. When it finally subsided, he was surprised to find Tanaka standing in front of him holding a tissue. Only when he took it did he understand why. Delicate pink petals filled his palm.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, staring at the evidence in his hand.

“That’s confirmation enough for me,” Dr. Tanaka said quietly. “The small petals are consistent with early stage Hanahaki. They’ll become larger and more numerous as the disease progresses, until you are expelling full blooms.”

Jack couldn’t tear his gaze away from the petals. Each one was perfect, like they’d been plucked from some unseen garden growing inside him. And he supposed in a way they had. “How long?” he managed to ask.

“Hard to say without knowing how fast it’s progressing. We’ll do another scan in a week and go from there.” Tanaka paused then added, “I assume you are aware of your options.”

Jack nodded once. “Surgery or…death.” He had to force the last word past his lips. He’d engaged in reckless behavior, volunteering for SWAT, standing on the edge of the roof while he thought about how easy it would be to just not have to deal with it all anymore. To not be alone every fucking day of his life. But now that the very real possibility of his death was looming in the shadows he suddenly found he didn’t want it.

“As you are aware, the surgery would remove any feelings for the person in question. You may forget them entirely though that is very rare. There is also always the possibility that the person you love will return your affections. Then no intervention would be needed,” Tanaka said, voice soft. “The matter would resolve on its own. It’s quite remarkable really.”

Jack looked down at the petals again. The idea that his body had somehow conjured flowers from a love he wasn’t even aware of seemed impossible. Yet the evidence was literally in his hand.

“You have a lot to think about,” Tanaka said, standing. “I’ll schedule another scan for next week and we can talk about options.”

“Thank you,” Jack said as he stood as well.

“You should take it easy until then. The coughing may worsen, particularly if you’re stressed or physically exerted. I’d recommend time off work.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jack said, but the thought of sitting alone at home with his thoughts was not one he wanted to contemplate at the moment.

Dr. Tanaka seemed to sense his turmoil. “This is a lot to process. Many patients find it helpful to talk to someone. A therapist or a family member. And I suggest a discussion with the person—”

“There is no person,” Jack cut him off sharply. “My wife has been dead for six years. There’s been no one since.”

The other man didn’t argue, but his expression made it clear he wasn’t convinced. “I’ll see you next week. Call if you have any questions or concerns before then.”

“Thank you for seeing me on such short notice.” Jack turned and hurried from the room, closing the door behind him. In the hall, he pressed his back against the wall. He took the deepest breath he had since entering the office. The tightness in his chest reminded him of the flowers blooming where they had no right to be.

Love.

The word echoed in his head. He’d buried that part of himself when Mari died. The idea that his body had somehow betrayed him, had grown flowers for someone else…It was too much. He couldn’t accept it. Wouldn’t.

He pushed off the wall and headed for the elevator. One foot in front of the other. That’s how he’d gotten through the worst days after Mari’s death and that’s how he would get through this.

Jack made it back to the ER on autopilot, his mind still reeling. Day shift was in full swing. Jack just stood for a minute, trying to orientate himself, feeling oddly disconnected from the familiar chaos.

“Jack!”

He turned to find Robby hurrying toward him. His face was creased with worry, eyes scanning Jack’s features as if searching for visible changes.

“Well? What did he say?”

Jack opened his mouth, then closed it again. How did he possibly explain he was coughing up petals for someone he was supposedly in love with? It was stupid. Ridiculous. And just the sort of thing that would happen to him. Of course it was.

“It’s not possible,” he finally forced out. “It’s not…Mike, I…” His voice cracked, another cough building in his chest.

“Okay, okay,” Robby said, his tone shifting from urgent to soothing. “Let’s sit down, huh? You look like you’re about ready to fall over.”

Before Jack could protest, Robby led him through the department toward the breakroom. He deposited him in a chair at one of the tables, then turned to fill a cup with water. “Here, drink,” he instructed as he sat it in front of Jack.

Jack obeyed mechanically, the cool liquid soothing his raw throat. The simple act centered him somewhat, anchoring him to the present moment.

Robby pulled out a chair and sat down. “Now, what did Tanaka say?”

Jack stared at the cup in his hands. “Hanahaki,” he said finally.

“Shit. I thought it might be when they said Tanaka wanted to see you.” Robby sighed and ran a hand over his mouth. “He’s the best, so there’s that at least.”

Jack shook his head. “It doesn’t make any sense, man. I haven’t been in love with anyone since Mari died.”

An expression he couldn’t place flicked across Robby’s face before shifting to disbelief. “Are you serious right now?”

Jack frowned. “What’s with the tone? Why are you making it sound like I’m stupid?”

“Because you are,” Robby said without hesitation. When Jack just stared at him, Robby pinched the bridge of his nose, took a deep breath, then crossed his arms over his chest. “You really don’t know?”

“Know what?” Jack demanded, irritation briefly overriding his confusion.

Your name was the only thing that left Robby’s lips.

Jack blinked and repeated it like a question. Like your face hadn’t just appeared in his brain. Like he didn’t instantly think about your smile, hear your laugh.

“Yes!” Robby threw his hands up in exasperation. “The woman you’ve been staring at with a besotted expression for the past eight months? The one you look for anytime you enter the department? The one whose coffee order you have memorized?”

No, no. That couldn’t be right. “But she’s—”

“Brilliant,” Robby stated. “Funny. Kind. Beautiful. Should I continue to list off everything you said to me the last time we went out? You talked about her all night, man.”

“I mean…I respect her.” The words felt inadequate even as he said them. Images of you flashed through his mind. The way you laughed at your own jokes even if no one else did, how you always remembered small details about people, that furrow that appeared between your brows when you were concentrating.

“She’s dedicated,” he continued. “Compassionate. She doesn’t take shit from anyone, but she’s never mean about it. And she’s…” He trailed off, suddenly realizing he could continue talking about you for the rest of the day.

“She’s what?” Robby prompted, a knowing look on his face.

Jack shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t love her. I can’t.”

“Why not? Because you loved Mari? Loving someone else doesn’t erase what you had with her.”

“It’s not that simple,” Jack argued, though he couldn’t have explained why if someone pressed.

“It actually is,” Robby replied, not unkindly. “You loved your wife. She died and it broke you. For a long time, I wasn’t certain you’d ever put yourself back together. But you have. And against all odds you found someone who makes you feel something again. Instead of being grateful, instead of grasping it with both hands, you’re literally making yourself sick denying it.”

“It’s not…I haven’t—”

“You have,” Robby interrupted. “Everyone knows you’re in love with her except you and her, apparently.” He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “Just think about it, okay? Really think about it.”

As if on cue, another coughing fit seized Jack, this one stronger than the last. He doubled over, hand braced against the table as his chest contracted painfully. When it finally subsided, he found his palm filled with more petals, the edges tinged with blood.

“Holy shit.” Robby stared at the evidence in front of him.

Jack closed his hand around the petals, as if hiding them from view would make them cease to exist. “I need to get out of here. I need to go home.” He pushed himself to his feet. The room titled slightly, his vision blurring at the edges.

“You’re in no condition to drive,” Robby said standing as well, typing on his phone. “Let me have someone run you home.”

“I’m fine,” Jack insisted though the wheeze in his voice undermined his claim. “I just need some sleep. I need to rest.” He needed to get you out of his brain.

“You need to figure this out, Jack. Finding out you have Hanahaki would throw anyone for a loop, especially when you didn’t even realize you were in love. But this isn’t something you can ignore. It won’t just go away, it will only get worse.

Robby was right, Jack knew he was. He’d been ignoring what was happening for weeks, dismissing symptoms, making excuses. And now he was paying the price.

“I know. I’ll think about what you said. I promise.”

“Good. That’s a start. Now get your things together. Your ride should be here in a minute.”

Now, when Robby said ride, Jack assumed he meant an intern. An uber perhaps. What he did not expect to see when he stepped through the doors was you. You’d pulled your car to the side where it wouldn’t impede any ambulances and you leaned against it. It took him longer than he’d admit to realize you were waiting for him.

Jack spun on his heel to glare at his former best friend. “What the fuck did you do?” he hissed.

Robby gave him a look of feigned innocence. “Got you a ride.”

“You asked her?”

At that he grinned. “Actually, I sent a message to the group chat. She volunteered.”

“Oh.” He looked over to find you in the same position, your gaze moving between the two attendings. He lifted a hand in greeting and to let you know he’d be right there.

You nodded, waved at Robby and got behind the wheel.

“What do I do?” Jack asked, suddenly at a loss.

Robby rested a heavy hand on Jack’s shoulder. “You don’t have to do anything, brother. Just let her take you home. Think about how you really feel about her. That’s all.”

“Yeah, yeah, I can do that,” Jack agreed with a nod of his head. “I’ll see you later.”

“Not tonight you won’t,” Robby corrected. “You’re off until Friday at the earliest. Doctor’s orders.”

Jack didn’t bother to argue. Knew there would be no point. And honestly, he could use a few days to get his head straight. He held up a hand in goodbye as he made his way to your car, his mind churning. What if Robby was right? What if he’d fallen in love without realizing it, what then? You had never given any indication you felt the same. The idea of confessing feelings that might not be returned…

Another cough built in his chest as if his body was responding to the thought. He swallowed hard, forcing it down. One problem at a time. First, he needed to get home. Then he needed to figure out if Robby was right.

As if sensing Jack was lost his head, you didn’t attempt to make conversation after your initial greeting once he got in the car. When you arrived at his house, he finally turned to look at you. “Thanks for the ride. I would have been fine driving but Robby insisted.”

“I didn’t mind, Jack. However, I’m afraid you can’t be rid of me just yet.”

His brows shot up into his hairline. “Excuse me?”

“Bossman said, and I quote, ‘get his ass inside and into bed with a glass of water and trashcan nearby.’ So that’s what I’m going to do. Let’s go.” You climbed out of the car and waited for him to exit before locking the doors.

“I assure you that his is not necessary,” Jack argued. More than that, it could be catastrophic. Having you in his house, where he’d now be able to picture you clearly instead of relying solely on his imagination? That sounded like a horrible idea. Not that he’d ever pictured you in his house. Sitting across from him at the table, nestled into his side as you watched TV. That would be absurd.

You took his bag from his loose hold and ignored his protests as you carried it up to the door. Jack stared at you hopeless for another moment before sighing and following after you. “Keys are in the front pocket.”

You pulled them out and handed them over. He unlocked the door, leaving it open for you to follow after. He gestured at the hooks just inside the door. “You can hang the bag there.”

You did and kicked off your shoes, nudging them to line up against the wall. “Robby didn’t exactly say what was wrong with you.” You paused, but Jack didn’t offer any clarification. No, that would be a monumentally stupid thing to do. You cleared your throat. “Are you hungry? I could make you something.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m fine.” The endearment slipped out without thought. He suddenly wondered when the first time was he had called you that. And when had that become the norm instead of your name? Christ. He wiped a hand down his face. “I’m fucking exhausted. I just want to go to bed.”

You nodded. “Sure. Let me get you that water at least.”

Jack just nodded and headed down the hall toward his bedroom to fish out something to change into after his shower. You stepped into the doorway just as he finished taking off his leg. He froze and swallowed. “Sorry. Forgot you’d be coming back here.”

You smiled and Jack had to glance away. “It’s your home, Jack, and I’ve seen you without the leg before. It’s not like you were nude. Here.” You sat the glass on the nightstand. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No. I’ve got it. Thank you.” You had seen him without the leg precisely once when it started rubbing wrong on a shift and you’d made him sit down and get an exam. You’d also bullied him into supervising from a wheelchair for the rest of the night when you saw his red, raw flesh by threatening to call Robby and tattle on him.

Your gaze ran over him, assessing. He could feel it. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

His eyes found yours again but he said nothing.

“You just seem off.” Worry shone in your eyes and he forced himself to look away once more.

“I’m fine. Just tired.”

After a moment, you stepped toward the door. “Call me if you need anything, okay? Anything at all.” When he only nodded, you added, “Promise?”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat when he heard the gravel in his voice. “Promise.”

“Okay. Bye, Jack.” And with that, you left without waiting for a response.

Tension immediately flowed from Jack’s entire body. Jesus, Robby couldn’t have found literally anyone else to bring him home? He pushed thoughts of you from his head as he finished stripping. Using his crutches, he moved into the shower, ready to rinse the night off so he could get some sleep.

Not thinking of you lasted approximately two and a half minutes after he turned the water on. He’d turned the temp up on the water hoping it would help clear his lungs. His chest ached with each breath, a constant reminder of the flowers blooming in his lungs.

Flowers.

For you.

It was ridiculous. Yes, he enjoyed working with you. You were competent, smart, quick to smile and to make others laugh. You had a way with patients that made even the most difficult cases manageable. And so what if he’d noticed the way your eyes crinkled at the corners when you smiled, or that you tapped your fingers when you were thinking?

But that didn’t mean he was in love with you. Love was what he’d had with Mari. All consuming, life-altering, the kind that left you devastated and broken when it was no longer yours. What he felt for you was…appreciation. Admiration, perhaps. Friendship. That was it. He loved you like a very dear friend.

Except friends didn’t keep mental lists of your favorite foods, or notice when you changed your shampoo, or come in on their nights off because you were working. Friends didn’t feel their mood lift the moment you walked into a room or find themselves replaying conversations long after they’d ended.

Jack groaned, rinsing the last of the shampoo out of his hair. This was insane. He was a grown man, not some teenager with a crush. He’d been married, for fuck’s sake. He knew what love felt like.

Or he had once. Before Mari died, leaving him hollowed out and certain he would never feel that way again. He’d adjusted to his solitude. To the bed being too big and the house too quiet.

But lately…

He sucked in a shaky breath as he finally admitted to himself that he’d been pursuing you without even realizing it. No wonder Robby had looked at him like he was an idiot. He was.

“I’m fond of her,” he said aloud, testing the words. “That’s all it is. A fondness.” It couldn’t be love, because if it was that meant—

His chest contracted sharply, another cough building. This one came on faster than the others, stealing his breath before he could prepare. He curled forward, one hand pressed to his sternum as his lungs spasmed. The coughing fit seemed to last forever, each breath harder than the last, until finally, blessedly, it subsided.

When he could breathe again, he opened his eyes to see dozens of petals swirling toward the drain. Proof, if he’d needed it that Tanaka was right. That Robby was right.

He was in love with you. For far longer than he cared to admit.

Tears mixed with the water running down his cheeks as his shoulders shook in a silent sob. He’d fallen in love with you and hadn’t even realized because it was so subtle, so quiet, compared to what he’d had with his wife. He’d lost out on so much time with you because he was too afraid to examine his feelings. To admit to himself what everyone else had known all along.

But what difference did it make really? Because even if he loved you, what then? You’d never given any indication you felt the same. No lingering looks or soft touches. Nothing to suggest you saw him as anything more than a colleague.

And why would you? He was damaged goods. A widower with a missing leg and more baggage than most people would want to deal with. You were vibrant, fully engaged with life in a way he had long forgotten. You deserved someone whole, someone who could love you without reservation or complication. Someone who didn’t still wake reaching for a wife that would never be there again.

Jack closed his eyes and took another shaky breath as he turned off the water. As he dried off and headed for bed, he considered his options. He’d meet with Tanaka and schedule the surgery. But he should talk to you first. He knew he should. But he was so fucking scared.

He reached for his phone, thumb hovering over your name in his contacts. You’d told him to call if he needed anything, but what if he only needed you? He could hear your voice, ask you to come back. He could tell you everything and hope maybe you felt the same.

He moved to the call button, then stopped. He needed to sleep first. Needed to be fully about himself before he decided how to approach this. It took hours of tossing and turning before he finally found rest, but even that was fitful.

He glanced at the clock when he woke to find it nearing seven. At least he’d managed a few hours. You were working, so his grand confession would have to wait. Maybe he could meet you after shift and take you to breakfast.

He was so lost in his head when he opened the bedroom door that he almost disregarded the rich aroma filling the air and the soft sounds from his kitchen. He frowned and moved into the other room, calling a soft “Hello?” as he went.

As he stepped into the doorway, you glanced at him over your shoulder and he sucked in a breath. You were here. In his home. Making dinner.

“You stayed?” he asked, voice rougher than intended.

You shrugged and turned back to the stove. “You didn’t look okay. I wanted to be close, crashed on the couch. I hope I didn’t overstep.”

He swallowed down the words that rose in his throat. No. Never. Stay the night. Stay forever. “Don’t you have to work?”

“Bossman gave me the night off. Told me to take care of you if I was that worried. I wasn’t going to argue with him. Thought I’d make you some soup.” You didn’t look at him, but he could hear the concern in your tone, the worry that he would be upset with you for taking care of him.

He just watched you move in his space like you belonged there.

Finally, you glanced at him again and gave him a small smile when you found him watching. “Where’s your bowls?”

“I’ll get them,” he said, suddenly desperate to do something.

It was a simple task but before he could even open the cabinet, he was seized by another violent coughing fit. He bent over the sink, bracing against the edge for support. His chest burned and his vision blurred at the edge. He vaguely registered you saying his name and a hand landing on his back, warm even through the fabric of his shirt.

When the fit finally subsided, he was horrified to see the petals that littered the sink.

You went completely still beside him. “Jack, are those…”

“It’s not…” he started then trailed off. There was no explanation he could give you beside the truth.

“Oh,” you said softly, your fingers curling in as you removed your touch from his back. You took a step away. “Who is it?” You sounded resigned, maybe even a little hurt.

The question hung between you. Jack remained braced against the sink, unable to look at you. “When my wife died, I thought I would never love anyone again. That it would be impossible. So, when it happened, I didn’t even realize it. Or I suppose it’s more like I ignored it.” He risked a glance at your reflection in the window above the sink. “I guess my body didn’t like that. It’s making me face it.”

“That wasn’t my question, Jack.” Your voice was smaller than he’d ever heard it.

He turned to face you then, his hip leaning against the counter to take his weight. “Don’t you know, sweetheart? According to Robby, it’s obvious to everyone in the department that I’m crazy about you.”

Jack watched your face for your reaction. Anything. But your expression remained carefully blank aside from a slight widening of your eyes.

“Me?” you finally said, the word barely audible.

“Yeah.” Jack pushed off from the counter, using his crutches to move over to one of the chairs and dropping into it. He kept his gaze on anything but you. “But I don’t expect anything. You don’t owe me anything. I have options. I’ll be fine. I see the doctor again next week and I can get the surgery scheduled.”

 “Jack Abbot, if you have that surgery, I will never forgive you.” Your sharp tone had his head immediately snapping over to follow you as you stepped toward him.

“What? Why?”

“Because it is completely unnecessary, you idiot. I have been in love with you for ages.”

Time seemed to stop. Jack stared at you, certain he’d misheard. “What?”

You came to a stop in front of him. “I’ve loved you for months, probably longer. I just didn’t think that you would ever…that you could ever…”

The rest of your sentence was lost as Jack pulled you forward into his arms, one hand coming up to cradle your face. His thumb traced your lips as your eyes searched his. He leaned in, giving you every chance to pull away.

You didn’t.

His lips found yours hesitantly at first, then with growing certainty as you responded. He laughed against your mouth as you turned and sat sideways in his lap. When he finally pulled back completely, the first thing he noticed was your wide smile and the joy in your eyes.

The second was, that for the first time in weeks—in six years, really—he could finally, simply, breathe.

And when Superman came home from saving the world he became just your Clark. You remember the day he told you he loved you. It was late. About 2 in the morning. He had come back from his Superman duties and you were making him pancakes. He just watched you for a while. You were tired but still you insisted on him getting some food in his stomach.

It's not like it hit him like a truck, he knew he loved you for a while now but this just solidified the fact. I love you He blurted out causing you to freeze. In that moment home had become something more to the two of you. This was home.

So of course Clark would ask you to be his date at a hometown wedding and of course you accepted. You had met his parents a couple times but you hadn't met the town of Smallville. Gossip spreads like wildfire and you knew that Clark Kent's city date would be on the list of town gossip.

It was terrifying.

You were stepping into the unknown. Seeing a side of his life that you hadn't been apart of. It felt silly to be so worried about it. The Kent's loved you and so did Clark so nothing else should matter. But that poison seeped into your head the more you let yourself think about it.

You glance at the mirror of the Kent's guestroom for the hundredth time this morning. The dress you bought just for today laying on the bed as you work up the courage to put it on. You're wasting time and you know it. The ceremony is supposed to start in an hour and the drive was 10 minutes and you know that the Kent's are going to get stopped to chat which adds another 30 minutes before you can even get into the venue.

"Honey? We're leaving soon." Clark calls through the door. The door twists open and he peeks his head in.

"Oh!" He blushes as he covers his eyes with his hand when he see's your state of undress. You let out a laugh as you pull him into the room.

"Clark you don't have to cover your eyes, you've seen me naked before." You tease as he keeps his hand firmly over his eyes.

"That's different." He argues and you just shake your head.

"Not to rush you, but we do have to get going soon. Ma loves to chat and I already know that Mrs. Baker is going to stop us and that conversation is going to be very embarassing for me." Your smile falls slightly as you turn away.

"Just, a little nervous is all." You pick the dress up off the bed and step into it.

"Nervous for what? They're all gonna love you." Clark says with such confidence you almost believe him. What could possibly be nerve-wracking about going to a wedding in your boyfriends childhood hometown where everyone is going to gossip and grill you about your relationship with him?

"Can you help me?" You ask, dodging his question as you stare into the mirror.

Clark finally puts his hand down, grinning like a fool as he walks up behind you. His hands ghosting your hips as he kisses your cheek.

"You know it's rude to outshine the couple honey." He teases as his warm hands gently trace your back. The blush on his face still burning through his skin as he zips up your dress.

"Oh please, you've shown me the engagement photos I don't think that's possible." You say as you turn to adjust Clark's tie.

"Well, you outshine anyone in the room to me."

Kids! Come on we gotta go!" Martha calls from the kitchen.

"Coming Ma!" Clark calls back.

With a flash of his smile he grabs your hand and leads you down the stairs. Thank god for Mrs. Kent's ability to talk because she kept Clark busy the whole car ride. It was so sweet how happy she was to have Clark actually home for more than just a quick visit. He slipped back so easily into that charming farm boy persona that you had only seen glimpses of back in Metropolis. It suited him.

It seems this wedding was a whole town affair as you saw the group of people standing outside of the church. With a deep breath you tell yourself to calm down as the truck came to a stop. Clark hops out of the car first and jogs over to the other side before you can even think about opening the door.

He never let you open doors anymore, that was his job now. He holds his hand out to help you out of his dad's truck. Smiling as he offers you his arm to take as you walk towards the group who's eyes had turned to you and Clark.

"Well I'll be, Is that Clark Kent?" An older lady calls, a big smile on her face as she walks over.

"Told you." Clark mumbles in your ear before flashing a smile. Ah, Mrs. Baker.

"Yes Ma'am it is."

"I haven't seen you since you were a little boy." She grabs Clark's face and squishes his cheeks. You laugh as he gently pries her hands off his face.

"And you must be his date! Oh aren't you a pretty thing." She turns her sights to you and you smile nervously.

"I used to look after Clark when he was just a baby. Oh he was just the cutest thing. When he was three he had this blue blanket that he would refuse to let go of and cried when Martha tried to wash it." You laugh as you look at Clark who has turned bright red. She leans in closer to you winks at Clark.

"He swears he got rid of it by 5 but between you and me he slept with it till he was 10."

"Okay thank you Mrs. Baker, We should really be finding our seats soon." Clark interrupts, gently guiding you away from the woman before she could reveal any more embarassing things.

"She's exaggerating." He says as he tries to calm his burning face. You look over at him and nod, though your face smiling too wide for it to be sincere.

"I'm sure she is. So what did you name it?" You ask jokingly and he just huffs.

"Blankie..." He mumbles and you pinch his cheek teasingly.

He takes your hand and guides you through the crowd of people. It seems everyone knows him as they call his name and try and drag him into a conversation. He does his best to evade them but right as you're about to sit Martha calls his name.

"Clark! You remember the Lang's right? Come over and say hi." He groans and looks at you sadly.

"Go say hi honey, I'll be here." He hesitates, clearly wanting to stay here with you.

But you knew this was going to be a part of the day so you push him towards his mother. You could survive a few minutes alone and frankly it also means you can let yourself breathe for a second.

"Hi there!" A perky blonde woman appears in front of you. Her smile scares you a little as you reach out and shake her extended hand.

"Hi…" You look over and Clark was deep in conversation. Shit. She follows your line of sight and gasps as she puts two and two together.

"So you're Clark's date! Well aren't you just a lucky duck." She looks you over and you start to feel uncomfortable.

"So so glad you could make it, ever since Martha let it slip that her son was seeing someone we've all been dying to meet them. I mean after Lana what other great love story could Clark have?"

"Lana?" You ask and her expression turns curious.

"Lana Lang? Clark's old girlfriend. Oh they were so good together. We all thought they were going to be together forever but then she got accepted to a school on the other side of the country. Brillant one she was. And then Clark left for Metropolis and well." She sighs as she fails to notice the growing unease on your face.

Clark had never told you about Lana. Sure you never asked and it really wasn't your buisness either but seeing the way this lady was making them out to be some epic fairytale romance, it made you wonder why you hadn't even heard her name.

"I always thought they'd meet down the road one day. Right person wrong time kind of thing you know? But it seems I was wrong and you seem lovely!" She flashes that smile again and you let out a strangled hum. Was it hot in here or was it just the ugly feelings brewing in your stomach.

"Well I better go, nice to meet you." As she leaves Clark slids into the pew right next to you barely giving you time to breathe.

"Jeez am I glad to be out of that conversation." He mumbles as he takes notice of the woman you were speaking to.

"That's Mrs. Haroldhaus. She is the leader of the PTA and as my ma put it, a very unkind woman."

"Wow, those are some harsh words coming from her." You try and joke back. Clark looks at you for a moment.

"Did she say something? Because whatever it is is complete nonsense." You dig your nails into your palm but Clark locks his fingers with yours the moment he sees it.

"No she didn't say anything, it's just a lot of people I don't know who all seem to know me already." You tell him.

"That's Smallville for you, but I promise it's nothing but town gossip. Seeing your beautiful face is probably the most exciting thing to happen in weeks." He leans in to kiss your forehead and for a moment all the voices in your head are silenced.

He doesn't let go of your hand for the whole ceremony. His thumb brushing the back of your hand soothingly throughout it. Clark swears he's not a crier but you saw him wipe his eyes as the vows were said. And you almost cry when he leans over and whispers that he loves you as they say I do. The bells ring and everything that woman said has left your mind. Clark's very presence doing enough to quiet the doubt that's been growing in your heart.

It's no surprise that the reception is held at a barn just down the road from the Kent's. It's the biggest venue in town after all. It barely feels like a barn with all the decoration and the distinct lack of animal smell. It was interesting watching Clark almost revert back to his Smallville self. A southern drawl even slipping its way out now and then.

He looked so free. So natural back here. Free from the weight of Superman and the deadlines of the planet. Was this what his life was like before?

You meet his eyes and his body seems to relax. His smile becoming more natural as he sends you a small wave. You wave back and take another sip of your drink. You decided it was best to stay planted at your assigned seat. Making small talk occasionally but nothing more than complimenting the couple or admiring the decoration. The people of Smallville were still watching you.

Maybe not literally but there's a lot of people here and as you've witnessed, they love to talk. The music slows as couples start to move to the dance floor. Clark finally breaks from a conversation with an old high school friend to make his way back to you.

"Can I have this dance honey," Clark beams as he holds his hand out.

"Of course." You take it and he leads you to an emptier spot. He rests his hands on your waist as you wrap you place your hands on his shoulders.

"You look beautiful. Gosh I am the luckiest guy here." He hums and you look away. Compliments from Clark always made you so flustered.

"Oh please, I'm the envy of everyone here. I'm Clark Kent's date." Now it's his turn to get all nervous as he shakes his head.

"Careful, my ego can only handle so much." You snort as you pull him in closer, hands now around the back of his neck. You look into his eyes and everything just feels so right. Like you are meant to be here dancing with him. There's a ripple of whispers and excited voices as the barn doors open.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. My flight got delayed and I only just landed and came straight here." An angelic voice floats through the room. Cutting through the music and the noise of everyone around you. Clark's eyes widen as his head snaps in the direction of all the commotion.

"Lana?" Clark whispers. Your heart drops. Lana…Lang? Clark's high school sweetheart Lana Lang? Clark looks back at you, then at her. The crowd of people part like a fucking movie so that it's just Lana and Clark.

Lana and Clark and You. His arms fall to their side and so do yours. People go back to talking, the music never even stopped but to you it was like your world had completely frozen. You could feel a million eyes on you and you wanted to puke.

"I'm going to get a drink." You mumble. Clark's head whips back to face you. His eyes wide as he starts to stutter out something. His hand reaches for yours but you dodge it.

"Honey?" He asks, frowning as you refuse to look hin in the eye.

"Clark? It's been forever!" Lana's soft voice fills your ears.

Echoing across your head until its all you can hear. Clark looks at a loss. Torn between you and his former love. You take a step back from them. Shooting Lana a weak smile as she smiles at you. God you wished she was cruel about it. It would be so much easier if she was. But no. She was completely sincere in the way she introduces herself to you. She's beautiful. No wonder everyone in town seems to love her.

Your eyes shift towards Clark who was staring at her. Not you. Her.

"I'll let you two catch up," You blurt out before you can stop yourself.

God even Clark looks confused as you walk away. Why would you say that? Why would you leave your boyfriend to speak to his high school fucking sweetheart. It's like you want him to be as cruel as he is in your head right now.

"Oh Clark and Lana, still as perfect as they were in high school." Someone says with a sigh. You should keep walking. Tune them out and go but your feet feel like they're tied down. Forcing you to listen to words you know will only hurt you more.

"I always thought he was soo dreamy but even I couldn't deny the connection they had." Someone else says.

You refuse to turn around, afraid that if you do you'd see what everyone else sees. That Clark belonged to someone who isn't you.

You walk right past the refreshment table. Slipping past people until you were finally out of that barn. The cold air helps as you feel tears threatening to fall. Maybe you should have grabbed a drink before coming out here. You really need one.

"It's too cold for you to be out here alone hon." You wipe your eyes as you turn to see Clark's mom has followed you outside.

"Hi Mrs. Kent, I'll be back in a moment." You say but she doesn't seem convinced. She see's right through you and the look on her face says it all.

"I told you to call me Ma." She scolds and you let out a tired laugh. She looks sadly at you before grabbing your hand.

"Did Clark ever tell you that he called us after your first date?" She asks and you shake your head.

"He sounded so giddy, told me Ma, I think I'm gonna marry this girl one day." She brushes your cheek as a stray tear falls down.

"He loves you more than anything in the world. Now I'm not saying he's perfect, he is his fathers son after all and you and I both know boys can be a little foolish sometimes." You let out a real laugh this time and she pulls you into a hug. You see where Clark gets his warm hugs from. You try not to get your tears on her dress as she squeezes you tightly.

"Thank you, really." You reluctantly let go of her. Wanting to stay in her safe embrace for longer.

But you can hear the laughter coming from inside and you suddenly feel so silly for getting so upset. But in truth you don't think you could go back in there and pretend everything was okay. But today isn't about you and your black hole of insecurity. It was about that happy couple inside.

"I think I'm going to head back to the house, if that's okay with you." You say quietly.

"Let me go get-"

"No no, you guys stay here." You interrupt her before she can finish.

"Please I don't want this to ruin anyones night. Besides its just down the road I swear I won't get lost." Smallville was as safe as you could get and you refused to let anyones night be cut short because of you. She looks like she doesn't want to let you go but to your surprise she relents.

"Call as soon as your home alright and tell Clark the spare key's still under that one rock." She gives you one last hug before disappearing back inside.

"Mrs. Kent what…ah nevermind." You kick off your shoes and start down the dirt path towards the Kents.

The stars shined so bright they almost lead the way back to the farm. They're never this clear in Metropolis. You wonder if Clark ever stargazed when the sky was the clearest. He probably did, perched up in that barn on the hay past his bedtime watching the stars and knowing that's where he came from.

Then your brain wonders if he ever brought Lana with him and the thought sours. You curse yourself for letting your mind wander to that again. But you'd be a fool to pretend like all of yours and Clark's firsts hadn't happened with someone else. You were unbelievably and embarassingly jealous.

Clark…he'd never hurt you on purpose. You know that. He loves you, you know that too. But the idea that he could have settled for you haunts every step. He loves you, but did he love her more?

Was your relatonship something easy for him? Were you just the consolation prize because he couldn't be with his high school sweetheart?

A literal blur stops you in your tracks. You let out a scream as Clark suddenly stands before you. His tie is undone and he looks upset.

"Clark! I told you I hate when you super speed right next to me!" You huff as you try and walk past him. His hands grip your waist, stopping you from leaving.

"What are you thinking?! Walking back alone?? In the dark?? With no shoes on??" His hands move to cups your face, he quickly checks over you.

As if you could have sustained any injury in the 5 minutes you were walking. The barn is still in view yet he's acting like you went around the streets of Gotham.

"Clark I'm fine, what could even hurt me on the 10 minute walk back to your house anyways?" You ask and he thinks for a moment, his hands not leaving your face.

"A…bear?"

"A bear. In Smallville, Kansas." You repeat.

"Clark go back to the party, I'm fine." But he doesn't budge.

"You walked away in tears. I don't mean to push but I don't think that means your fine."

"Clark please. I really don't want to talk about this. Just go back to the party and back to Lana." The last part comes out much more venemous than you intend.

The guilt hitting as soon as the words leave your mouth and the way Clark's face falls only makes it worse.

"What?" He asks and you feel bile rise up your throat.

"Nothing, forget I said anything." You mumble as you're able to get out of his hold. He grabs your wrist firmly, not in a way he could hurt you but in a way that tells you he isn't letting you run. Not this time.

"No. I won't."

"Clark." The tears in your eyes break his heart.

"I won't because you're upset and I know you think it's easier to push me away but I'm not going to let you this time." He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close enough to where you have to put your hands on his chest to steady yourself. His blue eyes silently begging you not to run anymore.

"Please honey, talk to me. I'm here. There's nothing you could say that I can't take."

"Sometimes I forget that you're more than just my Clark." You say quietly. Your eyes are trained on the top button of his shirt. On the tie that you helped straighten this morning that was now undone.

"It's so stupid and I hate that I feel this way but seeing you today, Seeing the way you looked at Lana…I don't know it was like I was…nothing." Clark nearly whimpers hearing you say that. Nothing? In what world could you ever be nothing to him.

"All day I've watched you fit back into Smallville like a puzzle piece. I don't. I get stares and whispers and-and people talking about how they thought you'd end up with someone else. It's like im the side character in some movie that gets tossed aside once the hero realizes they don't belong."

"Stop." Clark says firmly. He can't take it anymore.

"You are not nothing. You could never be nothing. Not to me, not to anyone. So please. Don't say that." He frowns as he sees your face tightens like it's trying not to cry.

"I am so sorry I didn't see you were hurting. That I made you feel like you don't belong in my life." His lip wobbles as he sees the hurt in your eyes. "Lana is in my past. It's been a long time since I've seen her and I was just surprised. I swear." His stomach twists remembering the look on your face.

Guilt eating him alive at the very thought that something he did could cause you so much pain. He should have stopped you from leaving right there in that barn but he was too shocked. Too confused by your sudden exit. Then he saw his Ma follow you outside and it made him relax just a little bite. Still he believes he's failed you by letting you think for even a moment he doesn't love you.

"I won't deny that I loved her a long time ago. But that's when I thought love was just butterflies in your stomach and holding hands." He explains. One of the greatest things about humanity is love. Clark learned that multiple times throughout his life.

"Don't get me wrong honey, you give me butterflies every day but I didn't understand what it truly felt like to love and be loved until I met you. I promise on every star in the sky that you're the only one I want."

"You just seem so happy here. So at peace. What if Smallville and…everything that comes with it is where you're meant to be. You could be Superman anywhere. So why Metropolis?"

"I'm happy because you're here with me. Because I get to share this part of my life with the love of my life. And why Metropolis? Because where else would I find a bossy photographer who makes me pancakes in the middle of the night?" He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your lips.

"Smallville is the place I grew up and I love it here, but you're my home now. Where ever you are is my home." He presses another kiss to the other corner.

"I'm sorry for letting you feel like you're not. Even if it was just for a second. I can't stand the thought of you not knowing how much you mean to me." He presses a final kiss to your lips.

It's gentle and loving and so careful and so Clark. You feel yourself relax into his embrace. You drop your shoes and tangle your hands in his hair. Ruining the slicked back hair he messed with all morning. He lets out a small relieved laugh when you part.

"It's not just your fault. I let the worst parts of my head get to me tonight when I should have just talked to you." You admit.

It's embarassing to face your worst parts head on. It's ugly and irrational and something you wish Clark never has to see again.

"Hey, I am always here to talk to. I love everything about you. The good parts and the not so good parts. You've seen both sides of me so please, trust that I can handle both parts of you too."

"Okay…Okay." You want to cry again. You were expecting the worst and here he comes to break every horrible thing your mind has already built up. He's too nice you swear it'd be annoying if you weren't so in love with him.

"I love you."

"I love you too."

"Now, let's get you home." He reaches down and grabs your shoes, holding them in one hand as he picks you up in his arms.

"But the reception Clark." He silences you with a look.

"Like I'd force you to go back in there with those vultures." He huffs, still upset at all the pointless town gossip.

"That's not very Supermany to say." You tease, used to his goody-two shoes attitude and he shrugs.

"They made you cry. If they apologize then maybe I'll consider taking it back." You bury your face in his neck, laughing as he walks you back home. Could he have used his powers to get you back faster? Yeah, but why would he when he could spend an extra 5 minutes with you in his arms.

The insecurities haven't gone away. In fact they'll probably live there for a while. But you don't have to fight them alone anymore. He can't fix it with his super speed or heat vision, but he can hold your hand and kiss you until your brain goes fuzzy.

There are 60 to 100 heartbeats in a minute, and in the elapsing of them, he hears every single one of yours in endured, melodic fashion. When the two of you pace the perimeter of your shared apartment, he relies on the metronomic passage of them to ground him in the moment. He uses it to luxuriate in the loveliness of your presence.

They document the moments enjoyed together as you rise in the early hours of morning for work—as the two of you return home to this safe haven—as you both make dinner crafted by combined efforts—as you return to bed to begin the cycle anew—

Your heartbeats demarcate every moment, lulling, encompassing—comforting. It reassures him that you are here, that you are with him. When he is summoned across the world to parts unknown for services yet rendered, if he focuses—

He can hear the rhythm of a heart that beats in anticipation for his return. And it reminds him of the necessity of his return.

And he appreciates it now, sonorous and mediated as you doze on the couch besides him. In the honeyed amber of this sterling moment, with soft dusky rays that stream through curtained window, with low ambience from the TV playing in soundtrack. Your heart sounds clear and true as it ever has, as he watches you sleep.

As he watches you in rest, the struggles of the day, the burdens of yesterday, and the promises of tomorrow vanished as you dream. You sit beside him but you are worlds away, the only piece of you tethered to him the pace of your heart.

You are so small in the vastness of the universe he is housed by, but contain multitudes that are so valuable to him beyond vocabulary. Beyond emotions.

He watches you sleep a moment longer before he turns back to the sluggish ticker-tape trail of the screen. Then it happens. Everything can endure in slow-motion to him, but he is distracted by the lull so it's less sluggish for him.

As you fall against the implacable slope of his shoulder in the doldrums of your sleep. As you take comfortable perch against him in the safest of havens—and he turns to look at you—

And your heartbeat, which is of invariable comfort to him, speeds up at the contact made between you. A sigh, tuneless and restful, hums through as you mumble something inaudible to anyone without accentuated sense—

"Love you, baby—"—You murmur through the veil of sleep—and then you are lost again, a quiet snore vocalized in addendum.

And your heartbeat restores back to homoestasis, reverberating in the walls that mark your home with him.

Clark doesn't realize the tender smile that breaks over his face as you recline on him. All he is aware of is the magnetic pull you draw him into, summoned into your orbit as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. Baptizing you with tangible enunciation of his fealty to you.

"Love you too, honey," he whispers. In answer, through the slumbering mists—the rhythm of your heart affirms the affection given. And all is well once more.

just needed a little pick-me-up to cheer myself up after yesterday, hope you all enjoyed :)

dividers and banners made by me :)

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