#apendicitis

Why hadn’t he forced her to stay home?  They could have rescheduled.  They could have done this another night, any other night, and she could have rested, and…and…

…she would have been alone when she’d collapsed.  And it would have been worse, and he’d probably be beating himself up for an entirely different reason.

Still.

He should have insisted they stay in.  Rescheduled.  It was just a date.  Just…

You wanted this as much as she did and you both know it, a tiny voice in his head reminded him, because had suggested it.  Rescheduling.  And she had fought him, nearly bringing herself to tears because she had thought he had meant cancel.  He swallowed and reached for her hand, worry and guilt creasing his brow.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“You didn’t tell my appendix to rupture,” she said.  He squeezed her hand, swallowing.

“It didn’t rupture,” he said, because that was very important.  The nurse had been adamant about how important that was – how good it was he had gotten her here as quickly as he had.  Because it hadn’t ruptured…yet.  “That’s why you’re going into surgery as soon as your parents get here, remember?  Because it did not rupture.”

…their date would have been so much worse if it had.

“We never even made it to dinner,” she sighed, her eyes closing.  “I owe you so much for this.”

“Stop that,” he said, scooting his chair closer to her bed.  “You didn’t do this on purpose.  And this…this is a fluke, Mari.  This means nothing.  As soon as you’re better, we’re rescheduling.”

“Feels like déjà vu,” she sighed.  Her eyes closed as she sank back into the bed.  “Couldn’t finish a date last time, either.”

“It’s not the same,” he said, his voice hard.  “It’s not.  Marinette, please don’t think…this is just bad timing.”

“We always have bad timing,” she groaned.  A little whimper escaped her, and she curled in around herself as another wave of pain hit her.  “We’re jinxed.  Doomed.  Cursed.”

“We are not,” he insisted.  “Marinette.  You…you still want to go out with me, right?  You want to reschedule, right?”

It had been a long time since…he had just started to accept that they’d never be more than what they were – really good friends – when she had stormed into his berth, nearly in tears, and declared she couldn’t do this anymore.  She loved him – still, always, forever – and hated that he didn’t know it.  That she wasn’t allowed to act on it.  And sure, he’d probably moved on and wasn’t interested anymore, but she had to tell him that – and that had been about as far as he’d let her get before he’d kissed her, because holy shit that was everything he’d ever wanted to hear.

There had been…a lot that they’d needed to talk about, but at the end of the day none of it really seemed to matter anymore.  He already knew her secrets, and thanks to his time on the road with Jay (and a certain monk that he still wanted to kick more times than not) he felt better prepared to protect them.  To protect her.  And she had still been nervous – she’d been guarding those secrets for so long now, and the idea that she didn’t have to do it alone anymore…

They hadn’t broken up because they’d wanted to, before.  A lack of love and commitment had never been their problem.  Balance and timing, maybe, but they were older now.  They had both grown.  Balance was…easier.  Usually.

Though it seemed timing was still out to get them…

“I want Luka,” she whimpered, pain flashing across her face again.  “He’s gon’ be ssso…” her voice was slurring, then cut off completely with another whimper.  “Worried…”

…yeah, he was.

But she was going to be fine.

As soon as Tom and Sabine got there, the doctors would take Marinette into surgery and she’d be fine.  If she could just wait…

She had collapsed on their way to the restaurant.  That he’d actually made reservations at, because it wasn’t technically their first date, but it still kind of was, and he’d wanted it to be special.  Memorable.  He’d wanted to show her he was serious, that the bullshit didn’t matter and he wasn’t running away this time.

…she was definitely going to remember it, that was for sure.

“I’m right here, beautiful,” he said, kissing the back of her hand.  He wondered if she felt it, through the tape holding her IV down.  “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Hurts…” she whimpered.

“I know,” he said.

He hoped her parents got there soon.  The staff had had trouble reaching them – something about a car accident near the bakery and a downed line making cell service spotty, and it was late enough that he wasn’t sure if the landline at the bakery would be switched off for the night.  They had reached them, though.  Because he’d been able to reach Juleka, and she had rushed over to tell them, and they’d be there as soon as they could.

They would be.

And if Marinette took a turn before then…the doctors would make sure she was fine.  He knew they would.  But she was still just young enough that her parents had to give the ok first, and unless she was critical the doctors were going to honor that.

…he understood.  He did.  He still thought it was bullshit.

She groaned again, her bleary eyes blinking open.  It took her a moment to focus on him, and he wondered if it was the pain or the drugs and how many of him she was actually seeing.  He kissed the back of her hand again – a little higher this time, so he could know she would feel it – and a tired smile curled her lips.

“Look…at it this way,” she said, her voice still groggy but sounding easier than a moment before.  He hummed, brushing his thumb over her fingers, and she sighed as she settled back into the bed.  “Gonna be a hell of a story for the kids someday.”

…kids.

Kids?

…kids.

A choked laugh was startled out of him, but it had nothing on the booming laugh that barked out behind them.  He jumped, squeezing her fingers as he turned to see Tom, Sabine, and Juleka standing behind them.  Tom was still laughing, looking like Christmas had come early (and maybe it had), and while it was more reserved there was still a smile on Sabine’s face, too.  Juleka…Juleka looked like she had just gotten her blackmail for the next few years, though he wasn’t sure if she was planning on lording it over him, Marinette, or both of them.

“That’s right, mon choux!” Tom laughed, walking over to the head of the bed and clapping a hand on Luka’s shoulder.  He bent down to press a kiss to her forehead, and she smiled at the touch.  “The kids will love this story!”  He looked up at Sabine, his grin growing, and whispered: “Did you hear that, Sabine?  Kids – plural!”

“She’s always wanted plural, dear,” Sabine said, her voice entirely too calm for the way it made heat crawl up Luka’s neck.

“So gross,” Juleka muttered, shaking her head – but Luka noticed she was smiling, too.

…he had to smile, too.  Just a bit.  Despite the worry still swirling in his gut.  Despite everything.