#stargazersims

A week of poor sleep, an even poorer meal schedule, and a complete absence of my supervised exercise routine haven’t done me any favours, and I forgot some doses of my medication along the way, which surely hasn’t helped either. I was so tired last night that I struggled to remember if I really had missed any, and ultimately ended up counting my pills and doing some mental math to determine whether or not I had. As it turned out, I’d missed three. I didn’t know exactly when, but I supposed it really made no difference. The result would’ve been the same.

This morning, I woke up in so much discomfort that I could barely move. I should’ve guessed it was ludicrously early, since the dogs hadn’t even stirred from their beds yet, but I glanced at my phone anyway. According to the clock on my lock screen, it was about ten minutes to five. On a typical day, I’d still be sleeping at this hour, but Victor would most likely be up, or at least awake and thinking about it. In a continuation of our odd new role reversal, he was dead to the world, sprawled on his back and snoring softly.

I lay perfectly still, trying will the twisting pain in my stomach to go away. Of course I knew it wouldn’t, nor would the heaviness and dull ache in all my joints, nor the feverish feeling in my brain. I groaned inwardly. The last thing I needed was a fever. That was almost always a sign of something bad happening inside me; a forerunner of days in which I’d be confined to my bed.

Far from showing any indication of subsiding, the cramp in my belly grew steadily worse the longer I lay there, until I had no choice but to get up. Gathering my willpower, I climbed off the mattress and stumbled my way to the bathroom as quickly as my shaky legs would allow.

For a few minutes, it was as if nothing existed for me except physical sensation. I could only feel the ache of my knees pressing into the hard bathroom floor tiles, the uncomfortable trickle of cold sweat down the center of my back, and the agony of my stomach attempting to turn itself inside out.

If hell is real, I thought, this would probably be one of the torments.

Eventually, my senses resurfaced, and I became aware of Victor’s voice. He sounded absolutely frantic.

I must’ve woken him up with my hasty exit, and realizing he was alone, he panicked. I could hear him calling for me, each repetition of my name louder and more urgent the longer I went without answering him. Unfortunately, I was literally incapable of replying at first, and I could only imagine what was going through his mind as he waited.

Once I caught my breath, I called out, “I’m okay!” but the assertion seemed ridiculous. Anyone looking at me slumped on the floor just then wouldn’t have said I was okay. But I suppose one might say 'okay' is a subjective term.

I hauled myself upright, using the edge of the sink for support, and then just stood there pulling together the shreds of my composure.

I’m standing on my own two feet. I’m okay.

“Talk to me, Yuri!” Victor’s voice was strained with anxiety, and seemed to be coming from much nearer than it should have been. “Talk to me, or I’m coming in there!”

“Everything’s fine,” I said. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

I washed my hands and face, took my medication, and then decided I’d better check my temperature, just in case. We have a digital thermometer which I like because it means I don’t have to hold a glass tube under my tongue for a full minute, and I can use it by myself without skewing the result.

My temperature was slightly elevated, but not enough to call a real fever, and I reasoned that it was likely nothing I should be alarmed about. I put the thermometer away, and then stepped out of the bathroom, intent on getting back into bed with my husband.

Evidently, I hadn’t been quick enough to suit Victor’s definition of an acceptable amount of time to be away from him or communicative enough to prevent him from coming to check on me. I found him in the hallway, shuffling on his knees with his fingers trailing lightly against the wall.

“Victor, what are you doing?”

“Coming to see if you’re okay,” he said. His tone somehow came off as simultaneously concerned and casual, as if he was signalling that he was worried enough about me to get out of bed on his own and also as if his peculiar method of locomotion was perfectly normal.

I’ll confess that I laughed. I couldn’t help it, despite it making my stomach hurt more.

“I told you I’m all right,” I said, even as I was pressing the palm of my hand against my belly.

“That’s not what it sounded like,” he said. “And why are you laughing? It’s not funny. I was really scared.”

“I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Next time, wake me up and tell me you’re getting out of bed.”

“And risk getting sick on you?" I responded. "We already tried that once, and you told me, no more throwing up in your bed.”

It was his turn to laugh, and I was grateful to see some of his tension seemed to fall away with it. “I never said that. I said it’d be nice if it never happened again, but you know I’m always prepared for the possibility.”

“Well, I don’t want it to happen again," I said. "It was mortifying.”

“You do know how to make an impression, Yuri-kun.”

“I love it when you use that honorific for me. And I really am fine.” I tried to sound as nonchalant as I could. “Now, how are we going to get you back to bed?”

“I’ll just go back the way I came,” he said. “I don’t think you should try to help me get up and walk.” And then, as if he was worried I thought he was trying to get out of it, he added hastily, “I can try walking a bit when Mom and Julian get here. Julian can help me.”

“Okay,” I said. “You have to practice for three minutes. That was the deal we made yesterday, remember?”

“Three today, four tomorrow, five the next day. You’ll have me doing a ten-kilometer circuit by the time this is over.”

“You can do that,” I said. “You and Seiji ran that distance last spring, didn’t you?”

“Sakura and Takeshi did it too. Sakura whipped our butts, and Takeshi made fun of us over it for weeks after.” He turned around awkwardly, and reached out to orient himself with the wall. “Okay, let’s go. You need to be in bed even more than I do right now.” He glanced over his shoulder. “And don’t you dare try to tell me again that you’re fine, 'cause I know perfectly well that you’re not.”

I should know better than to try to hide the truth from him, especially when it comes to my health. He always seems to know when I’m in pain, and often even to what degree. It’s an innate sense he has.

As usual, he wasn’t wrong about what I needed. I really did need more rest and so, unable to reasonably argue with him, I let him lead the way back to the dining room.

He literally flopped onto the mattress once he reached it, and let out a long moan that was equal parts fatigue and relief.

“Holy craaap… Why was that so hard? I’m totally done.”

“You’ve been in bed doing nothing for a week,” I pointed out. “Not to mention that you’re injured. Go easy on yourself.“

"Just thinking about that ten kilometer run,” he said.

“You’ll be able to do that again,” I assured him. “Maybe I’ll train for it with you.”

“How about I train you for a 5K walk instead? That’d be more realistic for both of us.”

“Realistic for you,” I said. “I wasn’t really serious.”

“I was.”

“Do you think I can actually walk five kilometers?” I asked, as I helped him get into a comfortable position. He ended up on his right side, with his arms supported on a pillow. “That seems like a lot for me.”

“Before yesterday, I’ll bet you thought climbing the stairs more than twice a day was a lot for you,” he remarked. “Don’t worry. We’ll slowly work up to it, and I guarantee you’ll be able to walk five kilometers by the summer.”

“Okay, but will I be functional afterwards?”

“You’ll be fine,” he said. “You can take as many breaks as you want along the way, and we’ll always have lots of water with us.”

“How long does it take to walk that far?” I asked.

“For me? Before, I could do it in under an hour,” he said. “I think your goal should be ninety minutes to start with, and maybe seventy-five by your birthday.”

“And what about your goal?”

“Under an hour, obviously,” he said. “But I’ll go at your pace when I’m with you.”

“Okay.”

“They have a 5K walk to raise money for the dog shelter in Maple Grove every summer. Maybe we can aim for that. Rosie and Sango could do it with us, and we can get all our friends to pledge. I’ll bet you’d get a lot of pledges just for making the effort, and me…” he grinned as he paused for effect. “I’m kind of a big deal in Maple Grove, so…”

I have to say, it was good to hear him talking about the future like that, being enthusiastic about fitness and making plans for things he might’ve said were impossible just days ago.

It’s strange, but all of a sudden that fundraising walk for the shelter became very important to me. I realized I wanted to do it more than anything. I wanted Victor to train me, and I wanted to walk the entire five kilometers from start to finish with him by my side. It may have been the first time in my life that I’d ever identified such a big and specific goal, and it felt… empowering.

“Let’s do it,” I said.

Victor seemed mildly surprised. “Really?”

"Assuming you think we should still move to Maple Grove after all.”

"What do you mean, after all?” he said. “Of course we’re going. I’m not about to miss my chance to live in a legit haunted house. Did I ever say I didn’t want to?”

“You did, actually,” I told him. “In the hospital.”

“I don’t remember that. I must’ve been delirious or something,” He wiggled his fingers playfully in my direction. “Me and Sachiko are gonna have so much fun. Like, forget Halloween, 'cause we're not gonna settle for one spooky day. We’re gonna have a spooky year.”

“What happened to being a mature and respectable adult?”

“Don’t tell me I said something about that too. I must've hit my head harder than anyone realized. Or are you just making stuff up now, because you know I can’t remember?”

“Would I do that?” I said.

He responded with a laugh. “Probably, if you thought you could get away with it.”

“I’ve missed hearing you laugh,” I told him.

“Did you?” He offered me a cheeky little smile. “I’ll bet I can guess something else you missed.”

“What—” I began

But I didn’t get to finish the question. He was already reaching toward me and looking like he was up to no good.

“Come here,” he said. “Let me rub your belly.”

“How are you going to do that?” I asked.

“Don’t ask questions. Just come here, and lay on your side.”

It took us a minute, but we arranged ourselves so that we were both on our side, with my back tucked against Victor’s chest. He stretched his left arm over the pillow, past both our heads, so he wasn’t lying on it. He draped his other arm over my side, and it was in the perfect position for his hand to touch my midsection with minimal effort.

I’d grown used to belly rubs that involved me lying on my back and him making big, firm circles with his entire palm, so it was odd to experience it in a new position. He couldn’t move his hand, but there was nothing impeding his fingers, so he massaged with smaller back-and-forth motions of his fingers pressed together. It was different, but wasn’t complaining. I knew he was trying his best, and it still felt good. More than anything, I’d missed his touch, and that was every bit as soothing as I needed.

I closed my eyes and tried to time my breathing to the rhythm of his movements. The real magic in a belly rub isn’t that it takes my pain away, but that it relaxes me so I can tolerate the sometimes excruciating cramping until the painkillers start to do their job. It can be a vicious cycle, with the pain making my body tense and the tension making the pain seem worse, but Victor is brilliant at helping me let it all go.

“Better?” he asked after a while.

“Mmm…” I replied with the little hum of affirmation I’d learned from him. “I thought you said you couldn’t take care of me.“

"Maybe I can, a little bit,” he said. “Did you take your meds?”

“Just the pain medication, not my regular ones. It’s too early for those just yet.”

“Okay, but don’t forget the regular ones when you finally get up. You forgot yesterday, didn’t you?”

“I think I might’ve forgotten on Thursday evening as well.”

“No more forgetting your pills,” he said. “If we’re gonna be mutually dependent or whatever, you’ve got to take care of yourself first. You can't take care of me if you're not well enough.”

“Is that what we’re going to do? Be mutually dependent?”

“Isn’t that what you want?” he asked.

“It is,” I confirmed. “I just didn’t think you’d get on board so easily.”

“Yeah, me either,” he admitted. “But I learned something yesterday, watching you work your butt off for me and not hearing you complain about a single thing.”

“Oh?”

“You’ve got a lot more strength than I’ve been giving you credit for,” he said. “I guess I got into the habit of thinking you were fragile, but you’re not. Like, not at all. I mean, you’ve got your limitations, but we all have those and… I don’t know. I guess what I’m saying is you impressed the hell out of me the last couple days, and I’m really sorry I misjudged you.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I don’t blame you for misjudging me. I didn’t think I could do it either, but I really wanted to do what I could for you, and I wanted you to give me the chance to try.”

“Not that we had a lot of options, but I’m glad I let you.”

“I’m glad you did, too.”

“You did good yesterday, but I don’t want you overdoing it,” he said. “You still have to look after yourself while you’re looking after me. I don’t want you getting so sick that Mom and Julian end up having to take care of both of us.”

“It’ll be easier once they’re here.”

“You can take breaks, and come cuddle with me.” He shifted slightly, and then I felt him kiss the back of my neck. “My hand’s getting tired. I’m going to stop, okay?”

“Okay,” I said.

“When do you have to be at the airport to pick up Mom and Julian?”

“Their flight is supposed to land at eleven o'clock.”

“Then, we have time to go back to sleep for a while.” He nuzzled me and brushed a few more feathery little kisses onto my neck. “Or do something else.”

“I don’t think either of us are in any shape to do anything else,” I said. “Also, I might need to help you shave later. I’m not sure I’d like you scratching me with your stubble when we do feel up to doing something.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “I probably can’t do much more than tease you at this point, and I know you wouldn’t enjoy it. I just missed the affection, that’s all.”

“Me too. When we’re both feeling better, we’ll be able to have some fun in bed,” I said. “But, regardless, I still think you need a shave.”

“Can’t wait,” he said. “For the fun in bed, I mean. I gotta seriously consider the whole shaving thing, though. I was thinking I might let my beard grow. Maybe it’ll come in silver like my hair.”

“It is coming in silver,” I said. “Haven’t you ever noticed the colour before?”

“I’ve never really paid attention to it, if you really wanna know. I just shave it off and forget about it. Anyway, you know I’m not good with details. That’s your job, to notice stuff I usually don’t even care about, like the colour of my beard hair, or whether or not my socks match, or whatever.”

“You don’t care if your socks don’t match?”

“I do, but having to think about details like that is hard. Why do you think I only had all grey socks when I first came here to live with you?”

“And yet, you can plan our menu for an entire week with the right amount of protein, fat and carbs for each of us. You can keep track of all my medical appointments, organize my medications for the whole month, and schedule your clients’ workouts and wellness sessions right down the minute without ever writing anything down. All that, but you had to buy seven identical pairs of grey socks because matching them is too hard?”

“Socks aren’t important. That other stuff is.”

“You’re going to be amazing, working in health care,” I said.

“Maybe I would’ve been.” He lifted his arm off me and rolled onto his back with a little sigh. “That plan’s probably gonna have to change. I don’t think I can do anything in health care if I can’t see, other than be a patient.”

“I wouldn’t write off your plans just yet. Why don’t we wait until Dr. Ishida sees you and we hear what she has to say? I’m going to call her on Monday. Hopefully she’ll be able to give you an appointment quickly, so we can get some answers.”

He was quiet for a handful of seconds, but finally ventured. “What are we going to do if she says the same thing as Dr. Nakayama?”

“I have a feeling she won’t, but if she does, then we’ll make a new plan, okay?” I rolled over too, so I wasn’t facing away from him, and got as close to his side as I could. “For now, it isn’t going to do you any good to worry about it.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“No matter what happens, we’ll get through it together,” I said. “There’s nothing we can’t handle as long as we’re together. Isn’t that what you’re always telling me?”

“Yeah,” he said. “You know what, though? I don’t know if I totally grasped how true that was until this week.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, there’s been times in our relationship when I felt like I was doing most of the heavy lifting, so to speak. Not that I minded, and not that I ever blamed you, but like… I didn’t realize the reason I was doing a lot was because I never really let you do much of anything. 'Cause I didn’t think you could. And it wasn’t because I thought less of you, but because I wanted to protect you from having to do stuff that might’ve been too hard for you.”

“I still love that you were doing it to protect me,” I said. “The result might not always have been great, but I know your heart was in the right place.”

“I’m going to work on trusting you more,” he said. “I know you can do hard stuff now. That you can protect me too.”

“If it really is something that’s too difficult for me, I’ll tell you,” I said. “Let me tell you. Don’t just assume.”

“I’ll do my best to remember,” he promised. “You know, you were right when you said it wasn’t fair that I didn’t want you to help me. I’m used to trying to be strong for everybody and taking care of everything, but maybe that’s not the way to go.”

“I’m glad you worked it out," I said. "I expect things will be different after this.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Because now I know we do need to handle stuff together. Really together.”

“I think we will, from now on,” I said.

“I think we definitely have to try, like you said, but you might have to remind me sometimes.”

“Kind of like how you have to remind me when I’m being too bossy?”

“Yeah, like that.”

“I can do that.”

“We’re gonna be a team,” he said, as if he’d had a sudden revelation about it. “Everybody has their position, their thing they’re best at, but nobody can win the game alone.”