Three Couples, Six People, Many Songs(#16&17)
Song #16 - One Week by Bare Naked Ladies
Misty stormed up to the third floor of the rather tiny, but cozy nonetheless, town-house that she and Brock co-owned. "BROCK!" She yelled as she reached the top stair and then marched her way to their room. As she had suspected, her husband lay fast asleep on their bed. "Argh! Brock!" She shook him violently, waking him up in an instant.
"Wha?" He squinted up at her, then closed his eyes and yawned.
"You were supposed to be ready by the time I got back. We have a plane to catch!" She groaned, then looked around, searching for his suitcase. "Did you at least pack?"
The very scared expression on his face told her that he hadn't.
"Brock! I can't trust you with anything, can I? How on earth did you take care of your siblings? Come on, up! Go take a shower, and I'll pack." She hurried over to his closet and started to search for clothes that he could take. "It's *your* little sister's wedding that we're going to. I can't believe you forgot."
Brock simply shrugged and shuffled his way to the bathroom. He knew Misty was just over-reacting. She'd had a hard week at work and she tended to show her stress through being a little too controlling. They had an hour till they had to leave for the airport, and he hadn't *forgotten* about the wedding; he had overslept.
By the time he was done taking a shower, and dressed. misty had finished packing for him and made breakfast. Keeping his amusement hidden, Brock sat down and ate quietly, sneaking glances at Misty every now and then. He would apologize later, when she had calmed down. Maybe if the wedding softened her up a bit, he could treat her to some sort of dinner. Maybe. It would blow over on its own anyway.
On the plane, Misty finally just let loose and sank into her chair. Brock noticed that she had calmed down, and he leaned over and kissed her on her cheek. She automatically smiled, but then remembered that morning and glared at him. He grinned back, and she turned to stare out of the airplane window, for Brock had surrendered the window-seat to her.
Smiling to himself, Brock picked up the magazine he had brought and started to flip through it. By the time they got back to their hometown, Misty would have calmed down a bit. Or at least, she would get distracted by the wedding. Brock was sure of it. He'd known Misty for over a decade, and he knew her like he knew no one else.
----------- Song #17 - I Swear by All 4 One
Brock whistled as he walked up to the door, fumbling through his pockets for the key. Upon finding it, he commenced whistling "Joy to the World". Bursting into the house, "Honey, I'm home"!, he danced his way up the stairs to the kitchen counter, where he set down the bag of groceries he had picked up, and his briefcase.
Normally, Misty would be cooking, or watching TV, or working on something. Basically, she would be on the second floor doing *something*. /Hm, maybe she's taking a nap.../ Brock put a damper on his energy and quietly made his way up the stairs and into their bedroom. "Misty?" At first, he was smiling, for he expected to find her sleeping or reading. But then, the smile faded and gave way to shock, for she was curled up in the big rocking chair, hugging her knees to her chest and crying.
When was the last time he saw Misty cry...? She was the strong one. She had been there when Brock's mother had finally died from cancer, leaving Brock as the definite head and care-taker of the family. She had helped him figure out what to do with his siblings, the youngest currently in high school. She had been the reason that Brock had not collapsed under the stress of taking care of so many younger people, and the grief of having lost the only parent he had really known.
And now... Now Misty was crying. What could have pushed her that far over the edge...?
She noticed him, and she looked at him with her blood-shot eyes. "Brock..." Her voice was hoarse, and she turned away from him, ashamed for him to see her like that.
Immediately, he rushed to her side, hovering over her. "What's wrong, Mist?"
This only sent her into another round of crying as she clung onto Brock. Frantic and incredibly worried, Brock lifted her out of the chair and sat down on the edge of the bed with her in his lap, crying into his shirt.
"Brock..." she finally said again, after her sobs had subsided and she had taken a moment to regain her composure. "I'm going to die."
"No," Brock said simply, refusing to believe that he had heard her correctly. "I mean, everyone's going to die someday, but we're going to grow old together. We're going to die together."
"Well you'll get better. If it'll be costly, we'll find the money. We will grow old together." He held her tightly, scared that if he let her go, she would get worse and die before he could do anything.
"I have cancer."
"Brock...?" Her voice was small, lost. Like a frightened child, scared that she had angered a parent, she curled up more in Brock's arms. Hoping that maybe by not looking directly at him, everything would be okay again. Except it wouldn't be better, it would never be the same again.
"That's impossible. I mean... No. This just can't be happening." His grip on her loosened, and she almost started to slip out of his lap, but then he snapped out of his shock and held her tighter. "A-Are you sure?"
"Yes. It's going to spread, Brock. I know it is... I could see it in their eyes; they know I'm going to die." She buried her face in his chest. "You don't deserve this, Brock... First your mother, now me..."
What were the odds? What were the f*cking odds? He gently rocked Misty in his arms, trying to calm her. Now it was his turn to be strong for her. He would take care of her, he would stay by her side just like he had stayed by his mother's side as much as he could. Except he would do even better for Misty. "I love you." He whispered, trying to hold back his own tears. Strong for Misty. He had to be strong for Misty, and that meant she couldn't see him cry. She couldn't see how much this was hurting him. And somewhere inside of him, he was holding onto the hope that Misty would get better. That the cancer wouldn't spread. That happened to many people. The first tumor was removed and that was it. Maybe she would have to do some chemotherapy, no problem. But everything was gonna be okay.
Everything always turned out okay.
"Does anyone else know?" He asked her, and she nodded.
"I called Ash... He's on his way over. I tried to call my sisters, but I think they've traveled. And I couldn't reach you either..." She looked up at him, daring to look into his eyes again. "I'm sorry Brock, I'm so sorry-"
"No. It's not your fault. It is not your fault." He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. "I love you, Misty. Everything's going to be okay."
She wanted to disagree. She wanted to burst his bubble and tell him that everything really wasn't going to be okay. That she was going to die and leave him a widower before he was even forty. But she couldn't. She couldn't find it in her heart to do that to him. "I love you too."
After she cried herself to sleep, Brock tucked her into bed, and then made his way to the first floor, where he waited for Ash. Sad that they were meeting again under those circumstances, but grateful for each other, they both vowed to take care of Misty, to do whatever they could to make sure she grew old, like she was supposed to.
Or at least... to make sure however much longer she had to live, was good.
That night, Brock cried himself to sleep. A dark thought that he never wished to cross his mind again, popped up. He could leave Misty. He could find someone who was healthy, and he could start over. But no. He loved her, and he would stay with her for as long as was possible.
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