3.1. "The greater your capacity to love, the greater your capacity to feel the pain."
Jennifer Aniston
Co-written with
doesntwaltz[Follows
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Rob felt like a piece of shit, but he didn't care. The medic had said he could get out of bed to make a phone call if he was up to it. It wasn't a question of whether he was up to it. It wasn't a question of any-fucking-thing except he was being offered a phone call and he was damn well taking it. He had help from one of the female medics to actually get to the phone, and he was now standing there in the infirmary gown with his camo shirt draped around his shoulders like a pseudo-bathrobe just to try and keep some modesty. He was hunched over, one hand on his sore stomach and his shoulder resting against the wall as he held the phone between his ear and shoulder to slowly dial the number in. In the crook of his arm, the IV pole was tucked and he knew he must look like a right pathetic sight, but again, he didn't care. He owed his friend, Pete, bucketloads of gratitude for emailing Leila. The thing was, he hadn't had any way of really knowing if she received it because she couldn't actually reply to the email address Pete used. It was frustrating. Rob just had to have some faith that she got it and wasn't sitting back there worrying that he'd been killed.
He rested his hot forehead against the cool steel barrier that was there to give anyone using the phone some privacy and listened as the line started ringing. He really, really hoped she was home to pick up. He couldn't call a cell phone from this line, landline only. He prayed silently that she wasn't at work, swallowing to wet his parched throat and hoping that shot they gave him worked long enough to prevent him throwing up for the duration of the phone call. If she picked up, that is. He couldn't be sure, though. He still felt distinctly sick in the stomach, but it was probably just because he was standing up.
Leila picked up the phone, covered in cookie batter after she'd been trying to bake for the last few hours. It had been something she hadn't done in years, but the waiting was driving her crazy. The email had helped to stop her thinking the worst had happened, it just didn't stop her still worrying about Rob. He was sick and she couldn't help. As someone who had only just found the person they loved, and had even married them, Leila was finding it hard not to fret. She was doing things she had never done in years instead of bad habits that involved drinking, sleeping around, and moving to another city.
She was still at Luke's while waiting for the approval to go through for her and Rob's new home, the apartment the perfect pick and one she'd stumbled across. She'd sent Rob photos but he obviously hadn't gotten them having fallen ill after being in communicado for a couple weeks anyway. Without even thinking that someone could have been ringing Tab, or Luke, she just answered with the person foremost on her mind. "Rob?"
Rob felt the breath rush out of him in relief, not even realising that he had been holding it while he waited for her to answer. "Leila," he said, the word coming out like a breathless gasp of awe that she had even picked up. Then he was hit with something that really took him off guard and he wasn't used to experiencing - he wanted to cry. "Hey, I missed you," he told her, choking up and gripping the phone to his ear in lieu of being able to hug her.
Leila's throat felt like a massive lump had lodged in her throat at the sound of his voice, tears filling her eyes as she wanted to cry knowing he was crying. "Oh, God, Rob... Shit. I'm sorry, I don't meant to... It's hearing you..." She sniffed loudly, her head falling into her hand as she tried to stem the flow of emotion so she didn't spend the whole call crying. She had no idea how much time they had. Military calls were probably just as timed as their goodbyes. "Missed you, too. So fucking much."
Rob really did try to just put it down to him being run down with this weird thing he had managed to catch. He wasn't usually the crying sort, you couldn't be when you were fighting in a war. That feeling you wanted to definitely caught in your throat sometimes, but to him it was usually a private thing, something to do behind closed doors and not in anyone's presence. But this was all different and hearing her voice without being able to touch her hurt. He kept his head dipped close to the wall, but didn't initially try to stop the tears. He just awkwardly brushed them away with his fingers, almost tipping the IV pole in the process. "It's okay... it's okay, darlin', I promise," he tried to reassure her, his voice hoarse from the emotion and his strained throat. "Are you okay? How have you been? Are you..." He had to paused, wanting to immediately throw a whole bunch of questions at her about how she was and if she had been okay, but he stopped. That was stupid. "It's so good to hear your voice," he settled on instead, pressing his lips together as the tears threatened to come thicker and faster, but then he wouldn't be able to talk.
Leila laughed a little through the tears, and pushed her glasses back up onto her head so she could wipe the tears away. She hugged herself in the absence of having Rob to hug, her thumb rubbing against her wedding band. "I was going to ask you the same thing. I got the email from your friend. Have you worked out what you have? Are you okay? Are they taking care of you? I'm okay. Promise. I'm just... I've been worried, and it's hard not to be. I've been baking." The last part she sad as if she was admitting some terrible secret.
Rob had to laugh too, the tension slipping away a little at just being able to communicate with her. "I'm sorry. I know it's gotta suck. I got sent right into it. I wouldn't recommend watching the news, because that's what I'm involved in. Or was involved in, rather. I've been staying in a tent, things have been rough. Then I just woke up feeling horrible the other morning. Me and six other guys all had it in different stages. Contaminated water, maybe. Intelligence thinks it might have even been some sort of poison. I'm in the infirmary for a couple of days. I'm okay..." His forehead creased and he laughed softly again. "Okay, right now, I'm not really but I'm getting treatment. Just feeling real sick and weak. Baking? Is that one of those evil things you only do when you have absolutely nothing else to do?" he asked, smiling to himself.
Leila had a sudden urge to switch on the TV and watch the news, but she knew it was just morbid curiousity. Rob had to be right. She wouldn't want to see it. She'd just wind up thinking he was probably going to die at every turn. "Wait, what? Poison? As in on purpose poison? Jesus... What happened to just digging a trench and using guns? I wish I was there. Well, not there, but I wish I was just with you to make you feel better. I can't believe you're stuck over there feeling like shit and alone." Leila cleared her throat, feeling herself blush a little. "Yeah, it is. I've been trying to make biscuits all day. Well, cookies as the Americans call them. I've burned them, underbaked them, and pretty much covered the kitchen with the mixture."
"Well, I ain't just a frontline fighter. I'm a sniper. Goes above and beyond a lil bit. Now I'm making myself sound like Buzz Lightyear. It's just that they can trace a link between where me and the others were and there are some patterns there. They ain't sure it's so innocent. Not much really is in war. Once I can be upright for longer than half an hour without puking, I'll probably end up right back where I was. I wish you were with me too. I ain't been able to stop thinking about you, darlin'. It's been keeping me sane." Rob smirked a little. "I'm supposed to be all tough, you know. Bit of a stomachache and I'm wanting to come home." It was very much an exaggeration of his condition, but he didn't want to spook her. "Ah, see, this is why you ain't supposed to bake it, just eat it right out of the bowl."
"Can't stop thinking about you either," Leila murmured into the phone. She moved to sit down, curling up into a tight ball. "Even if you are Buzz Lightyear. I know you said you wouldn't always be in contact... it's just hard. I keep sending you emails, so I think you'll be spammed by me once you do open your inbox. I send you something every time I wish I could just tell you in person. I want you to come home... only I'm not supposed to. I signed up for this. I thought I was stronger." Leila smirked. "If you were here you'd be able to lick it off me. I'm covered in it, too."
Rob shook his head slowly. "It ain't about strength, darlin'. It's more than that. I don't doubt for a single minute you aren't strong. But I know what you're dealing with, too. Ain't no right or wrong way to process it and wait it out. Are you sure you're okay? Maybe you could stay with someone for a lil while?" He had to stop talking for a few moments when his stomach turned over and he feared he was going to be sick again. He swallowed heavily, his hand curling around the bag the medic had tucked into his pocket just in case, but it seemed to be a false alarm for now. He still took a few deep breaths to try and help, though. "Screwed up part is, if I was much worse in my condition, they could have sent me home. Ironic. I'm not dying enough. You ain't a very neat cooker, are you?" he said, laughing and enjoying hearing her talk about things that felt like a million miles from here.
Leila nodded even though he couldn't see her. "Yeah, I'm okay. I'm just having one of those times. If I hear from you I can trick myself into thinking you're close. The last couple weeks has just been hard. You have to thank Pete for me, okay? He saved my sanity. I could stay with Luke again, but that means going to Princeton. I can't keep asking him back here. I'm just waiting on the bank so we can have our place, and then I can move in there. I don't really want to crash at Andy's while he's busy getting busy with Ali again. They've had enough interruptions. You're not dying enough? Well, that's a fucking up diagnosis. And no, I'm really not. I'm quite a messy cook. I love making the dishes, but I hate doing them."
"But they offered, didn't they? People ain't usually offering help if they don't want you to take it, darlin'. I wish you didn't have to be alone. I'd give anything to be back there with you." Rob closed his eyes for a few moments, wetting his lips as he continued to control his breathing. "Pretty fucked up, hey? Kinda feel like I'm dying enough right now. It's a miracle I ain't being sick. Can't promise I won't before the conversation is out, either. The conditions I've been in, makes it easy for a body to get hit hard with stuff like that. Hygiene and stuff ain't much of a priority. So, who is going to all eat the wonderful baking you've been doing? I bet I can think of a couple of cousins who'd like it."
"Think if I sacrifice some cookies to the powers that be that they'd let you come home?" Leila asked in a small voice. She just wanted him there. She picked up one of the sofa cushions and hugged it tight. "You can't do that! You just can't, because then I'm going to want to be there even more, and it's not fucking fair hearing you suffer when I can't do a bloody thing about it. So you just suck it up, soldier. So no sexy male medics there to give you sponge baths? I'm thinking it'll be the cousins. Otherwise I'll pickle it all for when you come home."
Rob laughed softly. "Not for the minor fact of me sacrificing my cookies around every half hour to match the fever. If your cookies took off a leg, then they might consider it," he joked, trying to cheer her up just a little. "I'll try not to. It might resort to me asking you to hum The Simpsons theme or something as distraction. If a sexy male medic wanted to sponge me down, I'd be getting mighty worried. Pickled cookies? Oh, you know how to tease a guy's gag reflec, don't you?" he said with a smirk.
Leila managed to laugh, even if it was punctuated by a sniff as she tried to stop herself tearing up again. "Yeah, I do. Consider it a distraction. I'll be sure to make you non-pickled cookies when you get home. You can witness exactly how messy I can be in the kitchen. I'll hum anything you want me to, baby. I'd do anything for you. You know that right? Whatever you need... Well, whatever I can give you from here."
Rob pressed his lips together, closing his eyes again. "Yeah, I know, darlin'," he whispered to her down the phone, his grip tightening around the receiver. "You can give me everything, you already have. When I get back, I'll make it all up to you. We'll go on that trip, and make up for all this lost time. I promise, anything you want to do, we can do."
"Right now I just want to be lying with you in bed. Naked." Leila took a deep breath, and tilted her head back so she didn't exhale straight into the phone. "I'm going to get us a new bed with the comfiest damn sheets known to man."
Rob tried to loose himself in picturing that and feeling that, and he made a small humming noise of agreement. "Far cry from a portable camp bed and scorching heat. I've almost forgotten what a mattress feels like. I'm jealous I don't get to come bed shopping with you, but I'll trust your judgement." He cleared his throat softly. "I think I have to go, darlin'. I'm starting to feel really sick again and you're right, I don't want you to have be on the receiving end of hearing me throwing up. I just needed to hear your voice. Just thinking about you has kept me together these last few days."
"I'll make sure it's a good bed. Might be another thing I drag Lulu out for." Leila tried not to feel too disappointed. Rob was sick so she couldn't really argue with him needing to go. "Okay, Littlerock. You just try and take care of yourself as best you can. I hope you feel better soon. I'll be here whenever you need me and my voice."
"I'll try and call again soon," Rob promised, nursing his stomach through the gown. "But if I don't, it ain't a bad thing, okay? Means I'm fine and I've gone back to work. I never stop thinking about you, okay? No matter what. Don't eat all those cookies on your own or you'll never want to see another one again," he added with a smile. "I love you, darlin'."
"Plus I'll get all fat," Leila laughed. "Okay, I won't fear the worst if you don't call. I'll just fear the worst when a military car pulls up out the front. I love you too, Littlerock. I don't ever stop thinking about you, either. I miss you."
Rob had to wince at her comment, immediately praying she never had to experience that, no matter what. "Speak soon," he promised, brushing his thumb against the receiver as he yearned to hold her again. He had to hang up before he started to give into the tears again. Now he just had to get back to his bed without passing out or throwing up. As soon as he hung up, he already missed her so much his gut hurt for a whole different reason.
All muses referenced with permission and are from the
princeton2nyc universe
Word Count | 2,818