musesandlyrics | 3.3. Garth Brooks quote
3.3. "Happiness isn't what you want, it's wanting what you've got."
Garth Brooks
Co-written with a68whiskey
"How do you even still have a liver left?"
Rob's forehead creased as he wiped his mouth on some tissues, looking up in the direction of the voice with a small cough. "Fucking hell," he said hoarsely, awed to see his old friend approaching his infirmary bed with a smirk. It kind of sucked to be caught in the elegant position of post-puke, but the sick feeling gave way to a weak grin at the familiar face. "Dude, what the fuck?"
Mike grabbed a chair from by the door of the ward and brought it over to Rob's bedside, sitting down. "You must have the worst fucking luck on the planet, man," he commented. "Ain't even got a decent bullet wound to show off and keep ya' stuck in this place. I brought you in by chopper. You were too busy hurling your guts up to realise it was me. Thought I better sacrifce some of my lunch break to come make sure ya' hadn't deceased on me. Lucky I ain't the squeamish sort or you'd be putting me right off my ration of... something brown and squishy. Bonus, though, actually got a mini Mars Bar today. How ya' feeling, dude?"
"Shit, hey," Rob returned with a small laugh. "I ain't even realised you were posted here. I mean, I knew you were here, just ain't realised it was at this base. Sorry 'bout the ignorance in the chopper. Ain't quite deceased, but felt like I wanted to be for a bit there. I'm on the mend, just still feeling a bit touch and go. Fever's gone. If it stays that way for the next forty eight hours, I should be right. Hate being out of action, you know? Feel useless, and over just a lil fever thing. But you know what? It was worth it. Got to speak to my girl which I couldn't have done if I was still out there. Probably would do it all over again to hear her voice even for just a lil bit," he admitted.
Mike's eyebrows shot up. "Your gal?" he asked, intrigued. "Thought ya' were getting a divorce, dude. I got ya' email about all the shit ya' went through with ya' ex, and I couldn't believe it. Just didn't have time to write back before ya' got shipped out yourself. Bitch deserves to get her own back, man. Please don't tell me ya' went back to her. Don't make me slap ya' around, dude. I like you too much for that."
Rob held up his hand and reached to discard the soiled sick bag into the trash left near his bed for that purpose. The medics were good, things were usually cleaned away and disposed quickly. "Divorce was signed, sealed and delivered. Not a moment too soon, either. She tried to play nasty, too, to get more outta me. Bit hard for me to have knocked her up though when I ain't even got my dick anywhere near her for longer than a pregnancy gestation." He looked at Mike hesitantly. "I, uh... I got remarried."
Mike's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Holy shit, dude. You're a fast operator! How long were you divorced before you got hitched again? Can't have been that long. The divorce wasn't through when you wrote me that email. What, was it a love at first sight thing? Oh wait, you didn't knock her up, did you? Trying to do the chivalrous Robbo thing and wed her because it's the right thing to do?"
Rob weakly flipped his friend off. "It was a couple of days," he admitted sheepishly. "I got my divorce through the day I got the call for deployment again. I guess I kinda panicked, but when I met her, I fell really hard. And no, I ain't knocked her up. I might not have had a decent fuck in a long time before I met her, but I didn't forget how to use birth control. I don't know if I believe in love at first sight, but it was definitely an attraction. My mate decided I needed to get out on the town and find a good fuck. I guess I was kinda looking to pull, but when I met her, I kinda forgot about that. It wasn't about that anymore. We just clicked, and she's gorgeous, dude. She's like... perfect. I just couldn't get enough of her. It was this intense thing where we were just wrapped up in each other totally and it might not have been love at first sight, but I think it was shortly after. I thought I had more time, though. But I got called, and I was terrified if I left and something happened, she wouldn't get notified, and she would be left hanging. I wanted her to know I would come back to her, and I didn't know any other way to show her, so I proposed. And while I think we were both nervous and a lil scared, we went to Vegas and just did it. The day after, I shipped out. I just didn't want to lose her, man. It just felt like she completed me after trying to search for so long for just a lil bit of happiness."
Mike was listening closely to all of Rob's heartfelt words, a tiny frown on his forehead as he did. Like a good friend, he politely ignored the fact Rob was becoming emotional, but if he wanted to bawl his eyes out, of course Mike would offer a pat on the back and a kleenex. "That's real admirable, dude," he said quietly. "You have some balls, I'll give you that. You just... reached out and took what you wanted, knowing it might have all blown up in your face. So, what's your sweetheart's name? How is she holding up? You thrust her into the Army wife realm without much notice, dude. Aren't you... worried about her waiting for you?"
"Leila," Rob replied with a tired smile, unable to stop his thoughts turning to her. "She's Aussie. Got these real possessive cousins, but I've managed to escape unscathed from them. I don't think they were really sure how to take me at first, and vice versa. One of them owns this hot bar in New York called The Bondi, which is where Leila works. It's where I met her." He paused for a moment, and shifted a little in the bed. "Yeah, of course I worry 'bout that. A lot. I ain't wanting her over there alone and having this all hanging over her like a dark cloud. It makes me feel sick thinking about it, and I miss her like crazy. But... well... I love her, dude. I love her and I didn't want to lose her. I gave her the choice, and she took it. It had to be her choice. She's sacrificing for me, not the other way 'round. But I needed her to know I would do anything for her."
Mike was silent, looking down at Rob's hand which was understandably devoid of his wedding ring. You couldn't wear rings in combat, too much risk of getting fingers ripped off, or worse. Damnit. Eight months of putting it all out of his mind, and Rob manages to drag it all back up just from being a romantic, a good guy, doing the right thing. He didn't even realise that he was sacrificing for his wife, just that she was sacrificing all for him. "You're a good man, Robbo. I'm proud to be your friend," he told him quietly and then held out his hand. "Congratulations, dude. Next time, I want an invite to the wedding or I'll smash your fucking face in."
Rob laughed and shook his friend's hand, oblivious to Mike's silent, internal struggle. "There won't be a next time, dude. Leila's my One. I just know it."
Leila is doesntwaltz and referenced with and permission
Word Count | 1,320
Garth Brooks
Co-written with a68whiskey
"How do you even still have a liver left?"
Rob's forehead creased as he wiped his mouth on some tissues, looking up in the direction of the voice with a small cough. "Fucking hell," he said hoarsely, awed to see his old friend approaching his infirmary bed with a smirk. It kind of sucked to be caught in the elegant position of post-puke, but the sick feeling gave way to a weak grin at the familiar face. "Dude, what the fuck?"
Mike grabbed a chair from by the door of the ward and brought it over to Rob's bedside, sitting down. "You must have the worst fucking luck on the planet, man," he commented. "Ain't even got a decent bullet wound to show off and keep ya' stuck in this place. I brought you in by chopper. You were too busy hurling your guts up to realise it was me. Thought I better sacrifce some of my lunch break to come make sure ya' hadn't deceased on me. Lucky I ain't the squeamish sort or you'd be putting me right off my ration of... something brown and squishy. Bonus, though, actually got a mini Mars Bar today. How ya' feeling, dude?"
"Shit, hey," Rob returned with a small laugh. "I ain't even realised you were posted here. I mean, I knew you were here, just ain't realised it was at this base. Sorry 'bout the ignorance in the chopper. Ain't quite deceased, but felt like I wanted to be for a bit there. I'm on the mend, just still feeling a bit touch and go. Fever's gone. If it stays that way for the next forty eight hours, I should be right. Hate being out of action, you know? Feel useless, and over just a lil fever thing. But you know what? It was worth it. Got to speak to my girl which I couldn't have done if I was still out there. Probably would do it all over again to hear her voice even for just a lil bit," he admitted.
Mike's eyebrows shot up. "Your gal?" he asked, intrigued. "Thought ya' were getting a divorce, dude. I got ya' email about all the shit ya' went through with ya' ex, and I couldn't believe it. Just didn't have time to write back before ya' got shipped out yourself. Bitch deserves to get her own back, man. Please don't tell me ya' went back to her. Don't make me slap ya' around, dude. I like you too much for that."
Rob held up his hand and reached to discard the soiled sick bag into the trash left near his bed for that purpose. The medics were good, things were usually cleaned away and disposed quickly. "Divorce was signed, sealed and delivered. Not a moment too soon, either. She tried to play nasty, too, to get more outta me. Bit hard for me to have knocked her up though when I ain't even got my dick anywhere near her for longer than a pregnancy gestation." He looked at Mike hesitantly. "I, uh... I got remarried."
Mike's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Holy shit, dude. You're a fast operator! How long were you divorced before you got hitched again? Can't have been that long. The divorce wasn't through when you wrote me that email. What, was it a love at first sight thing? Oh wait, you didn't knock her up, did you? Trying to do the chivalrous Robbo thing and wed her because it's the right thing to do?"
Rob weakly flipped his friend off. "It was a couple of days," he admitted sheepishly. "I got my divorce through the day I got the call for deployment again. I guess I kinda panicked, but when I met her, I fell really hard. And no, I ain't knocked her up. I might not have had a decent fuck in a long time before I met her, but I didn't forget how to use birth control. I don't know if I believe in love at first sight, but it was definitely an attraction. My mate decided I needed to get out on the town and find a good fuck. I guess I was kinda looking to pull, but when I met her, I kinda forgot about that. It wasn't about that anymore. We just clicked, and she's gorgeous, dude. She's like... perfect. I just couldn't get enough of her. It was this intense thing where we were just wrapped up in each other totally and it might not have been love at first sight, but I think it was shortly after. I thought I had more time, though. But I got called, and I was terrified if I left and something happened, she wouldn't get notified, and she would be left hanging. I wanted her to know I would come back to her, and I didn't know any other way to show her, so I proposed. And while I think we were both nervous and a lil scared, we went to Vegas and just did it. The day after, I shipped out. I just didn't want to lose her, man. It just felt like she completed me after trying to search for so long for just a lil bit of happiness."
Mike was listening closely to all of Rob's heartfelt words, a tiny frown on his forehead as he did. Like a good friend, he politely ignored the fact Rob was becoming emotional, but if he wanted to bawl his eyes out, of course Mike would offer a pat on the back and a kleenex. "That's real admirable, dude," he said quietly. "You have some balls, I'll give you that. You just... reached out and took what you wanted, knowing it might have all blown up in your face. So, what's your sweetheart's name? How is she holding up? You thrust her into the Army wife realm without much notice, dude. Aren't you... worried about her waiting for you?"
"Leila," Rob replied with a tired smile, unable to stop his thoughts turning to her. "She's Aussie. Got these real possessive cousins, but I've managed to escape unscathed from them. I don't think they were really sure how to take me at first, and vice versa. One of them owns this hot bar in New York called The Bondi, which is where Leila works. It's where I met her." He paused for a moment, and shifted a little in the bed. "Yeah, of course I worry 'bout that. A lot. I ain't wanting her over there alone and having this all hanging over her like a dark cloud. It makes me feel sick thinking about it, and I miss her like crazy. But... well... I love her, dude. I love her and I didn't want to lose her. I gave her the choice, and she took it. It had to be her choice. She's sacrificing for me, not the other way 'round. But I needed her to know I would do anything for her."
Mike was silent, looking down at Rob's hand which was understandably devoid of his wedding ring. You couldn't wear rings in combat, too much risk of getting fingers ripped off, or worse. Damnit. Eight months of putting it all out of his mind, and Rob manages to drag it all back up just from being a romantic, a good guy, doing the right thing. He didn't even realise that he was sacrificing for his wife, just that she was sacrificing all for him. "You're a good man, Robbo. I'm proud to be your friend," he told him quietly and then held out his hand. "Congratulations, dude. Next time, I want an invite to the wedding or I'll smash your fucking face in."
Rob laughed and shook his friend's hand, oblivious to Mike's silent, internal struggle. "There won't be a next time, dude. Leila's my One. I just know it."
Leila is doesntwaltz and referenced with and permission
Word Count | 1,320