JE owns the rights to anything familiar

Credit for the title and summary to LilyGhost - credit for making it readable to beta alix33

BABE HEA - promise

"I don't want to go."

I don't give a reason why. Not that I need to - we both know what it is.

"Yes you do," he counters without hesitation. "You've been talking about it for months."

"Yeah, but that was..." My mouth snaps shut and I try to pretend I never opened it as the word I didn't say out loud reverberates inside my head.

Before.

He smiles at me and I wonder how he can do that. It comes so easily, so naturally that I just want to cry.

"Don't," he says, his hand shooting up to cup my cheek as if its mere presence will keep the tears at bay.

"I love you." It's probably the twentieth time I've said it today, but it never seems like enough.

He inhales deeply and his dark brown eyes close gently, savoring the words as if it's the first time I've said them. When he opens them again, they are shining with moisture.

"I love you back," he whispers and leans in, pressing his lips to mine softly.

I snake my arms around his waist and pull him tightly to me. He returns the embrace in kind and people rush by us as we stand in the middle of the airport holding each other like it might be the last time.

"Final boarding call for flight 2436 to Los Angeles," echoes from the speakers and I hug him even tighter.

"That's you," he says and begins to pull away.

"Ranger." I can hear the desperation in my voice, but I don't care.

"Go," he says and even shoves me a little. "You can't miss your sister's wedding, the entire Burg would be scandalized and I'm pretty sure your Mother would never make you pineapple upside down cake ever again." He mock gasps and covers his heart with his palm. "The horror."

I smile in spite of everything. How can I not? It's vintage Ranger humor.

"Three days. I'll be home in three days."

He nods and shoves me again. "Go, they'll close the gate."

I turn from him without another word and run towards security clutching my boarding pass and ID in my fingers. I feel the heat of his eyes on my back but I do not turn around.

I can't, or I'll never leave.

*#*#*#*#*

For the past year my family and I have been planning my sister's wedding long distance, sending swatches and stationery samples back and forth across the country, spending long hours on the phone going over every little detail, but frankly - it's the last thing on my mind right now.

I haven't given a crap about the stupid wedding since Ranger's been sick.

It happened with no warning at all, not even he knew. We were waiting on line to buy tickets to the latest James Bond movie when he had a seizure right there in front of the theater.

I did a spectacular job of turning into a complete basket case and the paramedics that arrived on the scene had to give me a sedative.

I needed another one when the doctors began the poking and prodding, but somehow we made it through the almost unbearably long night, clinging to one another and to hope that it would turn out to be nothing.

The soft pink glow of the rising sun brought the news.

Ranger was dying.

That was three months ago and I've gone through various stages of denial since then. I dragged him for a second, third, and even a fourth opinion and even though each one was exactly the same, I still refused to accept it.

It couldn't be right. It wasn't fair. I hadn't had nearly enough time with him and I wasn't going to give up on him...on our life together.

I twist the diamond ring he slipped on my finger back around so it sits right again. It's grown looser over the past three months and that thought alone is enough to bring the tears back to the surface.

"Newlywed?" I hear a voice ask.

I glance across the aisle and see a little old lady smiling at me and pointing to my ring.

"No," I shake my head. "But it's the first time we've been apart."

She nods her head. "Don't worry sweetie, you'll be home before you know it."

I smile and turn my gaze back to the window. I don't tell her how I am afraid he won't be there when I get back.

*#*#*#*#*

There is a smattering of applause and I realize the Father of the Bride has finished his speech. He's been working on it for weeks and I wish I could have paid attention because my Dad talking in general was a rare occurrence so a speech in front of an actual live and captive audience should be given my full attention.

Unfortunately I can't concentrate and I can't make myself care about the speech or the rehearsal dinner or any of it.

I stand up abruptly and rush out of the restaurant, avoiding looks and ignoring the questions tossed my way. This will make my Mother furious, but like I said - I don't care.

My cell phone is out of my pocket before I even get the door open, and I push the speed dial button, holding my breath.

It rings three times and I'm starting to panic.

"Stephanie," his exasperated voice sounds in my ear and I heave a very audible sigh of relief. "You've been gone less than twenty four hours and you've called me thirteen times."

"What's your point?"

He laughs and I sink down onto a bench; a smile tugging resolutely at my lips.

"I miss you too," he says.

The tears come fast and burn hot as the run down my cheeks. "I'm coming home, Ranger."

"Babe," he immediately protests, "I'm fine."

Fine. I really hate it when he says that. He's not fine. He won't ever be fine again.

"I mean beside the whole dying thing."

Only Ranger can make jokes like this. But I laugh, because if I don't, I will sob.

"I can't do this, Ranger. I have to come home."

I can hear him exhale and I know he will not argue. "Right now?"

I laugh again. "No. But first thing in the morning."

"You'll miss the wedding."

"I know."

"How was the rehearsal dinner?"

"I have no idea."

Now he laughs. "Okay, I'll let you come home, but you have to promise not to call me again until you go to bed tonight."

"Deal," I say with a smile on my face.

"I love you, Steph," he says and hangs up before I can respond.

*#*#*#*#

I knock on the door and the real reason I was willing to leave Trenton for even a minute, swings it open like he was waiting right on the other side.

I haven't seen him in more than five years, not since right before Ranger and I were married, and his appearance leaves me utterly speechless.

His hair is long, nearly to his shoulders, with a portion of the top pulled back into a ponytail. The temples of his normally black as midnight hair have turned almost completely gray and the fine lines around his whiskey colored eyes make him look infinitely older than his thirty nine years.

"What's wrong?" he asks without preamble and ushers me inside his house as if the intervening five years had never happened.

I blink, but the gray is still there. The wrinkles and the haunted look in his normally happy eyes makes me wonder what has happened in his life since I saw him last.

"Stephanie?" He touches my shoulder and memories I'd long ago buried swim easily to the surface of my mind.

Are you sure this is what you want, Cupcake? Being the wife of a cop isn't easy. I got that job in California at Cedars-Sanai hospital...I leave next week...you know I want you with me...I still love you Steph. I never stopped loving you.

A wave of dizziness overwhelms me and I sway on my feet. Joe catches me easily and lowers me gently into a soft chair.

"You're scaring me, Steph." He is kneeling down in front of the chair looking up at me.

I can't respond because all I can think of is that night and his pleas for me to run away with him.

"Is it Ranger?" He asks softly.

And the present bursts back through my thoughts like a derailed train. Of course he knew we got married. Although he swore he wouldn't come, he was at our wedding, hanging back in the shadows and never once showing his face. But I knew he was there. That was the day he finally let me go and the day he moved to California.

Bile rises to my throat and I try to choke it back but I need a bathroom immediately. I jump to my feet and start moving before I realize I don't know where to go.

"Down the hall, first door on the left," Joe says and I bolt in that direction. I barely make it in time and clutch at the sides of the porcelain bowl while I lose whatever it was I ate at the rehearsal dinner. I retch until there is nothing left and then there is knocking at the door.

"Are you okay, Cupcake?" If this were any other situation, I would have smiled at the use of the familiar nickname; he probably didn't even realize he'd used it. I push to my feet and check my reflection in the mirror while patting at my messy brown hair. My skin is pale and my eyes are rimmed with red as if I've been crying endless tears - which of course I have. I splash some water on my face and pat it dry before opening the door to Joe's worried eyes.

"How bad is it?" He asks, reading my mind.

I open my mouth but before I can say a word, my cell phone rings, startling us both.

I fumble in my pocket and it has rung four times before I finally get it answered. My mind slowly registers that it was Tank's number in the display window.

"You need to come home, Stephanie." It is all he says, and the tears are flowing before I can even think to try and stop them.

*#*#*#*#*

I close my eyes tightly as the plane climbs higher into the twilight sky.

Joe takes my hand, but does not say a word and I am grateful for his silence.

He didn't use to be able to do this, just sit and not have to talk, even if there was nothing to say. I never noticed it until he was gone and my life was suddenly quiet.

I've grown to love the silence and some of my favorite memories of Ranger are ones where we're together for hours at a time and saying nothing at all.

Ranger never talks unless he has something he thinks is important to say and it's one of the things I love most about him.

But right now, I'd give anything to hear his voice.

It takes almost the entire trip before I'm ready to speak to Joe. I want to thank him for not asking any questions; for coming with me without my even voicing a request; for not saying even one word until I speak to him first.

But instead I say, "He won't be happy."

"You've already discussed it?"

I nod. "He says you're not God."

Joe smiles a little, undoubtedly remembering the same conversation he and I had a million years ago. He says what I know he will.

"I don't believe in God."

"I know."

He squeezes my hand. "It might not work."

"I know that too."

"Okay."

He pushes an errant strand of gray hair off of his face and I have the sudden urge to ask him what's been going on, why he looks like he's aged fifteen years in the past five but I keep my mouth shut remembering his last words to me.

"You are the love of my life, Steph. I just don't know how I will...I don't think I can..."

He turned away from me then and shrugged off the hand I laid on his shoulder. I hadn't meant to hurt him. I wish I could have taken it away, made him hate me, anything to erase the pain but I couldn't. There was no going back after I met Ranger. I may have been the love of Joe's life, but Ranger was the love of mine.

I glanced at our entwined hands and noticed his ring finger was decidedly bare and it made my heart ache a little more.

"Thank you, Joe." I finally say and it is not enough but he squeezes my hand again as the plane descends into the Newark Airport.

*#*#*#*#*

As I step into the hospital waiting room I see that most of Ranger's family is taking up the available seats, ones not occupied by members of the Trenton PD anyway. It looks like half the force has turned out to support their Lieutenant. I spot Ram, Bobby and Lester before the massive frame of his best friend, Tank, comes into view.

"Hey Little Girl," he says softly before gathering me to his chest. "I'll take you back." I give Ranger's parents a hug before Joe and I follow Tank.

Our steps are heavy on the sterile hospital corridor linoleum and the medicinal smell is making me nauseated.

A door at the end of the long hallway opens and his sister Celia steps out. Her eyes are puffy and rimmed in red and I run the rest of the way to her.

"How..." I can't even get the words out.

Her head shakes slightly. "It's not good," she says gravely.

I run past her and her greeting to Joe echoes in the hallway as I enter the room. "It's about damn time."

Ranger's eyes are closed and only the steady beep of the heart monitor lets me know he is still alive. There is an oxygen tube strapped to his nose to help him breath and an IV dripping into his arm.

I have never felt more helpless.

He shifts slightly as I move further into the room and his eyes open with great effort. My heart constricts painfully when a smile starts to spread across his face.

"You look tired," he breathes.

I fight not to completely break down. "Well, it's late," I manage to say.

He nods and struggles to stretch his hand out to me. "I've been waiting for you."

The weight of his words nearly brings me to my knees. He wouldn't go without seeing me, touching me one last time.

"I'm here now." I take his hand and cover it with both of mine.

"Yes," he agrees. "Lay with me?"

I do not hesitate and climb as quickly as I can over the metal railing of the hospital bed. I settle into his side, wrapping my arms around the expanse of his chest and I lay my head in the crook of his neck.

He is so incredibly frail and I can't believe it was just yesterday when he was standing on his own, holding me tightly against him.

"You brought Joe," he says a few minutes later.

It's a statement rather than a question and I can only nod against his shoulder.

"We talked about this," he reminds me softly.

"I know," I agree.

"And you did it anyway."

"You knew I would."

A soft, wheezing laugh escapes his mouth. "Yes, I did."

"If it was me, you would have done the same," I tell him. It's a discussion we've had a dozen times in the past three months.

"Probably," he nods. "And you would vehemently fight me on it."

"Probably," I concede.

He squeezes me as tight as he possibly can.

"It is a huge risk, Babe. I probably wouldn't survive the surgery."

"What about that guy in Tucson and those twin girls in Minnesota?" Again, a conversation we've had before.

"Different circumstances and you know it," he scolds. "Let it be, Steph."

"I can't."

"You can."

I sit up so I can look into his fathomless brown eyes. "I don't want to. It…it took me a long time to let you in, Ranger, and now that you're here - now that you are my heart - I don't want to let you go."

He does not respond and when I lean down to kiss his lips I feel a tear fall from my eye and splash onto his cheek.

"It might not work," he says after minutes of nothing. "Or it might come back and then we'll be right here again. I can't...I don't want to have to say good-bye to you twice."

"Isn't it worth the risk?" I whisper.

*#*#*#*#*

Tank is cuddling his wife Celia in his lap in the limited space in the waiting room and they, along with everyone else, look up in unison when I walk in.

The unasked question is clear on all their faces.

I shake my head.

His Mother jumps out of her chair. "Do it anyway!" She practically shouts.

"Honey," his Father tries reaching for her hand but she yanks it out of his reach.

"What? It's not like he could stop you." She turns to Joe who has materialized at my side and shoves him, hard. "Just go in there and do it!"

She's right, it's not like he's in any kind of condition to stop us if we were to go in there and start wheeling him to an operating room.

But I wouldn't be able to stand the look in his eyes while it happened.

"It's not what he wants," I say softly. "He's ready to go."

Celia swipes at the escaping tears on her cheeks. "Doesn't he care that we're not ready?"

She knows that he does so I don't even reply. "I'm going to go get him some ice chips, will you come with me?"

She nods and we walk hand in hand to the nurse's station.

Celia squeezes my arm before heading back to the waiting room and as I'm carrying the ice chips back to Ranger's room, I see Joe slip in the door.

I stop outside when I hear them talking.

"Why aren't you already back on a plane to Los Angeles, Morelli?" Ranger asks in a raspy voice.

There is a long pause before he answers. "She's pregnant, Ranger," Joe says.

My hand flies to my mouth and I nearly drop the cup of ice.

What? How can that be? And how would Joe even know? Sure, he's a doctor but...

My hand moves subconsciously to my stomach and I realize I can't remember when my last period was.

Ranger does not respond and I'm sure his face shows the same shock as mine.

"I don't think she knows," Joe adds quietly. "Obviously she's had other priorities lately..."

"You're sure?" I hear Ranger ask.

There is a pause and I imagine Joe shrugging. "All the symptoms are there."

"Shit," Ranger swears softly and I hear Joe stand up and move toward the door.

"I just thought …I thought you should know before you make any final decisions."

He pulls the door open and I duck to the side.

"Joe...wait," Ranger calls to him.

*#*#*#*#*#*

The surgery Joe performed the next morning to remove Ranger's tumor was recorded as the most successful brain surgery in history. Something about where the tumor was growing and how the risk of death or permanent brain damage was so high, no normal surgeon would have even attempted it. Articles were still being written about it, and about Joe, but I didn't care about any of the hoopla. Don't get me wrong, I was proud of Joe and would be eternally grateful to him but all I cared about was having my husband back.

Our son was born six months later and Ranger was there, in the delivery room grinning from ear to ear when he cut the umbilical cord and he was still smiling after they cleaned him up and placed him in my arms. In fact, these days, it's rare when Ranger isn't smiling.

We named him Roman Joseph Manoso and he's the spitting image of his father and much like Ranger, has had me wrapped around his finger from day one.

Tomorrow is his fourth birthday and per usual, his Father's going overboard with the party.

"A pony?" I ask.

He flashes me his thousand watt smile and my heart flutters and does a little flip beneath my ribs. I'll never get over how a simple smile from him can make me feel. Or how grateful I am to still get to see that smile every day - hopefully for a very long time to come.

"What little boy doesn't want a pony at his party? I wanted one when I was his age."

"I thought you wanted knives and guns and shiny black sports cars." Those things were all a part of our life now since Ranger retired from the police force and opened a security company with Tank. Now there were constantly men dressed all in black, walking around armed to the teeth and driving a seemingly endless supply of new black cars. It was an adjustment but I was starting to get used to it. Not that I had a choice, since I ran the office.

He pulls me to him by the collar of my shirt and kisses me long and hard and deep. "That came later in life," he says when he finally breaks away. My knees are weak and I really want more of that kiss. More of everything from him. "When I was four, I wanted a pony."

"And I bet you were just as hard to say no to as our son is."

His grin is sly and when he raises a single eyebrow I know his Mother got him a pony too.

"Speaking of, how long is he staying at your Mother's?"

I glance at my watch. "Another hour. I told her we'd pick him up at four."

"A man can get a lot done in an hour."

"What did you have in mind?"

I was naked before we ever reached the bedroom and he wasn't kidding, I can't even count how many things were done in that hour.