"It's okay."
Those were the first words out of Angel's mouth as she gently closed the door of the doctor's office behind her.
Collins looked up from the patch of carpet his eyes had been burning holes in since Angel had disappeared through the door twenty minutes ago. He studied his lover's face carefully before he got up and hugged her close. He could easily read in her expression that it was the exact opposite of okay, and that she was trying to be brave for him, but he didn't push it. He could be brave for both of them, because God knew Angel wasn't very good at it.
"Honestly, sugar," Angel said, and Collins could hear her struggling to hold her tears in. "Everything's okay."
"Okay," Collins consented. He pulled back to look into her face again. Her eyes were shining with tears and her lips here pressed together with the effort of not shedding them. Collins squeezed her hands, trying to tell her that she didn't have to pretend, but at the same time afraid to shatter the fragile illusion between them.
"Let's go home, honey," Angel whispered. "Please."
"Sure thing, baby," Collins assured her, kissing her forehead.
The pair walked out of the surgery slowly, both of Angel's arms wrapped around Collins'. The professor bit the inside of his cheek and fought the urge not to plead with Angel to tell him what was wrong, or at least to show some emotion other than false cheerfulness.
"Honey, what are you thinking?" Angel laughed. "You're leaving scorch marks on the pavement."
Collins blinked. Internally, he fought a violent battle over whether or not to tell the truth. He wasn't sure which side had won until he opened his mouth and blurted, "Everything's not okay, Angelcake."
"Sure it is," Angel shrugged, then frowned. "Right?"
"No," Collins admitted. "What did the doctor say, baby?"
Angel bit her lip. "That everything's okay," she whispered, but Collins could tell her heart wasn't in it.
"Everything's okay," she repeated, mostly to herself.
"Baby- "
"Damn it, Thomas!" Angel burst out, a few traitorous tears escaping her eyes. "Why do you have to love me so much?"
Collins stopped walking, momentarily stunned.
"I'm more cut up about leaving you behind than I am about fucking dying," Angel sobbed.
"Angel…" Collins brushed a tear off her cheek and she let out a distraught moan, wrapping one hand around Collins' wrist and clutching a fistful of his shirt with the other.
Collins kissed her forehead. "It's gonna be okay," he murmured automatically, even though he knew, with every fibre of his being, that nothing would ever be okay again.
…
Disclaimer: Don't own squat.
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