Savage Love || An Eminem Fanfiction

Chapter 123

Blair POV

The syringe sat on the bathroom counter like it was daring me to look away. Last injection before the transfer. Tomorrow was the day. The thought of what came next felt like it was taking up all the space in the room, pushing down on my chest. My fingers gripped the cool edge of the sink, trying to ground myself in something tangible, something that wasn't the overwhelming unknown.

Marshall stood a few feet away, prepping the needle with the same quiet intensity he'd had every night, but tonight, I could see it was wearing on him too. His usual sarcasm was missing, replaced with something I couldn't quite name—maybe fear, maybe frustration.

"Ready for this, Satan?" he asked, trying for casual, though his voice was softer than usual. He smirked like he always did when he called me that, but it didn't reach his eyes this time.

I forced a smile, knowing I couldn't hide what I was really feeling. "Barely. How 'bout you?"

He glanced down at the syringe and shrugged, still focused on getting it just right. "I'm fine. You know me. Walk in the park."

I snorted, the sound more bitter than I intended. "Right. Because we've totally got this all figured out." The sarcasm slipped out before I could stop it.

Marshall looked up at me, one eyebrow raised. "Hey, you're the one married to a control freak who can't fix this shit. If I could snap my fingers and make it work, I would. Trust me."

I sighed, letting the tension in my shoulders drop just a little. "I know. I just—I don't know. Everything about this feels so... big."

Marshall walked over, syringe in hand, kneeling in front of me the way he always did before giving me the shot. His hands were careful, even gentle, but tonight they felt warmer, more present. "It is big," he said, quieter now. "But we're not gonna fall apart over this, alright?"

I nodded, swallowing the lump that had been building in my throat since this morning. "I don't want to fall apart, but it's hard not to feel like we're walking a tightrope."

Marshall raised his head, his eyes locking on mine as he swabbed the injection site. "If we're walkin' a tightrope, then I'm the one holdin' the net. You're not fallin'. Not alone."

I bit my lip, letting his words sink in as he slid the needle into my skin. The sharp sting barely registered over the thoughts racing through my mind. What if we fell? What if this time, there wasn't a net?

"Okay, that's it," Marshall said, pulling back, tossing the syringe in the bin like it was no big deal. "All done."

I exhaled, pressing my hand to the spot where the needle had been. "It feels like it should be harder than this," I said, almost to myself. "Like I should feel something different. It's the last one, you know? We're done with the shots."

Marshall stood up, resting his hands on my hips, his thumb stroking gently along my waistband. "Nah. It's supposed to feel this way. Boring as hell, right?" He smirked, trying to lighten the mood. "Next thing you know, we're gonna be dealing with diapers and spit-up. Enjoy the boring part while it lasts."

I let out a short laugh, the tension in my chest loosening just a bit. "You think diapers are gonna be the hard part?"

He grinned, finally a glimpse of the humor that always made me feel better. "Hell yeah. I've done this before you remeber? You ever smell baby shit? That's gonna be a whole new level of hell."

I laughed harder than I had in days, the ridiculousness of it all pulling me out of the dark thoughts I'd been drowning in. "Well, I'm ready for it. How 'bout you?"