Some references to a previous fic, Gifts.
The time she first saw him when they rehearsed in Dublin, she figured something wasn't quite right. The thinner than usual look, the sitting down more than before, the occasional gasp for breath. She first shrugged it off and chalked it up to exhaustion, but until Mick rounded her and the rest of band up in an emergency meeting the day there were bound for Birmingham, she didn't figure to put two and two together.
But even then, never in a million years would she have ever guessed for that to ever happen to him.
Not now, not ever.
A flurry of thoughts entered her head during the six hour Eurostar trek to Amsterdam. She tried to distract herself with the iPad, now enclosed in a red striped case, he gave her when they came to London, but the image of him feeling poorly kept rearing its ugly head.
When she got to Amsterdam, a limo waited for her in a certain exit point far from prying eyes to take her to the hotel. After checking in, she went down to have lunch with them and sat in empty spot between John and Stevie.
The meal was fairly silent the whole time. Highly unusual from the typical hustle and bustle she came to expect from them. Then she remembered John was scheduled for surgery on Wednesday and this would be their last show for the year.
Seeing him simply pick at his food the whole time sank her heart. This was a guy who gobbled her pasta with so much gusto back when they were all living in Kiln House, she thought he would explode. The same guy who would watch and take pictures of penguins breeding in the London Zoo.
The same guy who ruined her Perfect name. "I used to be perfect until I married John."
That joke again. Never ever got old.
One by one, they left. Lindsey, then Stevie, then Mick. They were the only ones remaining in the hall. A moment of silence surrounded them before she spoke. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine. Considering."
Somehow, she wasn't really convinced. "Are you nervous about the surgery?"
He hesitated for a moment before giving her a slight nod. "I'm scared, Chris. What if this doesn't make me feel better? What if I--"
She placed a finger on his lips. Seeing him worry was the last thing she wanted. She never saw him like this. Not even when they were married. "Shh, try not to fret so much, John. Don't want you to get too sick to play this last show."
He cracked a tiny smile. "You know the first thing I'll do when I get out of this, Chris?"
"What?"
His eyes lighted up. "I'll buy another boat - there are still quite a few seas I haven't sailed just yet. I wanna go somewhere near the South Pole. Who knows? I might see some penguins screwing around in their natural habitat while I'm at it."
She pealed into a fit of laughter and playfully smacked his arm "Not this again, Johnny."
"Hey, if this is gonna be my last sail, might as well go all out and pull all the stops."
Now there's that John she missed the entire time. For the rest of the time the simply gazed at each other. He placed his hand on top of hers, that penguin ring she gave him all those years ago in plain view. Her eyes welled up when she looked back at him with those calm, sleepy eyes.
A few moments later, they stood up from the table and walked out. Without either of them knowing it, they held each other's hand and let their fingers intertwine as they walked up to the elevators, knowing that this could be the very last time they would be touching each other and nothing else mattered than them comforting each other the best way they knew how.
