Everything I've Ever Wanted

I yawned softly as I rested my head against Tony's shoulder in our new Economics class. It was only week two of the new semester, and I was already done with school and anything that entailed it. I didn't feel like reading or doing my homework. All I wanted was to curl up in my boyfriend, and never leave. I snuggled softly into Tony the best I could with the arm rest in between us. He smiled faintly down at me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder while his fingers lightly trailed over my arm. My eyes drifted closed at the steady motion, my eyelids heavy since I was not used to getting up at eight in the morning. Tony was just fine since he had been up since six for morning work out.

"Baby, no sleeping," Tony murmured to me, his lips brushing over my forehead as he shook me ever so slightly. "Try to pay attention."

"You take notes and I'll copy," I whispered to him, my breath coming out in soft puffs against his skin. He sighed, but didn't try to wake me or jostle me anymore, instead, opening up a Word document to begin taking notes.

I had no idea why I was so tired all the time now. But I just couldn't seem to find the energy for anything. I was tired, I didn't feel good, and I was incredibly cranky, not to mention how stressed out I was over Dakota. Tony and I had gone back to my house the Monday following our huge fight to find Dakota's side of the house completely emptied out. I had walked around my room, checking to see if anything was missing and surprised to find everything intact. The only thing that was there was a check for the rest of her years worth of rent, and a note saying that I was a shitty of a friend as they came. I shook my head when I scanned over the note, knowing Dakota was hurt and lashing out at me was supposed to make her feel better. But it wouldn't.

Tony and I have been alright, but there was most definitely a huge cloud looming over us with the name Dakota spelled out in it. She was constantly on my mind along with the thought of her and Tony together. It didn't matter if I was awake or sleeping, busy or doing nothing, I was thinking about it, my mind letting it play out across the inside of my brain on repeat. It was miserable, the ways I saw her coming on to him, the sounds he would make when she was doing those things to him. It hurt more than her words ever could and even though he tried, Tony couldn't make it better.

A poke against the other side of my arm woke me up from my little trip down memory lane. I turned to my left, looking over at Kara who was sighing softly, her eyes sad as she looked at me.

"What?" I asked her, sitting back up, Tony's arm slipping from around my shoulder to his laptop.

"I miss Mike," she murmured, referring to her boyfriend who was diagnose with mono a week ago, therefore quarantined in his house back in North Oaks.

"Text him."

"It's not the same!" She whined to me. "I want to hold him, and kiss him."

"That would not be a good idea," I advised to her, shaking my head at her even deeper frown. "Do you want mono too?"

"No," she sighed, looking back to her professor.

I tried to be like Kara and Tony and invest myself into the lecture, but I just wasn't feeling it today. My stomach hurt, I had a killer headache, and I just wanted to crawl back into bed. I leaned back against Tony, murmuring softly under my breath.

"What's wrong?" He whispered to me, his fingers sweeping my bangs out of my green eyes.

"I don't feel good," I told him truthfully, wrinkling my nose.

"What hurts?" He turned to face me fully, his eyes scanning my face for any sort of sign.

"My tummy," I pouted at him.

"Aww, bubbs. We'll get you home after this okay?" He suggested to me, his fingers threading completely through my hair, tugging out the snarls that were laying in my ends. I shook my head yes and settled into him the rest of class, only looking up at him when he asked me if I was okay.

After class ended, Tony took me back to the hockey house, carrying me up to his room and settling me into his bed with the pillows fluffed and everything. He catered to my need, turning on the TV and giving me the remote.

"Do you want some soup or anything?" He asked me as he handed me a glass of water with the Maalox. I glared at the tiny yellow tablet, already feeling my mouth start to water, vomit rising in my throat. I shook my head handing him the tablet.

"No."

"Yes, Molly. It will make you feel better." He insisted, holding it out to me in the palm of his hand.

"No, it's disgusting." I told him, shaking my head and crossed my arms.

"Molly, this is not one of those times that you should be stubborn with me." He glared at me, his eyes telling me to take the tablet.

"No. I don't want to, so I won't take it," I stressed to him, looking at the TV. Tony growled lowly under his breath, frustrated with the way I was acting. "I know myself better than you do. If I think I'm going to throw up if I take that, I'm not going to."

"Fine. Then don't complain when you don't feel better," he growled at me, putting the tablet on the night stand and walking out of the room, shutting the door behind him. I stared at the closed door, my eyes watering at how mean he was. I just didn't like to take meds. Why was that such a bad thing?

Tony didn't come back in the room to say goodbye before he went to class and he didn't come back to check on me before he went to practice either. Instead, he stayed away from me, letting me fend for myself until his teammates lumbered home. There was a soft knock on the door as I laid in his bed, flipping through the channels. Joey poked his head in, waving at me before he entered.

"Hey, Tony wanted me to check on you. He had to run up to Plymouth for dinner but he'll be back tonight." He told me, hopping on to the bed and laying back with me. I looked at him, my face very unamused as he shrugged. "He looked like shit at practice. He was definitely back here with you."

"Did his dad get mad?" I asked, knowing Don liked to kick Tony's ass sometimes just to push him harder. It was out of love.

"Yeah, he made him skate for an hour after practice ended," Joey told me, "he loves you a lot you know. I've been his best friend since he moved here when he was in sixth grade and I've never seen him like this. He is so whipped; he would do anything for you."

"Then why isn't he here with me?" I wondered, picking at my nails.

"Because you haven't exactly been warm to him lately." Joey told me honestly, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and kissing the top of my head in a brotherly way.

"I know. It's just hard. I keep seeing them together and I know I need to get over it, but I just.. I just can't right now. It hurts." I confessed, sighing softly and looking over at him, my expression sad.

"He's upset. He'd never admit it, but he's really kicking himself for hurting you."

"But the thing is, I don't have a right to be mad. I don't get to say, Tony, you hurt me, how could you sleep with her? I don't because he didn't know me and we weren't together. But It kills, it stings because I hate her now. I used to do everything to make sure she was okay if she ever heard about Tony being with someone, but now it's just like, I'm the one that is hurt."

"Tony gets that it hurts you. She was your best friend and he slept with her. It's understandable for you to feel weird and disappointed by it." He shrugged, "but at the same time, you have to be rational about the pain. Don't push Tony away because he was caught up in the moment and he was stupid. It's hard to have girls falling all over themselves to get with you. It's so easy to fall into the trap, but I want you to know something. A couple weeks ago, Dakota showed up at the hockey house while you were at home for the weekend without Tony. She was all over him, trying to lead him up to her room. Tony was like, what the fuck, you know? And finally, he just pushed her away and was like, you seriously need to fuck off. So she like stomps around and starts whining to him, saying that he needed to just admit that she loved him. Tony was so fucking confused, but after that night at your house, he looked at me and said "fuck my life, I slept with that girl?" He doesn't remember it at all, and I think that's what pains him the most."

"Wait, she showed up here, and tried to get on my boyfriend's dick?" I growled, my eyes low and menacing.

"Yeah, but Tony refused to let her anywhere near him. He had his hands on her wrists, shoving her away." Joey soothed me.

"Joey, is he mad at me?" I asked, biting my lip in anticipation of the answer.

"No, he's mad at himself. He hates to see you upset with him. But you guys just need to talk about it, get everything out in the open so you can move on."

"It's too fresh to talk about."

"I understand. When the time is right, open up to him." Joey patted my thigh as we settled in, 10 Things I Hate About You playing out on the screen. I sighed and snuggled into the bed as Joey and I watched the movie, both of us eventually passing out after Kat found out about the bet, her heart completely shattered as she ran down the stairs.

"Joey. Joey. Joey, get your fat ass out of my bed," Tony's voice grumbled sometime later in the night, shaking his best friend. Joey's hand came up, hitting me in the stomach, hard. "Joey! you fucking moron!" Tony growled, flipping him off the bed in one swift movement, crawling over him and to me, leaning down with his hand pressed against my stomach, "you okay baby?"

"Yeah, I had lots of padding," I yawned to him, pointing the comforter that was bunched up around my mid section. He nodded and then turned to Joey who was smiling sheepishly at his best friend.

"Don't give me that look. Get out."

"You're welcome for looking after your sick girlfriend," Joey mumbled as he walked towards the door.

"Sleeping doesn't count," Tony told him as he pulled down his jeans, letting the denim hit the wood floor, his belt clinking loudly. He sighed and slipped into bed with me in only his t-shirt and boxers. He didn't turn to his side and pull me to him like I thought he would. He just stayed on his back, his eyes drifting shut in exhaustion. I tentatively reached for him, but recoiled my hand once I heard his soft snore, knowing he was already out like a light. I turned onto my left him so my back was facing him, willing for the sleep to come as my stomach rolled, and Dakota and Tony preformed their nightly show in my head.
***

You know that saying that Martina McBride song that says, "Spent sometimes on the jagged side, somehow we wake up in each others arms?" Yeah, that song was most definitely describing Tony and I at the moment. His arms were wrapped around my waist, his face buried in the crook of my neck as my hands wound around his neck, holding him close to me with a steel grip. Our legs were entangled under the covers, my smooth legs brushing against the hair on his.

Tony started to shift a couple minutes after I had woken up, his nose pressing farther into my neck as his legs began to move, his arms tightening instinctively. His legs started to move more, rubbing against mine while he stretched his neck slowly, probably cramped from being like that for hours. He didn't lift his head though, instead pressing a kiss to my neck and then down and across my collar bone. My tongue caressed my top lip as I tangled my hands in his hair, the hairs curling around my fingers.

"Morning," he mumbled into my neck, his teeth pulling at my flesh.

"Hi."

"Are you feeling better?" He wondered, pulling away to look into my eyes. I shook my head no, still feeling incredibly queasy. "Hm, do you want to take that Maalox now?" He asked, giving me a pointed look.

"If it will avoid another fight," I whispered, looking at his t-shirt and tracing the Minnesota that was spelled across his chest. His fingers came below my chin, tilting it up so I was forced to look into his green eyes.

"Molly, I'm just frustrated about everything right now. You're upset with me, which makes me upset with myself, which transfers to the ice, which pisses off my coach/dad. It's just a long line of things that are building up and it's just getting to me."

"Tony, I don't like seeing you like this. I'm trying so hard to forget about it. I really am. Just give me a little bit more time, just so that I stop thinking about it all the fucking time," I groaned, smashing my face into his chest.

He didn't say anything, just let his mouth fall to the top of my head as we laid silently together, listening to his teammates bustle around the house. They walked down the hallway, closing and shutting doors and being loud as they grumbled about having to go to practice. I gripped Tony as he started to move to get out of bed, clinging to him like a monkey.

"No. Stay with me," I whimpered to him, softly kissing along his jaw. He let out a deep sigh, his hands coming to support me instead of pushing me off of him as he stood up. He walked around the room with me, gathering his stuff for practice until he had to set me back on the bed.

"I have to go. I'm the captain," he reminded me. "I'll skip class today," he whispered to me, his lips brushing across my cheek bones. "I'll come take care of you and ravish you. But until I get back, stay in bed and sleep, and choke down that thing right there."

"No, baby, get me the good kind, like the red ones or the orange ones, anything but the banana." I pleaded with him as he walking away, grabbing his sweatpants and giving them a tug. They went right down his legs, pooling around his now socked feet. He scowled at me as I grinned innocently. "You look like a fool with your pants on the ground," I rapped to him, giggling softly. He shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"You're funny."
***

Three days later, and a couple flushes of vomit later, and I still wasn't any better. The medicine didn't help, eating didn't help, and drinking water didn't help either. It was to the point where nothing was in my stomach besides water, so when I threw up, it was just liquid. Tony tried to get me to choke down crackers, but I refused, telling him I would barf them up anyway. He would just shake his head at me, and pull me into his arms until I would need to run to the bathroom again.

"Molly," Tony called from outside the bathroom door, "I really think you need to go to the doctor."

I shook my head at my pale face in the mirror, running my hand over my face roughly. I was brushing my teeth, trying not to gag as the brush moved dangerously close to the back of my throat. I spit out the tooth paste, rinsing it down along with my brush. I turned the water off, patting my face dry. I heard Tony sigh and walk away down the hall, leaving me to stare at myself some more. Something was off, something was making me sick. I never threw up, never. Even when I had food poisoning really bad, the worst it got was unbearable cramps. But I never barfed. It was one of the most disgusting things ever and I was sick of it. I didn't want to anymore, I wanted to know what was wrong with me, but to be honest, I was scared what the doctor would say.

I was late. Late as in, the kind of late that makes you want to bash your head against the wall at not being more careful. I hadn't had my period this month, and I honestly couldn't remember the last time I did. It made me want to cry, to lay down on the tiled floor of the bathroom and sob until I passed out because I couldn't breath, my lungs constricted too much. But I had to try and be rational for the first time in weeks. I needed to think about this really hard, remember the last time I had my monthly visitor and trace it back to the times when Tony and I had sex. But my brain was too scattered to do that.

I sat on the toilet seat, not wanting to stare at my pathetic expression anymore, it was too disgusting. How could I get myself in this position? This wasn't supposed to happen to me; I was a good kid and very responsible. But if I was.. I couldn't even make myself say the word, then my whole life was going down the drain. Tony would hate me; he would be so disappointed and repulsed by me that I would be on my own, not that I could blame him. But it was hard to think about that conclusion. I prayed that it was something else, a bad flu bug, food poisoning, anything but reproducing.

Tony knocked on the door again, his knuckles tapping against the wood before he pushed the door open. He looked exhausted and it was only noon, meaning he still had to go to practice in two hours. He had been the prefect boyfriend the past couple of days, letting me sleep on him when I couldn't leave the bathroom, holding me when the same reoccurring dream would happen, making me start to cry so hard I would throw up again. It was ugly, one of my weakest moments in our whole relationship, but he was there. It was evident too in the way he yawned and his eyes slid shut when he would come home, sleeping until I would wake him up as I sprung up from his bed.

I sighed as he crouched down in front of me, his face holding hard lines instead of it's usual smoothness. "Baby, please, go to the doctor."

"I don't like the doctor," I mumbled to him, looking into his tired green eyes.

"I don't care. I'm worried about you." He told me, kissing my forehead and running his thumb over my lip. I puckered my lips, kissing it softly.

"I'll be fine. It's just the flu," I assured him, standing up and walking past him. I heard him sigh as I went back into his room, climbing into his bed.

He slid in next to me, falling asleep in an instant as I mulled over what I had just told him, praying for a miracle, and that it was only a flu bug. Because if it was anything else, I wasn't sure I would be able to handle it.