karolinughdean:

“we’ve been married for 2 years now and u just had surgery that left u real fucking dopey and u keep telling me that u wanna take me out and marry me” au

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Allison’s been awake since three am—that’s a solid six hours more than Lydia’s been awake, three hours before she woke because Allison has been fretting and worrying since the day she was born essentially, and then another three while she’s been in surgery.  She feels a little silly for all her worry, considering it was a completely routine procedure to fix Lydia’s bad knee; she fucked it up their senior year of college, when she was late for an exam because Allison convinced her to go one more round in the shower and so she ended up sprinting up the stairs to her exam room and wiped out on the stairs, landing with all her weight on her right knee.

She’s felt guilty for the last four years, honestly, she has, especially when it was cold and Lydia’s knee ached.  So now, four years after injury and two years after their wedding and about six months after Lydia reinjured said bad knee when she and Allison tried to go the Vegas for their anniversary but ended up battling a couple of harpies, she’s finally getting her knee fixed.  The guilt outweighed the worry a little, enough to keep Allison from pacing the length of the waiting room.

The guilt is mostly gone now though, so it’s the worry that’s reigning, no matter how silly Allison feels for it.  They’re nearing hour four and the doctor had said they’d be finished by that time, at the latest, and her mind is running through all the awful potentials and—

“Take a breath, sweetie,” Melissa says, appearing in the door of the waiting room and flashing Allison a smile.

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