Strange Melancholy

"Goddamnit," the epithet passed numb lips as he blinked away the burning in his eyes from staring too long at the tiny cell phone screen. Lifting one hand, Larry Gowan pressed his thumb and index fingers over his eyelids, pressing gently on his eyes for a few seconds. "Hitting too hard today." He watched the screen go dark even as the spots faded from his vision, blotting out the image that had been taken nearly a decade ago: a rare sight indeed, the normally stoic Chauncy Nottingham grinning for the camera. At the time, he hadn't been aware his photo was being snapped. Niagara Falls cascaded down behind him, just a whitish bokeh blur – it had been their wedding day, taken during an unseasonably warm November of 2011. Four damned years of marriage and they'd been on the outs for nearly half that time – if he'd known that their time was finite, he'd have been more careful. He'd have made choices that far more selfish than those he'd been accused of time and time again.

When he heard footsteps on the stairs, he sat up, wiping his face on the sleeve of the thermal undershirt he had on. He held his breath until the light tread passed by the mostly closed door and then he breathed a sigh of relief when he heard Kayla's voice, carried to his ears through the baby monitor that was still sitting on the nightstand.

"You're not gonna be this little for much longer…" a small sigh followed that thought, "and I'm not sure I'm ready for that. Time's going by too fast."

There was some plaintive note in her voice that called to Larry, that all-too-familiar fear lurking in the subtext of her words, and he found himself in the doorway a moment later, a rueful chuckle passing his lips.

"There's never enough time," Larry murmured, arms folding across his chest. "Much as you wish there could be." The silence that fell wasn't awkward, but Kayla still felt the need to break it.

"I seem to find myself in here every night lately," she confessed. "It's…"

"Comforting?" He offered and she nodded.

"A little. Rick keeps asking me what's wrong and I just can't put it into words…" It was overwhelming to her just how fast her daughter's first birthday had come, coupled with the fact that Abra had been born on the year anniversary of Bobby's – her grandfather's – death. They were now two years out from the anniversary and Kay just felt off-kilter.

"A strange sort of melancholy, in these darkest hours before dawn."

The way he said it was strange, as though he was quoting some song or poem that she'd never heard – it struck a chord of familiarity all the same and she looked down at her fuzzy-sock clad feet, heaving a sigh that ruffled the fine hairs on her daughter's head. Her eyes welled with tears. She could remember being in this exact position a year before, with a much smaller child. It tore at her heart how fast time had passed and quickly it continued to go.

"Trouble sleeping?" She changed the subject quickly, hoping he wasn't going to comment on her tears.

"Hadn't got around to trying yet," his smile was sheepish as he pushed off from the doorframe and moved closer, his steps light enough not to rouse the sleeping babe. "But yeah, I'm sure it won't come easy tonight."

She lifted her head, her eyes locking on his and she could see the depths of misery locked behind those clear blue eyes of his. "You're welcome to hang out in here, then."

Larry had jumped at the Thanksgiving dinner invitation because the thought of spending another night rattling around that hotel suite that he wasn't paying for — working as the General Manager for UPRISING had its perks, and their partnership with Caesars Entertainment meant that he could stay at any of their hotels for free. Vegas was good to lose himself in, from watching people to seeing the sights. Anything was better than those vast and empty rooms. It had been six years since he'd lost Chauncy, since the light in his life had gone out, stripping the passion with it. These days, he felt like a ghost, as if everyone could see right through him and maybe it would be better if he wasn't there at all. Of course, he kept that all bottled behind a smile as he moved closer to where Kayla sat.

"They're so darling at this age…still innocent little angels." Larry murmured, "wonder who she's going to be?"

"She's gonna be great." Kayla said softly, laughing a bit sadly. "As long as she takes after Rick, she'll be fine." It was supposed to come off as a joke, but the comment fell short. Her eyes were focused on her own feet as she shook her head. "She's pretty determined now at just one; I can't imagine how it will be in a few years."

Larry eased himself down and sat on the floor next to the chaise lounge she sat on, sighing. "I'm sure she'll be amazing. She's got great parents."

Finally, Kayla looked up and met Larry's eyes, hers glistening with tears. "Rick's been the best father. He was really concerned about that, when I was pregnant, but he's a natural with her. Daddy's girl, through and through. Sometimes I'm jealous of that." Exhaling deeply, she gently gave Abra a squeeze. "How messed up is that? I'm jealous that my daughter has her father and that mine is gone… He never got to meet her. He never got to meet Rick… he got sick right around the time—"

Her voice broke and Larry cut in smoothly, pretending not to notice. "It's not messed up, Kay. I'd tell you it gets better…" he snorted derisively, shaking his head.

"I just wish he'd been here to walk me down the aisle… to watch me get married."

"I'm sure he's watching…" the words came out automatically, even though he didn't really believe them. "Bobby was a good man. He's still with you, Kay. You know that. He's always going to be a part of you... the best parts of you, if we're being honest."

"I know that's supposed to be comforting – and it is – but I can't have a conversation with him. Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful for you, Larry. The fact that you're here for us right now is amazing and I wouldn't trade that for anything."

He had to close his eyes, dragging in a slow breath to ease the ache in his chest and he remembered the terrible fight he'd had with Chauncy all those years ago over the prospect of having children. There had been a little one on their flight from Chicago to Vegas, not much older than Abra was now. He shook his head to clear the sound of those phantom cries from his memory, bowing his head as he let that breath out slowly. Her words, although they'd been sincere and sweet, had cut right through him and he suddenly felt dangerously close to losing control of those tightly-reined emotions. "You're family," he managed to say, thankful that his voice remained steady although it was a tad hoarse. "Goes without saying…" he reached out and ran a finger over the bottom of Abra's foot where it was peeking from the blanket she was swaddled in, "that I'm always happy to be here if you need me. Love you like my own daughter – had I ever been blessed enough to have one."

What he said brought a smile to her face as she nodded. "You're always welcome here." AS if it suddenly dawned on her, she reached out and rested her hand on his shoulder. "Why don't you check out of that hotel and just stay here for a while? However long you wanted." The words were an open invitation and she hoped he would take her up on it. "Always."

It took him a few seconds to answer, the silence stretching out a bit too far until he realized he was staring off into space. "You…" his voice broke, and he cleared his throat, shaking his head. Blinking was a necessity and he tried to hide the tears that welled up. "The last two years have been really hard," he finally said, staring down at the faded zebra print Zubaz he had on in lieu of pyjama pants. "For so many reasons. I think we could both…" he trailed off with a sigh. "Jesus… I'm a mess tonight." He sniffled, breaking eye contact.

At that moment, there wasn't anything Kay felt that she could say that would add anything to the conversation. Instead, she pushed herself out of the chair carefully so as not to wake Abra. Walking over to the little one's crib, she laid her down gently and made sure she was still asleep before walking over to Larry. Without hesitation, Kay's knelt down and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. "This is a safe space. You don't have to act like everything is okay. I'm here, just like you've always been there for me."

"Did I ever tell you why I called him Skippy?" He didn't wait for her to answer, looking out at the perfect little nursery that reminded him so much of the things he'd never have. "The first time we worked together, first time we really worked on sequences for that pairing that had been foisted on us by Bill, we just… we clicked. It was a perfect blend of styles and Bill said afterwards that we went together like peanut butter and jelly. Of course, he was the former. Stalwart and solid, a good backbone that anything would stick to -- not for everyone, of course. He had that tendency to rub people the wrong way with his dry wit. I was jelly. Sugary sweet, bright and flashy. The thing you notice first. We talked about it at length… or rather, I did. Deep in my cups as I was that night. He let me ramble on and on until I finally decided in my infinite inebriated wisdom to call him after the brand I'd liked when I was younger. Skippy. The one with the cheerful and dapper squirrel on the label." He sniffled, closing his eyes against the tears even though they were already streaming down his cheeks. "He hated it so much and I used to… God, I loved needling him with it. But the truth, deep down? I think… I believe he liked it. He protested, he rolled his eyes and he put on those airs but there was always that…" he swallowed hard. "There was always that gleam in his eye. I miss him. God, I miss him so fucking much."

His admission had caused more tears to well in her eyes as she reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry you've had to go through this." Her own head bowed as tears started to fall down her cheeks. "I can't imagine losing Rick." Losing her father had been bad enough. "I couldn't…" she bit on her lower lip, wishing more than anything that she could make the pain go away for the man next to her. Larry had always been one of the most positive people in her life and seeing him so sad and grieving sliced into her heart. "I know we aren't Chauncy, and I am so sorry that we aren't, but you are family and you will always have a home wherever we are. I know it's not the same—"

"It's enough." He managed to force the words out. "Having to step up, take up the reins in Uprising brought it all back. Reminded me of Full Throttle… of when things started to crumble for us. He'd gone back home. His mother was ill—"

"You don't have to tell me this."

"I missed my flight. I was late for the funeral service, and I don't think he ever truly forgave me for that, for putting a damned wrestling company and some petty squabbles with the so-called talent over…" a sob caught in his throat, and he had to stop talking for a moment. The ache was almost unbearable now. "He never asked me for anything. Never outright. Just that once and I was so damned cavalier with it. He had his family with him, the band of brothers and I was so stupid. So foolish. I'll never forget the way he looked right through me. Time isn't infinite. I know that now. There's only so much to go around and when it's done, it's done. There's no bargaining to be had."

Hearing him tell this was breaking her heart all over again and all she could think of was how much it would hurt to not have him around – since Bobby had passed, they'd grown so close. "So, we make the best of what we have left," she looked over at the crib where her daughter slept peacefully, oblivious to the heaviness of the subject. "I love you, Larry. Stay with us. I want you to be close."

He leaned against her shoulder, sighing. "Vegas was the last place we were truly happy. Thriving – working those steady matches at The Luxor. I guess that's why I came back here. I could go anywhere now. There's no reason I have to stay…but something drew me back here."

"We need you," Kayla assured him.

A sad smile crossed his lips. "Yeah. Or maybe I need you."