Don't Give Up

Happy now?

"I haven't seen you touch it yet." Stevie said, without looking at Lindsey, referring to the guitar he had asked to bring him. 

"That's because I haven't." He replied, lying on the bed, while Stevie was folding laundry. 

"But you asked me to bring you-"

"Yes, Stevie, I remember." Lindsey cut her off. 

She knew this was a touchy subject, but all she wanted to do was help. "You should try. Maybe nothing's changed."

"And what if it has? What if I can't play anymore?"

"So, you'd rather not find out at all? You're just going to keep obsessing over it; can I or can't I, instead of picking the guitar up and attempting to play?" 

"Let it go, Stevie."

"But-"

"Forget it!" This was the first time Lindsey snapped at her since he came home, but Stevie didn't dwell on it for too long. She knew how passionate about playing guitar he was, so she fully expected him to act out. 

"You don't have to be mad at me or anyone else for that matter, especially at yourself." She spoke calmly, climbing on the bed and situating herself beside him. "I know that you're afraid and that's alright. You shouldn't expect yourself to be as good as you were before. It may take time, but you'll get back to how you used to play."

Sighing, Lindsey faced the other way, unwillingly at first, his eyes then settled on the instrument. "You don't know how it feels. It's what I do. Did. I used to wake up and before anything else, I'd go and play. All of a sudden, I'm not even sure I can pick through simple chords. How would you feel if you couldn't sing anymore?"

"I understand what you're saying, Lindsey, but you've already come such a long way. A few short months ago, you couldn't move, you could barely talk. Now you're walking again. I know it wasn't easy, it required a lot of hard work, but what makes you think that playing will be any different?"

"It used to... it used to just come to me so easily. My fingers would start working before I got my hands on the instrument, but now? I don't think I could accept the fact that I can't do it anymore."

"That's the thing, Lindsey, you don't know yet. And you won't know until you try. If it doesn't go the way you'd like to, just like you said, you wouldn't accept it and you'd do everything to get it back. I know you, you wouldn't eat, you wouldn't sleep, you would practice day and night."

After several minutes of silence, Lindsey turned his head back to look at Stevie, who sat, patiently waiting for him to say something. "I'll do it when I'm alone."

"Fine. Okay, whatever makes you comfortable." Stevie smiled a little, taking his hand and pressing a small kiss to each knuckle, since bending over and kissing him on the lips would be prevented by her belly. "I was going to make something for lunch anyway." She said casually, indicating he should just try already. Getting off the bed, Stevie stopped momentarily in the doorway, before she left the room. "I love you."

Even though Stevie wanted to linger in the hallway and listen, she also wanted Lindsey to feel as comfortable as possible, so he would actually pick the instrument up. She also knew he trusted her to do so. 

Stevie couldn't help but feel anxious, while she was cutting up vegetables for a salad in the kitchen. It would break her heart if Lindsey was unable to play. Besides his family, it was what he loved doing most. His passion for music, for creating music was initially what brought them together, he would be crushed if it was taken away from him, therefore she would be too. 

Not wanting to interrupt just in case, Stevie stayed downstairs a bit longer. She wasn't really doing anything, besides thinking. Her thoughts suddenly vanished, when the phone started ringing. 

"Hello?"

"Stevie, hi."

She didn't reply right away. "What do you want, Mick?" Though Mick tried, Stevie refused to see him and hear what he had to say for himself. In her opinion there was nothing he could say.

"Same as every time. I'm not going to just give up, Stevie. I'm sorry, again. Please, can we sit down and talk it out? I miss my friend."

"You should have thought about it before stealing my husband."

"Please.... Are you still there?" Mick asked, when he didn't get any response for a while.

"I am." Stevie replied with a heavy sigh. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes, you can come over and talk, but I can't promise I'll be very nice to you."

They agreed on the day and time, then hung up. Of course she was still angry, but... They had known each other for so long, they'd been through so much. Stevie doubted she and Mick could restore the friendship they had, but they had to restore something, because it wasn't just about the two of them, it was about Fleetwood Mac as a whole. If they couldn't work it out, the band was most likely finished and that was the last thing Stevie wanted.

Forgetting about the phone call for the time being, Stevie made her way back upstairs, somewhat slowly approaching the bedroom. She right away spotted the instrument obviously thrown on the floor, Lindsey sitting hunched over, with his head in his hands.

He might not have seen her come in, but he felt her presence. Always. Turning his head towards the door, he locked his eyes with Stevie's, his question coming out sounding spiteful. "Happy now that I've tried?"