nickngreg | the sequel continues, grrr argggh

For those who wanted more....

Title: Moment of Truth, The Sequel - Part 14: "Missing the Ocean"

Synopsis: The desert is beautiful, but once in a while you really miss the ocean.

Author: Alex Morgan aka me

Rating: PG13 this chapter, NC17 the whole thing

Genre: Angst & junk

Disclaimer: You bet.

Part 15: "Missing the Ocean"

Rachel Palmer stood on the Bridge of Sighs, or at least its replica, at The Venetian hotel where she worked as a reservations agent. She knew it wasn't the real Venice, and memories of that other place, far away in time and distance, crowded her consciousness. The scent of olive oil and vintage wine, jasmine and lemon verbena; the clamour of the tourists in St. Mark's Square; the delicate mist from the Mediterranean that sets your skin tingling.

Yes, Rachel knew it was not Venice. The aroma of hotdogs and fries wafted past her nose. The desert heat was dry and tasted of hot rubber and asphalt, mingled with the sharp taste of the salt tears that drifted down her cheeks as she tried to come to terms with the fact that she would never see him again. She leaned her stick up against the fake bridge and rested her arms on the parapet.

Rachel used the verb "to see" in all the normal ways, except that of course, she couldn't physically see anything. But her other senses more than made up for that deficiency, and she had learned not to rely on other people for assistance or sympathy. It was one of the reasons why she had accepted Nick's proposal the previous Saturday night. It wasn't something she would normally do; but she was a human being like everybody else and nobody wants to date the blind chick. Not that she was unattractive - the last few years had no doubt taken their toll but she still remembered, in her mind's eye, what she looked like. She had never had a shortage of boyfriends before the accident. But now - she couldn't stand their pity. It was a strange gift, reading people without the sense of sight, but she had honed the skill to pin-point accuracy. The wave of pity coming off most people she encountered was almost tangible: it had its own particular smell, sweet and sickly, like stomach medicine.

But Nick wasn't like that. Even when he found out, there was no stale aroma of sympathy coming from him. He was straightforward and knew what he wanted, and he loved his friend Greg. That was another thing she could almost taste, and it turned her on. She was a gift for Greg, and a side order of titillation for Nick. But it had backfired. There was something about Greg that was unique, special - almost magical. She felt it when Nick brought her over to introduce them, even though he'd had a bit too much to drink. And if there was such a thing as love at first touch....

Rachel shook herself and wiped her face with the back of her hand. There was no way she would ever meet them again anyway - no last names had been exchanged, and she'd decided it would be prudent to disappear before they woke up. No sense in being a fifth wheel. There was nothing to it but to try and forget about Greg, forget his scent, his soft hair, his fine features, the taste of his lips, the feel of his smooth skin, even the texture of the burn scars on his back and the other scars that Rachel had discovered that night, and still wondered about. She had to simply forget how incredible he'd felt inside her, how gently he touched her, how he cried out her name and Nick's in the same breath, and how later she had basked in the glowing waves of passion that flowed from them both as they loved each other. Yes, she just had to forget.

A familiar scent drifted past her nose and Rachel shivered. It wasn't. It was her imagination. Wishful thinking. But there it was again, closer. She stood up straight, unconsciously holding her breath. Please. Just this once.

"Rachel?"

She looked in the direction of the voice, and summoned a breath. "Greg...?"

Kicking herself, but then realizing there was no point in hiding anymore, she turned towards the voice and smiled up at where she knew his face was. She picked up her stick and held onto it. This was who she was, pity be damned.

"Rachel? Oh, God - what happened?" Greg stared from the stick to Rachel, and back again, a look of horror on his face. Rachel knew this, because that's the kind of face people made when they found out.

"Nothing happened, Greg, I've always been like this. Well.... not always, but..." she trailed off, waiting for the smell of the stomach medicine.

"Rachel... I've been trying to find you - well - that's not really true but - " Greg raked a hand through his hair, trying to articulate his meaning. "Actually, I've been trying to forget you." He stared at Rachel. She felt his gaze like radiant heat from a fire. She wondered what colour his eyes were.

"Me too." said Rachel, glumly.

"How long, I mean... when did you..." Greg trailed off.

"Eight years now. I was seventeen. I fell off a horse, did the coma thing, very dramatic. Woke up blind as a bat." She laughed thinly.

"Well, don't I feel like a complete idiot." said Greg. "Did Nick know?" His voice was strained.

"You're not an idiot, and yes, Nick knew. Not at first, of course. It's not his fault, I asked him not to tell you. Don't blame him for it."

"Don't blame him!" Greg burst out angrily. "How can I not blame him? It was all his idea! I can't believe he'd do that. He should have told me. And he never said a word about it to me afterwards, not a word! As if I wouldn't even remember! I wasn't that drunk. What kind of a dumbass does he take me for? Using a blind girl for random sex. Nice, Nick, really nice. Now I feel like a prize jerk." Greg flung the pop can he'd been holding against the fake cobblestones, where it clattered uselessly.

"Don't take it like that." Rachel felt tears pricking at her eyelids again. Greg's anger was like a sharp pain in her side. "I just thought it would be better that way.... I just.... I don't know what I was thinking..." Get a grip!

Greg bit his lip. "Don't cry. Please."

"I'm not." Rachel protested, but it was too late. Greg folded her into his arms and held her tight. Rachel closed her eyes and clung to him. Don't let go.

"It's okay..." Greg stroked Rachel's hair. He closed his eyes and breathed in her delicate scent. It brought back a fleeting memory. "It's okay, don't cry." Something in his chest ached, and he swallowed hard.

"I never meant to use you like that. I never meant to hurt you. I'm sorry." She smelled of flowers and sunshine and Greg had a sudden longing for the ocean. Why had he left California again? Oh yeah. He remembered, and felt slightly sick.

"It's okay Greg," Rachel said, reluctantly pulling away from his arms. "I'm tougher than I look. And you have to go make it up with Nick." Her amber eyes stared into his and Greg caught his breath. Nick.

"You love him. You have to go home and make things right, Greg."

Greg sighed. "You're quite bossy for a small person, aren't you?" Rachel laughed. He hadn't said "for a blind person".

"Yes, I am, as a matter of fact." She put her hands on her hips, and glared in Greg's direction. She could feel his smile.

"I can't, at least not right now. I'm too angry. I wanna kick his ass, and that's one fight I'd never win."

"Well, don't leave it too long. He really loves you, I can tell."

Greg winced. Yeah. Love I don't even deserve.

Rachel reached up and gently traced her fingers over Greg's features. She stroked his nose, then ran her fingertips over his cheekbones, down across his jaw, his chin, across his lips. "You're a heartbreaker, that's for sure," she murmured.

"Sucks to be me sometimes," murmured Greg, soberly. Rachel ran a hand through his hair and he closed his eyes. Why was this happening? It was Nick that he loved. Nick. Nick, why did you do this to me?

"You've got to tell him, Greg." Tell him what?

"Can I...." Greg took a gulp of air. The ocean, why did he keep thinking about the ocean? "Can I at least come and talk to you? I mean...like a friend?"

Rachel smiled. "Of course - you're allowed to have friends, right?"

"Right."

"Well then. I'd love to see you. I mean.... well, you know what I mean."

The pain in Greg's heart was ripping him in two. Rachel took a step forward and reached for Greg's hand. "It'll be okay," she whispered. "We'll figure it out, okay?" Greg nodded glumly. Rachel turned his hand over and with her fingertips, traced the fine network of scars criss-crossing the inside of his arm. Greg let out a little gasp. "That's too much pain for one person to bear," she said, quietly. "Even Nick can't shoulder it all for you. And I know he's trying to. I felt it." Greg stifled a sob. "Sssh. You need as much help as you can get, Greg. I can be your friend but you mustn't shut Nick out, he needs you too. Right?"

"Yeah. Yeah I know. I know, I just.... it hurts."

"I know. I feel it. I'll help you, but you've got to go home and tell Nick you love him, okay?"

"Okay." Greg nodded like an obedient child.

But he didn't go home. And he didn't tell Nick a single goddamn thing because he was still mad, and the talks with Rachel got longer and more in-depth than with his therapist and a week went by and then two, and he missed the ocean and the pain got worse and the more he tried to hide it, the deeper it crept into his head and his muscles and his nerves, and he started to jump when Nick banged the door open, and he couldn't talk to him anymore and the silence between them grew and grew and fed upon itself like an angry disease and Rachel was the only one who could see and the ocean, he missed the ocean and three weeks went by and then four and he had to tell him, he had to but tell him what, that he was hurting, that he was angry, that he was confused, that he loved her, that he loved him, that he was torn six ways from sunday, that he was losing his mind, that he missed the ocean?

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