Seasons (Nick/Greg, 4/4)
Apr. 8th, 2007 01:40 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
snow-white.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
nickngregHere I am with the last instalment – thanks to all of you for the lovely feedback on the third part, and apologies to those who had to take out shares in Kleenex. I am sorry, I promise you. Anyway, without further ado…
Title – Seasons, part 4
Author -![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
black_dahlia63
Characters – Nick Stokes, Greg Sanders, various OC’s.
Rating – PG13. Sorry.
Thanks tocptn_pugwash for the marathon IM session that got this finished…you rock, sweetie. I mean that.
Disclaimer – not mine, just playing. And I’d post a warning for angst, but hey – this is me you’re talking to.
links to the first three parts here…
The formerly pristine surface of his fridge door was almost two-thirds covered with magnets; after Catherine’s daughter had come to visit along with her mother months since and left the first one, bought from Circus Circus, everyone else who’d been to the apartment since then seemed to have added something to the collection. They ranged from amusement park souvenirs to Bart Simpson ones that had recently been given away by a local fast food chain; there was also the one Robin had bought from Hot Topic, showing a dachshund silhouette and a four leaf clover along with the words “My Wiener Is Lucky”, which Greg shoved into his pocket whenever Catherine brought Lindsay over. But his attention was drawn to a small yellow magnet, bearing the logo of the pizza place four blocks over, which anchored a piece of paper to the fridge door; scribbled on this paper, using a stub of pencil which had been all Nick could find earlier that morning, was a handful of letters and numbers.
“US Air 392, 1.15 p.m Thursday.”
That’s two days away, a little voice said inside his head. What did you let him go for?
“He’s only been gone six hours, and look at you,” Robin said behind him. “What the hell are you gonna be like when he comes back?”
“He might not come back,” he replied, finally voicing the fear he’d been holding inside him – even from Nick – for days now. “Why did I tell him to go out there?”
“I don’t think he’d have done it if he hadn’t wanted to, Spike,” was the answer; when the use of the pet name she’d given him months ago because of his hair didn’t produce a smile, she moved close enough for him to pick up the scent of the perfume she always wore. “When are you back in the lab again?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Well, you’re not staying here by yourself till then and getting all wound up,” she told him with her customary bluntness. “Come to the shoot with me,” and she raised an eyebrow as he opened his mouth to speak. “And don’t you dare say you can’t.”
**********
Nick sat in the front passenger seat of the car, staring out at scenery that was as familiar to him as breathing; he thought of all the times when the sight of the landmarks scattered along the journey to the home where he’d grown up had made him smile, but he wasn’t smiling now.
Could be the last time I do this.
“Stop that,” his sister told him, and it was only then that he realized he must have spoken the words aloud; the car stopped at a light, and he felt her right hand cover his left. “You’re not in this on your own.”
“You telling me everything’s going to be all right, Meg?” he said, his voice tense. “You think dad’s just going to be fine with it and we’ll all live happily ever after?”
“No,” was the answer, and Meg squeezed his hand. “I’m not telling you everything’s going to be all right, but you can’t dance around this any longer,” and when he turned towards her he found her looking straight at him. “After everything Greg’s been through, he doesn’t need to feel like he’s something you’re ashamed of.”
“I’m not ashamed of him,” he said, the sudden fierceness in his voice surprising him. “I’m just – well, I’m afraid, okay?”
“I know,” Meg replied softly, placing both hands on the steering wheel again as the light finally changed. “You know what, though? You have to do this, Nicky, for both of you.”
*********
Having been admonished by the shaven-headed photographer to stay out of the way and don’t touch anything, Greg sat in a corner that was euphemistically termed the “VIP area” although it didn’t look any different to the rest of the club; breathing in stale cigarette smoke and trying to tell himself he hadn’t heard about someone being stabbed to death here, he watched as lighting and props were set up on and around the dance floor to the accompaniment of near-deafening music from the DJ booth. Robin had disappeared to change, but there were other girls here too; they would appear every so often, in varying stages of undress, to negotiate with the photographer before retreating again – and every so often, when he caught them glancing at him and giggling, he was forced to smile.
“What do you think, Spike?” a familiar voice asked, and he turned in its direction. Robin’s diminutive figure had been raised six inches off the ground by black high-heeled Mary Janes; she was wearing a red latex dress, corset-laced in black at the waist, the neckline low enough for the Love Never Dies tattoo on her left breast to be clearly visible. Her hair was fastened back in two high pigtails, her normally understated makeup replaced by heavily-applied red and black eye shadow together with blood red lipstick; a small silver ring was set in the middle of her lower lip, and a slender black leather collar had been fastened round her throat.
“Can you even breathe in that dress?” he asked, and when she threw back her head and laughed he saw a stud flash in her tongue. “What did I say?”
“God, you sound like my mom,” she said affectionately, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “You want me to grab you a Coke before I get started?”
“That’d be good,” he said, and as she turned away he saw that the dress was cut low enough in the back to display a cluster of musical notes etched at the base of her spine; he watched her walk towards a nearby table that held an open cooler, and his right hand slipped into the pocket of his jeans where he kept his cell. Nick was probably at the ranch by now, his phone turned off, but all Greg needed to do was hear him speak when the voicemail picked up…
“Greg!” Robin called out, and when he raised his head she was grinning at him. “Get that phone out one more time and I’m taking it away from you – catch!” and she sent a can of Coke arcing through the air; he raised a hand and caught it, managing to return her smile as he did so, and for a moment or two the tightness in his chest was loosened.
**********
Rob and Paul were on the front porch of the ranch before their mother’s car had even come to a halt, and they raced towards Nick as he climbed out of the passenger seat; he swept Rob up into his arms, tickling him until he screamed, and saw Paul shake his head in mock resignation. “Who’s going to bring my luggage in for me?” he asked as he put his younger nephew down again, setting in motion a regular feature of his visits – and then, as the two boys began squabbling over who was going to carry the suitcase, he looked up over their heads and saw his mother watching him from the half-open front door. He walked towards her, seeing her face light up the way it always did, and the hug he was drawn into lasted a long time; when the two of them broke apart, his mother raised an eyebrow for a second or two before the enquiring expression on her face was replaced by her customary smile.
“Come on in,” she said, leading the way into the house. “Your dad won’t be home for another hour or so yet - did they feed you on the plane, or have you got room for a sandwich? We had ham for lunch yesterday, there’s still plenty in the fridge.”
“A sandwich would be great,” he told his mother, following her towards the kitchen. He sat at the table as she began taking things from the fridge, listened to her talking and managed to throw in a few comments of his own; and all the while he was committing this mundane scene to memory, making sure he could hold onto it – because he was terribly afraid that, less than a day from now, everything would have changed.
**************
Once the calendar shoot was over, someone had suggested going to get something to eat – and so now, at almost nine o’clock, Greg was part of the group that had taken over one end of the Mexican restaurant two blocks away from the club where the photos had been taken. Piped mariachi music blared from overhead speakers, something which would normally have ensured that he stayed as far away from the place as he could; but at least while he was surrounded by people, he wasn’t thinking about going home alone.
“You want some of these?” a voice said as a half-empty plate of nachos was set on the table, and he looked up to see one of the other models sliding into the empty seat next to him. “You’re the CSI, right?”
“The lab rat,” he corrected her around a mouthful of food. “I’m Greg.”
“I’m Miss November, but you can call me Emily,” was the answer from the redhead with tattoos that covered both her arms. “What happened to you?”
“Car wreck,” he said matter-of-factly, and he saw her nod in the same casual manner; over the preceding months, it had become easier for him to talk about the accident - as though, following what had been whispered to him on his last night in Dallas
(I wish you’d stop thinking you’ve got to do this on your own)
he’d turned a corner and realized that people were still seeing him for who he really was rather than what he’d become.
“Ever done any modeling work?”
“Me?” he said, slightly startled, and he glanced around to be certain she’d been talking to him. “Have you seen the way my ears stick out?”
“You’ve got nice eyes,” was the answer, as Emily leaned closer. “I was looking at them this afternoon -”
“Listen, lady,” Robin said with a grin, turning round from her seat at the next table, “just because you play for both sides, doesn’t mean everyone does, so stop coming onto him.”
“Oh, shit, you’re gay?” Emily asked, a rueful smile appearing on her face when the question was met with a nod. “Figures,” she went on, and scattered laughter broke out from the others. “All the cute guys usually are,” and her cheeks turned slightly pink as she ran a hand through her hair. “No offence meant, okay?”
“None taken,” he said, reaching for his margarita and taking a sip before he went on speaking. “I’m just…” and he gestured at his wheelchair. “I’m just not used to being hit on now, that’s all.”
“You’re not getting out enough, then,” Emily said with a grin. “You seeing anybody?”
“I’m – well, it’s too early to say yet,” he said, still managing to smile. “We’re trying to work it out, you know?” then he thought of how far away Nick was, how they might not be able to work it out, and he swallowed hard before he spoke again. “Can I get you another drink?”
************
The room Nick sat in now had been “his” since he came home from the hospital as an infant. Pastel blue paint with a teddy bear border had given way to navy and white striped wallpaper with shelves to display all the sporting trophies he’d won at school; the striped wallpaper had been replaced by cream-colored paint long since, and the only relic of his childhood was a Dallas Cowboys pennant bought for him during one of the first games he’d attended with his father. He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at this pennant now, the sight of it bringing a lump to his throat; eventually, drawing in a deep breath, he got up and made his way downstairs.
The ranch was quiet, Meg and her husband having taken their two boys out bowling following a supper that Nick had done little more than pick at; Grace was asleep in the room next to Nick’s, in the crib that had been used by him and all his sisters, and as he passed the half-open doorway he caught a glimpse of the colored shadows cast on the ceiling by her nightlight. Come with us, Meg had said as her excited sons were hustled into the car by their father – but she hadn’t seemed surprised when he’d shaken his head, and she’d hugged him hard before following the rest of her family out of the front door.
As he reached the foot of the stairs, Nick could smell coffee, and he made his way into the kitchen to find his mother putting away the last of the dinner dishes; she turned round at the sound of footsteps, her eyes lighting up and a fond smile spreading across her face, and Nick’s breath caught in his throat. “I thought you might have gone with the others,” she said as she took a mug from the cupboard. “You didn’t eat much supper – do you want some dessert? There’s half a coffee cake left, I only made it yesterday.”
“No, mom, I’m fine,” Nick managed to say, pulling a chair away from the kitchen table and sitting down; he watched as his mother poured coffee, adding cream and sugar the way she’d done for him so many times. He took the mug as she slid it across the table, saw concern etching tiny lines into her forehead even as she smiled at him; he knew that even now he could explain everything away and be believed, something that had happened more times and with more people than he cared to remember…
No, mom, I’m not seeing her again – I’ve got to think of college, I don’t really have time for a girlfriend right now.
No, dad, I’m not bringing anyone with me for Christmas – work’s been crazy for months, I just want to relax.
I don’t think we ought to see each other any more – no, it isn’t anything you’ve done…
“I need to talk to you, mom,” he said, the words escaping his lips before he could stop them. “You and dad – can you get him in here? Please?”
************
“You’re quiet,” Robin said as they turned onto the road leading to Greg’s apartment building, and she chuckled softly. “Hope Emily didn’t freak you out.”
“No, she didn’t,” Greg said, somehow succeeding to smile as he spoke. “I probably ought to be flattered, right?” and he fell silent while the van was guided into the parking lot in front of the building; it was a black Dodge Grand Caravan, bought six weeks previously, but he still hadn’t summoned up the courage to learn to drive it himself. I’m not going to chauffeur you for ever, Nick had said one evening after work, and thinking about this now made Greg squeeze his eyes shut – because that had been the night when Nick had finally summoned up the courage to kiss him, and ever since then that memory had lodged itself in his heart.
Why did you tell him to go out there?
“Greg?”
“Sorry, what?” he said, realizing that they’d come to a halt. “I shouldn’t have stayed out so late, I’m tired -”
“It’s going to be okay, you know.”
“You don’t know that,” he said quietly while Robin began the process of lowering him to the ground. “You don’t know how his dad is.”
“What was it you said to me once?” she asked him, and the ramp hummed softly as he descended. “Nobody was going to see you for what you were? He does, doesn’t he?” and when he nodded silently, not trusting his voice, she smiled. “He’s a lot stronger than you think he is, Spike, you just need to have a bit more faith in him – you want me to come in with you?”
“No, I’m fine,” he said. “Thank you for tonight,” he added, and he found himself able to smile. “I liked your friends.”
“They liked you too,” Robin told him. “We’ll have to do it again, and next time you can bring Nick with you, okay?” She leaned down to hug him, and as she straightened up again she ruffled his hair. “You get some sleep, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
********
He sat in front of the TV, changing channels but focusing on none of them, knowing that he should sleep but not wanting to. He thought of all the nights there had been lately, nights when it had become harder and harder for Nick to leave – nights when they’d told each other things they’d never told anyone else, nights when he’d begun to realize that what he needed now had been with him for a lot longer than he’d realized.
He thought of the way the corners of Nick’s eyes crinkled when he really smiled, the way breath would warm his lips before they kissed – and with every one of these kisses, the realization that Nick could decide that he valued his father’s love more than the still-fragile bond that was being formed between the two of them cut a little deeper into Greg’s heart.
Why did you tell him to go out there?
Sighing gently, he turned off the TV and made his way out of the room; a short while later he was in bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking of the nights that Nick had stayed here. Not in this bed, not yet, and Greg knew why; Nick had slept on the couch, a wall separating them, but the knowledge that he wasn’t alone had been enough to comfort Greg. Now, though, the apartment felt emptier than it had done the day he’d moved in – and as he forced his eyes to close, Greg couldn’t help thinking it was his fault.
*********
“What did you just tell us?”
“Bill…”
“Who’s put this idea in your head, Nicholas?” Nick’s father asked, ignoring his wife - no Cisco now, no affection, and Nick’s hands tightened around a mug of coffee that had gone cold long since. “If you hadn’t gone to live in Vegas -”
“I knew I was gay before I went to Vegas,” Nick said quietly. “It’s one of the reasons I took the job when they offered it to me,” and he saw a muscle twitch below his father’s left eye. “I knew I couldn’t be what I wanted to be as long as I lived here.”
“You don’t want this,” was the answer. “You can’t want this – you’ve brought women here, for God’s sake, we’ve met them -”
“I did that because I knew it’s what you wanted,” was the answer. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to tell you about this?” and Nick forced his hands away from his mug, knotting them together on the table. “I knew what you’d say, but I’ve found someone who makes me happy, and he doesn’t deserve to have me lying about what I am.”
“What you are is a Stokes man, Nicholas, and Stokes men don’t behave like this,” his father said, and then something dawned in his eyes. “Is this about the young man you brought out here in August? Greg?”
“Yes, it is,” Nick replied, forcing the words past dry lips; his gut was slowly turning to ice at the realization that his father had made the connection this quickly, and he knew the point of no return had been reached. “He makes me happy, dad, he understands me, and…”
“You brought someone like that into my house?”
“Our house,” Nick’s mother said quietly. “Our house, Bill.”
“I’ll take care of this, Jillian,” was the answer. “You’d better make plans to leave in the morning, Nicholas, before your nephews are awake.”
“We’ll drive him to the airport,” a voice said, and when Nick looked round his sister was standing in the kitchen doorway; somehow she had known what he was going to do, had come back, and he didn’t think he’d ever been so glad to see anyone in his life. “Are you afraid they’ll catch something from him?”
“Did you know about this, Margaret?”
“I’ve been trying to get him to tell you for years,” Meg said, taking a few steps towards the group at the kitchen table, “but he hasn’t – you know why? Because he was afraid of what you’d say.”
“Because he knows it’s something I won’t tolerate,” Nick’s father replied, his lips set in a thin line. “And if you’re willing to have your children exposed to this type of behavior…”
“How dare you, dad? He loves them like they’re his own!” and Meg’s voice cracked as she continued speaking. “Do you think Nicky’s a child molester now, just because you’ve found out he’s gay? He would die before he hurt my kids -”
“I was nine,” Nick said in the silence that followed, his eyes fixed on his parents and his voice a near-whisper as his composure hung by a thread. “Just about the same age Paul is, and you and mom went to see West Side Story,” because even now, he could still remember every detail of the night he’d only ever talked about to one other person in more than twenty years. “Jenny couldn’t baby-sit because she had – she had cheerleading practice, so you rang round and found someone else,” and in his mind he saw that long-ago Nick, lying in bed wearing blue pajamas and hearing the bedroom door creaking slowly open. “I was nearly asleep, and she came in my room and pulled the covers back…” He heard a soft inrush of breath, saw his mother’s left hand fly up to cover her mouth, but somehow he managed to keep going. “She touched me and I couldn’t move, I wanted to tell her to stop but I couldn’t make myself speak – she said it was a secret, and I shouldn’t tell anyone because they wouldn’t believe me or they’d say I must have wanted her to do it,” and he blinked rapidly as his vision blurred. “I felt sick, I felt dirty, I just lay there waiting for you to come home…”
“Nick -”
“No, mom, let me finish,” he said. “I thought what if she was right? What if they don’t believe me? What if they think I did want her to do it? I knew you guys would be ashamed of me if you thought I did that, so I just kept quiet and lived with it.” He clenched one hand into a fist, the pain of his nails digging into his skin furnishing him with the will to continue. “You know when I knew I had to come up and tell you about Greg? It was after I told him about this and he didn’t see me any differently,” and his mind was suddenly filled with the memory of that night three weeks since - when he had lain on the couch with his head in Greg’s lap, crying as though he would never stop while a hand combed through his hair and a slightly unsteady voice said it’s okay, Nicky over and over. “I never told any of the girls I went out with why I don’t like someone lying behind me in bed or touching me when I’m asleep -” He paused, sucked in a deep breath, forced himself to keep speaking before he lost his nerve. “I always said when I found someone I cared about, someone I wanted to be with, someone I knew wouldn’t turn their back on me for something that wasn’t my fault, then I’d tell them – but it didn’t feel right no matter how many girls I went out with! Didn’t you ever wonder why you never saw any of them more than once?” and he was unable to take his eyes off his parents’ faces. “Meg figured it out, she asked me if I was having thoughts about guys, and that was back when I was seventeen - she said I should just tell you, she said it wasn’t right to go through my whole life being something I’m not, but I couldn’t!”
“We’ll find you someone to talk to,” Nick’s father said, his face and voice like that of a stranger. “A therapist, someone who knows about these things -”
“What things?” Nick asked. “What happened when I was a kid? Or me being gay?” and he saw the muscle twitch below his father’s eye again. “Talking to someone isn’t going to change that, dad.” He pushed his chair back, stood up on legs that barely had any strength left in them. “I’ve been hiding things most of my life, and I’m tired of doing it,” he said. “I still love you, I still want you to be proud of me, but if you’re not then I’ve got people who care about me and I’ll manage.” He turned and walked out of the kitchen, hearing someone begin to cry behind him but not knowing who, and the ascent to the second floor seemed to take forever; eventually, he closed the door behind him and sat on his bed, hands clasped between his knees to stop them shaking, and the handful of hours between the ranch and Vegas stretched into eternity as he recalled a conversation that had taken place the night he’d decided to fly out here. I’ll understand if you can’t, Greg had said. I don’t want you to choose between us, but your folks need to know…
********
Wednesday, 5 a.m
“What have you got for me, Greg?”
“Neither of the samples matched the boyfriend,” he answered, pivoting round to face the speaker. “Nothing on the fingernail scrapings, but I did get a hit through CODIS on the vaginal swab,” and he saw Warrick raise an enquiring eyebrow. “Mike Tennant, thirty four, got out of jail three weeks ago for robbery…”
“And? C’mon, Greg, it’s been a long night.”
“Bunch of priors for rape.”
“I’ll get Brass to haul him in, find out who else was there with him,” Warrick said, pinching the top of his nose and sighing the way he always did when a case got to him – something that didn’t happen often, but Greg knew his colleague had found it hard to deal with the victim’s screaming toddler being discovered next to her mother’s body. “Thanks, man.”
“Any time.”
“Breakfast?” Warrick asked over his shoulder as he turned to leave the room. “Or have you got to get home?” and in the few moments of silence that followed Greg thought of what “home” was going to be like for the next day and a half.
“No, I haven’t,” he said. “Breakfast would be good.”
********
6.15 a.m
Through the half-open bedroom window, he heard the sound of his father’s car starting up; he listened as the noise of the engine became more and more distant, and when he was unable to make it out any longer Nick pushed the covers back. Forgoing a shower for fear of waking anyone, he put on the clothes he’d laid out the night before; he placed his pajama bottoms in his suitcase before zipping it up, and once he’d done this he made his way out of the room.
He was tip-toeing soundlessly towards the stairs when a groggy, fretful whimper made him turn his head in the direction of the room next to his. Grace had pulled herself upright and was clinging to the crib rails for support, drool covering her chin and her eyes swimming with tears; stepping into his niece’s room, he picked her up and made a slow journey downstairs with her draped across his left hip.
“Ssh, sweet pea,” he murmured as they entered the kitchen and an agitated “um um um” echoed in the otherwise silent room; he took a clean dishcloth from the drawer next to the sink, giving it to Grace while he opened the freezer door with his free hand and retrieved a handful of ice cubes. Wrapping them awkwardly in one end of the cloth, he walked across the kitchen and opened the door leading out onto the deck; he lowered himself carefully into one of the chairs, settling Grace in his lap before giving her the cloth-covered ice. He watched her cram as much of it into her mouth as she could, chewing on it while her eyes began to close again; five minutes later she was sound asleep, the front of her pink one-piece outfit soaked with water, and when the cloth was plucked from between her lips she didn’t stir.
Footsteps creaked behind him, and Nick turned to see his brother-in-law standing in the doorway; he started to get up, his left arm braced securely around his niece, but Russ shot him a quizzical look before shaking his head. “Thought I’d find you out here,” he said, sitting in the chair next to Nick’s. “Poor baby, she’s been cutting teeth for a week, I don’t think Meg or I have slept for more than three hours at a time,” and a fond smile curved his lips as he reached to stroke his daughter’s hair. “Are you okay, Nick?”
“I shouldn’t have done it,” Nick replied, looking down at the sleeping child in his lap; he recalled the previous evening, lying in bed and hearing his nephews’ excited voices as they returned from the bowling alley, their father hushing them and saying they could tell Uncle Nick about it tomorrow…“Not while you guys were here.”
“I’m glad we were here,” Russ said quietly. “I can’t imagine what it would have been like to do that by yourself,” and he shifted his chair slightly so that the two of them were facing each other. “Did you call the airline yet?”
“Their office opens at eight, I’ll take care of it then.”
“Come back to Fort Worth with us today,” was the answer. “Stay the night, Meg and the kids can drive you to the airport tomorrow morning.”
“Russ…”
“The kids would like it, and so would we,” was his brother-in-law’s immediate response. “We don’t get to see enough of you as it is, and if Bill thinks that being gay makes you a bad person that’s his loss,” and as Nick closed his eyes he felt a hand rest on his arm. “You’re godfather to our three guys, man, did you honestly think we’d cut you off?”
“Daddy?”
“Hey, big guy,” Russ said, smiling as he placed an arm round his youngest son. “How come you’re up so early?”
“I could hear you guys talking through the window,” Rob said, his face creased with sudden concern. “Why’s Uncle Nick crying, daddy?”
“Do you remember the guy who was here when we stayed here this summer? The one with the wheelchair?”
“Greg?” Rob said, not taking his eyes off Nick’s face. “He was cool, daddy, he told us all these cheats for our PS2 games.”
“Well, kiddo, your Uncle Nick and Greg like each other the same way your mom and I like each other, and grandpa Bill isn’t real happy about it.”
“Like a boyfriend?”
“Pretty much like that,” Russ said, and his son shrugged with the matter-of-fact acceptance of a small child. “You know what?”
“What?”
“I think your Uncle Nick would probably like a hug,” Rob’s father said, and a moment later arms were wound round Nick’s neck so tightly he could hardly breathe; he let his chin rest on sleep-tousled hair, his eyes meeting his brother-in-law’s, and after a long time he summoned the strength to speak.
“I’ll come back with you if the offer’s still open.”
“Is Uncle Nick coming to our house, daddy?”
“Just for tonight, kiddo.”
“Yay!” Rob crowed, letting go of Nick and grinning from ear to ear. “Can he sleep in my room?”
********
Back in the bedroom, following a breakfast he’d hardly touched, he sat looking out of the window at a view that was one of his earliest childhood memories. Outside the door, he could make out his sister’s voice as she directed her family’s preparations for the imminent departure, telling Russ to get Gracie’s things out of the fridge and admonishing her sons to remember all their game cartridges because grandma isn’t going to mail them like she did last time; there had been so many other visits when he’d joked about this, asking Meg if she oughtn’t to have been a drill sergeant instead of a lawyer, but this time he couldn’t make himself do it.
“Nick?” a voice said behind him, and when he didn’t answer he heard the bedroom door click shut; seconds later the bed creaked, and although he didn’t look round his nostrils could pick up the Chanel no. 5 he’d breathed in since he’d been an infant.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and it was all he could manage to say before something stung the backs of his eyes; he squeezed them shut, sucking in a deep breath, and when one of his hands was clasped he hung onto it tightly. “I’m sorry, mom…”
“Look at me, Nicky.” The same endearment she’d always used, and when he forced his head up he saw shadows beneath his mother’s eyes that told him she hadn’t slept any more than he had – but there was something in those eyes that made his breath catch in his throat, and the words he spoke were forced from a dry mouth.
“Did you know?”
“I had an idea,” his mother told him, folding her hands over his. “I used to tell myself you just hadn’t found the right girl, but I think that was because I knew how your dad would react if he ever found out – then I saw you with Greg this summer, and that’s when I knew.”
“He didn’t know how I felt,” Nick said quietly. “Not till right before we left to go back to Vegas.”
“You were happy, though, I could see that much,” was the answer. “He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”
“He has for a long time,” Nick said softly. “I was just too afraid he’d laugh his ass off if I said anything, but then that last night we were here – he said he thought nobody was ever going to want him because of what happened to him, and I had to tell him it wasn’t true,” and he tore his eyes away from his mother’s face to look out of the window again. “He knows everything, mom, and none of it makes any difference - I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry, but…”
“The only thing that hurts me is you keeping all this in for so long,” his mother said. “There’s a difference between being strong and stopping yourself from being happy,” and she waited until Nick was looking at her before she spoke again. “Your dad and I aren’t always going to be here, Nicky, you have to make your own life,” she said, and a gentle smile touched her lips. “It isn’t that far to Vegas.”
“Mom -”
“You’re still my son, and I’m not going to lose you over this,” was the response, and before either of them could say anything else the door burst open.
“Are you ready, Uncle Nick? Mommy said for you to hurry up or we’ll go without you!”
********
“Where’s Uncle Nick gonna sit?”
“Next to Grace and one of you guys,” Russ told Paul. “I’ve folded the spare seat down where we put the bags, and one of you can use that.”
“I want to sit next to Uncle Nick!” Rob piped up. “Please, daddy?”
“No, I’m the oldest, stupid, I get to!”
“Both of you quit it,” Nick said. “Rob can sit next to me, we’ll stop for McDonalds on the way, and then the two of you can switch places,” and he watched Rob stick his tongue out at his older brother before climbing into the back of the car. He turned towards the house and saw his mother coming down the steps; closing the distance between them, he wrapped his arms round her and hung onto her tightly for a long time before the two of them broke apart.
“Will you ring me?” his mother asked, framing his face with her hands. “As soon as you’re back in Vegas?”
“I will, mom,” he said, his voice slightly unsteady, and he leaned forward for another hug. He heard a whispered command to look after Greg, heard himself say that he would, and then he turned away; moments later he was in the car, fastening his seatbelt as Grace tugged at his hair, and then he was craning his neck round to look at his mother standing in front of the house as the car moved down the driveway.
********
Thursday, 8 a.m
“How come Uncle Nick’s plane has to leave so early?” Rob said, his voice scratchy. “I’m tired.”
“If you’d gone to sleep when I told you to, mister, you wouldn’t be so cranky,” Meg retorted as she guided the car into a space in front of Departures. “You’re going to bed early tonight.”
“Mo-om!”
“You mind me, now,” Meg told her youngest son as she killed the engine and climbed out. “Paul, are you going to help Uncle Nick get his suitcase out?” and she watched as Paul unbuckled his seatbelt and scrambled out of the car. “You all set there, little brother?”
“I told you to stop calling me that about twenty years ago,” Nick said, but he was smiling as he got out of the passenger seat. “You be good for your momma, sweet pea,” he told Grace, leaning into the back seat and planting a kiss on her forehead. “’Bye, kiddo,” he said, reaching to ruffle Rob’s hair, and he straightened up just as Paul lugged the suitcase onto the sidewalk. “Thanks, Meg,” he told his sister, wrapping his arms round her and hugging her tightly.
“Any time,” his sister told him, blinking rapidly, once the two of them had pulled apart. “You call me, okay?”
“I will,” he said. “Soon as I get back.” He lifted his suitcase, hugged Paul with his free arm, and watched as his sister and her son got back into their car; he kept watching until it disappeared from his field of vision, and then he turned in the direction of the automatic doors that would mark the start of his journey home.
********
Greg had been awake for most of the night, finally falling asleep at around five o’clock in the morning; he awoke to the sun high on the bedroom wall, the beginnings of a headache pulsing at his temples and the sound of the front door opening.
“Take this,” he says, placing something in Nick’s hand – a key, its brand-new sheen catching the light, attached to a black leather fob. “Mi casa, and all that,” but both of them know that this means much more…
“Nick?” he called out, pushing himself up against the pillows and shifting to the edge of the bed. “That you?” and moments later a figure stood in the bedroom doorway. A suitcase dropped to the floor, and Nick walked unsteadily across the room; by the time he dropped to his knees next to the bed, reaching to wrap his arms round Greg’s waist, both of them were crying – but as Greg leaned down awkwardly to curve a hand round the back of Nick’s head, he knew they were tears of relief.
*********
Six months later
"Can't we stay up a bit longer?"
"It's almost midnight now," Nick said with a grin, unhooking the control pads from the PlayStation despite groans from Rob and Paul. "You two get to sleep, and Greg's going to take us all out for breakfast tomorrow."
"Can we get pancakes?"
"Whatever you want, if you'll go to sleep," Nick answered, leaning down to tuck the throw around his nephews as they lay on the couch. "'Night, guys," and he turned off the light as he left the room.
"Nice bargaining tactics," Greg said with a grin as Nick closed the bedroom door. "You'd be a lousy hostage negotiator."
"You were the one letting them play Silent Hill till they got nightmares last time they slept over," Nick retorted, climbing into bed and turning off the light. He shifted until he was lying against Greg's side, smiling when a kiss was planted on top of his head, and he fell asleep with the slow thump of his lover's heart echoing in his ears.
FIN
Title – Seasons, part 4
Author -
black_dahlia63Characters – Nick Stokes, Greg Sanders, various OC’s.
Rating – PG13. Sorry.
Thanks to
cptn_pugwash for the marathon IM session that got this finished…you rock, sweetie. I mean that.Disclaimer – not mine, just playing. And I’d post a warning for angst, but hey – this is me you’re talking to.
links to the first three parts here…
The formerly pristine surface of his fridge door was almost two-thirds covered with magnets; after Catherine’s daughter had come to visit along with her mother months since and left the first one, bought from Circus Circus, everyone else who’d been to the apartment since then seemed to have added something to the collection. They ranged from amusement park souvenirs to Bart Simpson ones that had recently been given away by a local fast food chain; there was also the one Robin had bought from Hot Topic, showing a dachshund silhouette and a four leaf clover along with the words “My Wiener Is Lucky”, which Greg shoved into his pocket whenever Catherine brought Lindsay over. But his attention was drawn to a small yellow magnet, bearing the logo of the pizza place four blocks over, which anchored a piece of paper to the fridge door; scribbled on this paper, using a stub of pencil which had been all Nick could find earlier that morning, was a handful of letters and numbers.
“US Air 392, 1.15 p.m Thursday.”
That’s two days away, a little voice said inside his head. What did you let him go for?
“He’s only been gone six hours, and look at you,” Robin said behind him. “What the hell are you gonna be like when he comes back?”
“He might not come back,” he replied, finally voicing the fear he’d been holding inside him – even from Nick – for days now. “Why did I tell him to go out there?”
“I don’t think he’d have done it if he hadn’t wanted to, Spike,” was the answer; when the use of the pet name she’d given him months ago because of his hair didn’t produce a smile, she moved close enough for him to pick up the scent of the perfume she always wore. “When are you back in the lab again?”
“Tomorrow night.”
“Well, you’re not staying here by yourself till then and getting all wound up,” she told him with her customary bluntness. “Come to the shoot with me,” and she raised an eyebrow as he opened his mouth to speak. “And don’t you dare say you can’t.”
**********
Nick sat in the front passenger seat of the car, staring out at scenery that was as familiar to him as breathing; he thought of all the times when the sight of the landmarks scattered along the journey to the home where he’d grown up had made him smile, but he wasn’t smiling now.
Could be the last time I do this.
“Stop that,” his sister told him, and it was only then that he realized he must have spoken the words aloud; the car stopped at a light, and he felt her right hand cover his left. “You’re not in this on your own.”
“You telling me everything’s going to be all right, Meg?” he said, his voice tense. “You think dad’s just going to be fine with it and we’ll all live happily ever after?”
“No,” was the answer, and Meg squeezed his hand. “I’m not telling you everything’s going to be all right, but you can’t dance around this any longer,” and when he turned towards her he found her looking straight at him. “After everything Greg’s been through, he doesn’t need to feel like he’s something you’re ashamed of.”
“I’m not ashamed of him,” he said, the sudden fierceness in his voice surprising him. “I’m just – well, I’m afraid, okay?”
“I know,” Meg replied softly, placing both hands on the steering wheel again as the light finally changed. “You know what, though? You have to do this, Nicky, for both of you.”
*********
Having been admonished by the shaven-headed photographer to stay out of the way and don’t touch anything, Greg sat in a corner that was euphemistically termed the “VIP area” although it didn’t look any different to the rest of the club; breathing in stale cigarette smoke and trying to tell himself he hadn’t heard about someone being stabbed to death here, he watched as lighting and props were set up on and around the dance floor to the accompaniment of near-deafening music from the DJ booth. Robin had disappeared to change, but there were other girls here too; they would appear every so often, in varying stages of undress, to negotiate with the photographer before retreating again – and every so often, when he caught them glancing at him and giggling, he was forced to smile.
“What do you think, Spike?” a familiar voice asked, and he turned in its direction. Robin’s diminutive figure had been raised six inches off the ground by black high-heeled Mary Janes; she was wearing a red latex dress, corset-laced in black at the waist, the neckline low enough for the Love Never Dies tattoo on her left breast to be clearly visible. Her hair was fastened back in two high pigtails, her normally understated makeup replaced by heavily-applied red and black eye shadow together with blood red lipstick; a small silver ring was set in the middle of her lower lip, and a slender black leather collar had been fastened round her throat.
“Can you even breathe in that dress?” he asked, and when she threw back her head and laughed he saw a stud flash in her tongue. “What did I say?”
“God, you sound like my mom,” she said affectionately, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “You want me to grab you a Coke before I get started?”
“That’d be good,” he said, and as she turned away he saw that the dress was cut low enough in the back to display a cluster of musical notes etched at the base of her spine; he watched her walk towards a nearby table that held an open cooler, and his right hand slipped into the pocket of his jeans where he kept his cell. Nick was probably at the ranch by now, his phone turned off, but all Greg needed to do was hear him speak when the voicemail picked up…
“Greg!” Robin called out, and when he raised his head she was grinning at him. “Get that phone out one more time and I’m taking it away from you – catch!” and she sent a can of Coke arcing through the air; he raised a hand and caught it, managing to return her smile as he did so, and for a moment or two the tightness in his chest was loosened.
**********
Rob and Paul were on the front porch of the ranch before their mother’s car had even come to a halt, and they raced towards Nick as he climbed out of the passenger seat; he swept Rob up into his arms, tickling him until he screamed, and saw Paul shake his head in mock resignation. “Who’s going to bring my luggage in for me?” he asked as he put his younger nephew down again, setting in motion a regular feature of his visits – and then, as the two boys began squabbling over who was going to carry the suitcase, he looked up over their heads and saw his mother watching him from the half-open front door. He walked towards her, seeing her face light up the way it always did, and the hug he was drawn into lasted a long time; when the two of them broke apart, his mother raised an eyebrow for a second or two before the enquiring expression on her face was replaced by her customary smile.
“Come on in,” she said, leading the way into the house. “Your dad won’t be home for another hour or so yet - did they feed you on the plane, or have you got room for a sandwich? We had ham for lunch yesterday, there’s still plenty in the fridge.”
“A sandwich would be great,” he told his mother, following her towards the kitchen. He sat at the table as she began taking things from the fridge, listened to her talking and managed to throw in a few comments of his own; and all the while he was committing this mundane scene to memory, making sure he could hold onto it – because he was terribly afraid that, less than a day from now, everything would have changed.
**************
Once the calendar shoot was over, someone had suggested going to get something to eat – and so now, at almost nine o’clock, Greg was part of the group that had taken over one end of the Mexican restaurant two blocks away from the club where the photos had been taken. Piped mariachi music blared from overhead speakers, something which would normally have ensured that he stayed as far away from the place as he could; but at least while he was surrounded by people, he wasn’t thinking about going home alone.
“You want some of these?” a voice said as a half-empty plate of nachos was set on the table, and he looked up to see one of the other models sliding into the empty seat next to him. “You’re the CSI, right?”
“The lab rat,” he corrected her around a mouthful of food. “I’m Greg.”
“I’m Miss November, but you can call me Emily,” was the answer from the redhead with tattoos that covered both her arms. “What happened to you?”
“Car wreck,” he said matter-of-factly, and he saw her nod in the same casual manner; over the preceding months, it had become easier for him to talk about the accident - as though, following what had been whispered to him on his last night in Dallas
(I wish you’d stop thinking you’ve got to do this on your own)
he’d turned a corner and realized that people were still seeing him for who he really was rather than what he’d become.
“Ever done any modeling work?”
“Me?” he said, slightly startled, and he glanced around to be certain she’d been talking to him. “Have you seen the way my ears stick out?”
“You’ve got nice eyes,” was the answer, as Emily leaned closer. “I was looking at them this afternoon -”
“Listen, lady,” Robin said with a grin, turning round from her seat at the next table, “just because you play for both sides, doesn’t mean everyone does, so stop coming onto him.”
“Oh, shit, you’re gay?” Emily asked, a rueful smile appearing on her face when the question was met with a nod. “Figures,” she went on, and scattered laughter broke out from the others. “All the cute guys usually are,” and her cheeks turned slightly pink as she ran a hand through her hair. “No offence meant, okay?”
“None taken,” he said, reaching for his margarita and taking a sip before he went on speaking. “I’m just…” and he gestured at his wheelchair. “I’m just not used to being hit on now, that’s all.”
“You’re not getting out enough, then,” Emily said with a grin. “You seeing anybody?”
“I’m – well, it’s too early to say yet,” he said, still managing to smile. “We’re trying to work it out, you know?” then he thought of how far away Nick was, how they might not be able to work it out, and he swallowed hard before he spoke again. “Can I get you another drink?”
************
The room Nick sat in now had been “his” since he came home from the hospital as an infant. Pastel blue paint with a teddy bear border had given way to navy and white striped wallpaper with shelves to display all the sporting trophies he’d won at school; the striped wallpaper had been replaced by cream-colored paint long since, and the only relic of his childhood was a Dallas Cowboys pennant bought for him during one of the first games he’d attended with his father. He sat on the edge of his bed and stared at this pennant now, the sight of it bringing a lump to his throat; eventually, drawing in a deep breath, he got up and made his way downstairs.
The ranch was quiet, Meg and her husband having taken their two boys out bowling following a supper that Nick had done little more than pick at; Grace was asleep in the room next to Nick’s, in the crib that had been used by him and all his sisters, and as he passed the half-open doorway he caught a glimpse of the colored shadows cast on the ceiling by her nightlight. Come with us, Meg had said as her excited sons were hustled into the car by their father – but she hadn’t seemed surprised when he’d shaken his head, and she’d hugged him hard before following the rest of her family out of the front door.
As he reached the foot of the stairs, Nick could smell coffee, and he made his way into the kitchen to find his mother putting away the last of the dinner dishes; she turned round at the sound of footsteps, her eyes lighting up and a fond smile spreading across her face, and Nick’s breath caught in his throat. “I thought you might have gone with the others,” she said as she took a mug from the cupboard. “You didn’t eat much supper – do you want some dessert? There’s half a coffee cake left, I only made it yesterday.”
“No, mom, I’m fine,” Nick managed to say, pulling a chair away from the kitchen table and sitting down; he watched as his mother poured coffee, adding cream and sugar the way she’d done for him so many times. He took the mug as she slid it across the table, saw concern etching tiny lines into her forehead even as she smiled at him; he knew that even now he could explain everything away and be believed, something that had happened more times and with more people than he cared to remember…
No, mom, I’m not seeing her again – I’ve got to think of college, I don’t really have time for a girlfriend right now.
No, dad, I’m not bringing anyone with me for Christmas – work’s been crazy for months, I just want to relax.
I don’t think we ought to see each other any more – no, it isn’t anything you’ve done…
“I need to talk to you, mom,” he said, the words escaping his lips before he could stop them. “You and dad – can you get him in here? Please?”
************
“You’re quiet,” Robin said as they turned onto the road leading to Greg’s apartment building, and she chuckled softly. “Hope Emily didn’t freak you out.”
“No, she didn’t,” Greg said, somehow succeeding to smile as he spoke. “I probably ought to be flattered, right?” and he fell silent while the van was guided into the parking lot in front of the building; it was a black Dodge Grand Caravan, bought six weeks previously, but he still hadn’t summoned up the courage to learn to drive it himself. I’m not going to chauffeur you for ever, Nick had said one evening after work, and thinking about this now made Greg squeeze his eyes shut – because that had been the night when Nick had finally summoned up the courage to kiss him, and ever since then that memory had lodged itself in his heart.
Why did you tell him to go out there?
“Greg?”
“Sorry, what?” he said, realizing that they’d come to a halt. “I shouldn’t have stayed out so late, I’m tired -”
“It’s going to be okay, you know.”
“You don’t know that,” he said quietly while Robin began the process of lowering him to the ground. “You don’t know how his dad is.”
“What was it you said to me once?” she asked him, and the ramp hummed softly as he descended. “Nobody was going to see you for what you were? He does, doesn’t he?” and when he nodded silently, not trusting his voice, she smiled. “He’s a lot stronger than you think he is, Spike, you just need to have a bit more faith in him – you want me to come in with you?”
“No, I’m fine,” he said. “Thank you for tonight,” he added, and he found himself able to smile. “I liked your friends.”
“They liked you too,” Robin told him. “We’ll have to do it again, and next time you can bring Nick with you, okay?” She leaned down to hug him, and as she straightened up again she ruffled his hair. “You get some sleep, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
********
He sat in front of the TV, changing channels but focusing on none of them, knowing that he should sleep but not wanting to. He thought of all the nights there had been lately, nights when it had become harder and harder for Nick to leave – nights when they’d told each other things they’d never told anyone else, nights when he’d begun to realize that what he needed now had been with him for a lot longer than he’d realized.
He thought of the way the corners of Nick’s eyes crinkled when he really smiled, the way breath would warm his lips before they kissed – and with every one of these kisses, the realization that Nick could decide that he valued his father’s love more than the still-fragile bond that was being formed between the two of them cut a little deeper into Greg’s heart.
Why did you tell him to go out there?
Sighing gently, he turned off the TV and made his way out of the room; a short while later he was in bed, staring up at the ceiling and thinking of the nights that Nick had stayed here. Not in this bed, not yet, and Greg knew why; Nick had slept on the couch, a wall separating them, but the knowledge that he wasn’t alone had been enough to comfort Greg. Now, though, the apartment felt emptier than it had done the day he’d moved in – and as he forced his eyes to close, Greg couldn’t help thinking it was his fault.
*********
“What did you just tell us?”
“Bill…”
“Who’s put this idea in your head, Nicholas?” Nick’s father asked, ignoring his wife - no Cisco now, no affection, and Nick’s hands tightened around a mug of coffee that had gone cold long since. “If you hadn’t gone to live in Vegas -”
“I knew I was gay before I went to Vegas,” Nick said quietly. “It’s one of the reasons I took the job when they offered it to me,” and he saw a muscle twitch below his father’s left eye. “I knew I couldn’t be what I wanted to be as long as I lived here.”
“You don’t want this,” was the answer. “You can’t want this – you’ve brought women here, for God’s sake, we’ve met them -”
“I did that because I knew it’s what you wanted,” was the answer. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to tell you about this?” and Nick forced his hands away from his mug, knotting them together on the table. “I knew what you’d say, but I’ve found someone who makes me happy, and he doesn’t deserve to have me lying about what I am.”
“What you are is a Stokes man, Nicholas, and Stokes men don’t behave like this,” his father said, and then something dawned in his eyes. “Is this about the young man you brought out here in August? Greg?”
“Yes, it is,” Nick replied, forcing the words past dry lips; his gut was slowly turning to ice at the realization that his father had made the connection this quickly, and he knew the point of no return had been reached. “He makes me happy, dad, he understands me, and…”
“You brought someone like that into my house?”
“Our house,” Nick’s mother said quietly. “Our house, Bill.”
“I’ll take care of this, Jillian,” was the answer. “You’d better make plans to leave in the morning, Nicholas, before your nephews are awake.”
“We’ll drive him to the airport,” a voice said, and when Nick looked round his sister was standing in the kitchen doorway; somehow she had known what he was going to do, had come back, and he didn’t think he’d ever been so glad to see anyone in his life. “Are you afraid they’ll catch something from him?”
“Did you know about this, Margaret?”
“I’ve been trying to get him to tell you for years,” Meg said, taking a few steps towards the group at the kitchen table, “but he hasn’t – you know why? Because he was afraid of what you’d say.”
“Because he knows it’s something I won’t tolerate,” Nick’s father replied, his lips set in a thin line. “And if you’re willing to have your children exposed to this type of behavior…”
“How dare you, dad? He loves them like they’re his own!” and Meg’s voice cracked as she continued speaking. “Do you think Nicky’s a child molester now, just because you’ve found out he’s gay? He would die before he hurt my kids -”
“I was nine,” Nick said in the silence that followed, his eyes fixed on his parents and his voice a near-whisper as his composure hung by a thread. “Just about the same age Paul is, and you and mom went to see West Side Story,” because even now, he could still remember every detail of the night he’d only ever talked about to one other person in more than twenty years. “Jenny couldn’t baby-sit because she had – she had cheerleading practice, so you rang round and found someone else,” and in his mind he saw that long-ago Nick, lying in bed wearing blue pajamas and hearing the bedroom door creaking slowly open. “I was nearly asleep, and she came in my room and pulled the covers back…” He heard a soft inrush of breath, saw his mother’s left hand fly up to cover her mouth, but somehow he managed to keep going. “She touched me and I couldn’t move, I wanted to tell her to stop but I couldn’t make myself speak – she said it was a secret, and I shouldn’t tell anyone because they wouldn’t believe me or they’d say I must have wanted her to do it,” and he blinked rapidly as his vision blurred. “I felt sick, I felt dirty, I just lay there waiting for you to come home…”
“Nick -”
“No, mom, let me finish,” he said. “I thought what if she was right? What if they don’t believe me? What if they think I did want her to do it? I knew you guys would be ashamed of me if you thought I did that, so I just kept quiet and lived with it.” He clenched one hand into a fist, the pain of his nails digging into his skin furnishing him with the will to continue. “You know when I knew I had to come up and tell you about Greg? It was after I told him about this and he didn’t see me any differently,” and his mind was suddenly filled with the memory of that night three weeks since - when he had lain on the couch with his head in Greg’s lap, crying as though he would never stop while a hand combed through his hair and a slightly unsteady voice said it’s okay, Nicky over and over. “I never told any of the girls I went out with why I don’t like someone lying behind me in bed or touching me when I’m asleep -” He paused, sucked in a deep breath, forced himself to keep speaking before he lost his nerve. “I always said when I found someone I cared about, someone I wanted to be with, someone I knew wouldn’t turn their back on me for something that wasn’t my fault, then I’d tell them – but it didn’t feel right no matter how many girls I went out with! Didn’t you ever wonder why you never saw any of them more than once?” and he was unable to take his eyes off his parents’ faces. “Meg figured it out, she asked me if I was having thoughts about guys, and that was back when I was seventeen - she said I should just tell you, she said it wasn’t right to go through my whole life being something I’m not, but I couldn’t!”
“We’ll find you someone to talk to,” Nick’s father said, his face and voice like that of a stranger. “A therapist, someone who knows about these things -”
“What things?” Nick asked. “What happened when I was a kid? Or me being gay?” and he saw the muscle twitch below his father’s eye again. “Talking to someone isn’t going to change that, dad.” He pushed his chair back, stood up on legs that barely had any strength left in them. “I’ve been hiding things most of my life, and I’m tired of doing it,” he said. “I still love you, I still want you to be proud of me, but if you’re not then I’ve got people who care about me and I’ll manage.” He turned and walked out of the kitchen, hearing someone begin to cry behind him but not knowing who, and the ascent to the second floor seemed to take forever; eventually, he closed the door behind him and sat on his bed, hands clasped between his knees to stop them shaking, and the handful of hours between the ranch and Vegas stretched into eternity as he recalled a conversation that had taken place the night he’d decided to fly out here. I’ll understand if you can’t, Greg had said. I don’t want you to choose between us, but your folks need to know…
********
Wednesday, 5 a.m
“What have you got for me, Greg?”
“Neither of the samples matched the boyfriend,” he answered, pivoting round to face the speaker. “Nothing on the fingernail scrapings, but I did get a hit through CODIS on the vaginal swab,” and he saw Warrick raise an enquiring eyebrow. “Mike Tennant, thirty four, got out of jail three weeks ago for robbery…”
“And? C’mon, Greg, it’s been a long night.”
“Bunch of priors for rape.”
“I’ll get Brass to haul him in, find out who else was there with him,” Warrick said, pinching the top of his nose and sighing the way he always did when a case got to him – something that didn’t happen often, but Greg knew his colleague had found it hard to deal with the victim’s screaming toddler being discovered next to her mother’s body. “Thanks, man.”
“Any time.”
“Breakfast?” Warrick asked over his shoulder as he turned to leave the room. “Or have you got to get home?” and in the few moments of silence that followed Greg thought of what “home” was going to be like for the next day and a half.
“No, I haven’t,” he said. “Breakfast would be good.”
********
6.15 a.m
Through the half-open bedroom window, he heard the sound of his father’s car starting up; he listened as the noise of the engine became more and more distant, and when he was unable to make it out any longer Nick pushed the covers back. Forgoing a shower for fear of waking anyone, he put on the clothes he’d laid out the night before; he placed his pajama bottoms in his suitcase before zipping it up, and once he’d done this he made his way out of the room.
He was tip-toeing soundlessly towards the stairs when a groggy, fretful whimper made him turn his head in the direction of the room next to his. Grace had pulled herself upright and was clinging to the crib rails for support, drool covering her chin and her eyes swimming with tears; stepping into his niece’s room, he picked her up and made a slow journey downstairs with her draped across his left hip.
“Ssh, sweet pea,” he murmured as they entered the kitchen and an agitated “um um um” echoed in the otherwise silent room; he took a clean dishcloth from the drawer next to the sink, giving it to Grace while he opened the freezer door with his free hand and retrieved a handful of ice cubes. Wrapping them awkwardly in one end of the cloth, he walked across the kitchen and opened the door leading out onto the deck; he lowered himself carefully into one of the chairs, settling Grace in his lap before giving her the cloth-covered ice. He watched her cram as much of it into her mouth as she could, chewing on it while her eyes began to close again; five minutes later she was sound asleep, the front of her pink one-piece outfit soaked with water, and when the cloth was plucked from between her lips she didn’t stir.
Footsteps creaked behind him, and Nick turned to see his brother-in-law standing in the doorway; he started to get up, his left arm braced securely around his niece, but Russ shot him a quizzical look before shaking his head. “Thought I’d find you out here,” he said, sitting in the chair next to Nick’s. “Poor baby, she’s been cutting teeth for a week, I don’t think Meg or I have slept for more than three hours at a time,” and a fond smile curved his lips as he reached to stroke his daughter’s hair. “Are you okay, Nick?”
“I shouldn’t have done it,” Nick replied, looking down at the sleeping child in his lap; he recalled the previous evening, lying in bed and hearing his nephews’ excited voices as they returned from the bowling alley, their father hushing them and saying they could tell Uncle Nick about it tomorrow…“Not while you guys were here.”
“I’m glad we were here,” Russ said quietly. “I can’t imagine what it would have been like to do that by yourself,” and he shifted his chair slightly so that the two of them were facing each other. “Did you call the airline yet?”
“Their office opens at eight, I’ll take care of it then.”
“Come back to Fort Worth with us today,” was the answer. “Stay the night, Meg and the kids can drive you to the airport tomorrow morning.”
“Russ…”
“The kids would like it, and so would we,” was his brother-in-law’s immediate response. “We don’t get to see enough of you as it is, and if Bill thinks that being gay makes you a bad person that’s his loss,” and as Nick closed his eyes he felt a hand rest on his arm. “You’re godfather to our three guys, man, did you honestly think we’d cut you off?”
“Daddy?”
“Hey, big guy,” Russ said, smiling as he placed an arm round his youngest son. “How come you’re up so early?”
“I could hear you guys talking through the window,” Rob said, his face creased with sudden concern. “Why’s Uncle Nick crying, daddy?”
“Do you remember the guy who was here when we stayed here this summer? The one with the wheelchair?”
“Greg?” Rob said, not taking his eyes off Nick’s face. “He was cool, daddy, he told us all these cheats for our PS2 games.”
“Well, kiddo, your Uncle Nick and Greg like each other the same way your mom and I like each other, and grandpa Bill isn’t real happy about it.”
“Like a boyfriend?”
“Pretty much like that,” Russ said, and his son shrugged with the matter-of-fact acceptance of a small child. “You know what?”
“What?”
“I think your Uncle Nick would probably like a hug,” Rob’s father said, and a moment later arms were wound round Nick’s neck so tightly he could hardly breathe; he let his chin rest on sleep-tousled hair, his eyes meeting his brother-in-law’s, and after a long time he summoned the strength to speak.
“I’ll come back with you if the offer’s still open.”
“Is Uncle Nick coming to our house, daddy?”
“Just for tonight, kiddo.”
“Yay!” Rob crowed, letting go of Nick and grinning from ear to ear. “Can he sleep in my room?”
********
Back in the bedroom, following a breakfast he’d hardly touched, he sat looking out of the window at a view that was one of his earliest childhood memories. Outside the door, he could make out his sister’s voice as she directed her family’s preparations for the imminent departure, telling Russ to get Gracie’s things out of the fridge and admonishing her sons to remember all their game cartridges because grandma isn’t going to mail them like she did last time; there had been so many other visits when he’d joked about this, asking Meg if she oughtn’t to have been a drill sergeant instead of a lawyer, but this time he couldn’t make himself do it.
“Nick?” a voice said behind him, and when he didn’t answer he heard the bedroom door click shut; seconds later the bed creaked, and although he didn’t look round his nostrils could pick up the Chanel no. 5 he’d breathed in since he’d been an infant.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and it was all he could manage to say before something stung the backs of his eyes; he squeezed them shut, sucking in a deep breath, and when one of his hands was clasped he hung onto it tightly. “I’m sorry, mom…”
“Look at me, Nicky.” The same endearment she’d always used, and when he forced his head up he saw shadows beneath his mother’s eyes that told him she hadn’t slept any more than he had – but there was something in those eyes that made his breath catch in his throat, and the words he spoke were forced from a dry mouth.
“Did you know?”
“I had an idea,” his mother told him, folding her hands over his. “I used to tell myself you just hadn’t found the right girl, but I think that was because I knew how your dad would react if he ever found out – then I saw you with Greg this summer, and that’s when I knew.”
“He didn’t know how I felt,” Nick said quietly. “Not till right before we left to go back to Vegas.”
“You were happy, though, I could see that much,” was the answer. “He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”
“He has for a long time,” Nick said softly. “I was just too afraid he’d laugh his ass off if I said anything, but then that last night we were here – he said he thought nobody was ever going to want him because of what happened to him, and I had to tell him it wasn’t true,” and he tore his eyes away from his mother’s face to look out of the window again. “He knows everything, mom, and none of it makes any difference - I’ve hurt you, and I’m sorry, but…”
“The only thing that hurts me is you keeping all this in for so long,” his mother said. “There’s a difference between being strong and stopping yourself from being happy,” and she waited until Nick was looking at her before she spoke again. “Your dad and I aren’t always going to be here, Nicky, you have to make your own life,” she said, and a gentle smile touched her lips. “It isn’t that far to Vegas.”
“Mom -”
“You’re still my son, and I’m not going to lose you over this,” was the response, and before either of them could say anything else the door burst open.
“Are you ready, Uncle Nick? Mommy said for you to hurry up or we’ll go without you!”
********
“Where’s Uncle Nick gonna sit?”
“Next to Grace and one of you guys,” Russ told Paul. “I’ve folded the spare seat down where we put the bags, and one of you can use that.”
“I want to sit next to Uncle Nick!” Rob piped up. “Please, daddy?”
“No, I’m the oldest, stupid, I get to!”
“Both of you quit it,” Nick said. “Rob can sit next to me, we’ll stop for McDonalds on the way, and then the two of you can switch places,” and he watched Rob stick his tongue out at his older brother before climbing into the back of the car. He turned towards the house and saw his mother coming down the steps; closing the distance between them, he wrapped his arms round her and hung onto her tightly for a long time before the two of them broke apart.
“Will you ring me?” his mother asked, framing his face with her hands. “As soon as you’re back in Vegas?”
“I will, mom,” he said, his voice slightly unsteady, and he leaned forward for another hug. He heard a whispered command to look after Greg, heard himself say that he would, and then he turned away; moments later he was in the car, fastening his seatbelt as Grace tugged at his hair, and then he was craning his neck round to look at his mother standing in front of the house as the car moved down the driveway.
********
Thursday, 8 a.m
“How come Uncle Nick’s plane has to leave so early?” Rob said, his voice scratchy. “I’m tired.”
“If you’d gone to sleep when I told you to, mister, you wouldn’t be so cranky,” Meg retorted as she guided the car into a space in front of Departures. “You’re going to bed early tonight.”
“Mo-om!”
“You mind me, now,” Meg told her youngest son as she killed the engine and climbed out. “Paul, are you going to help Uncle Nick get his suitcase out?” and she watched as Paul unbuckled his seatbelt and scrambled out of the car. “You all set there, little brother?”
“I told you to stop calling me that about twenty years ago,” Nick said, but he was smiling as he got out of the passenger seat. “You be good for your momma, sweet pea,” he told Grace, leaning into the back seat and planting a kiss on her forehead. “’Bye, kiddo,” he said, reaching to ruffle Rob’s hair, and he straightened up just as Paul lugged the suitcase onto the sidewalk. “Thanks, Meg,” he told his sister, wrapping his arms round her and hugging her tightly.
“Any time,” his sister told him, blinking rapidly, once the two of them had pulled apart. “You call me, okay?”
“I will,” he said. “Soon as I get back.” He lifted his suitcase, hugged Paul with his free arm, and watched as his sister and her son got back into their car; he kept watching until it disappeared from his field of vision, and then he turned in the direction of the automatic doors that would mark the start of his journey home.
********
Greg had been awake for most of the night, finally falling asleep at around five o’clock in the morning; he awoke to the sun high on the bedroom wall, the beginnings of a headache pulsing at his temples and the sound of the front door opening.
“Take this,” he says, placing something in Nick’s hand – a key, its brand-new sheen catching the light, attached to a black leather fob. “Mi casa, and all that,” but both of them know that this means much more…
“Nick?” he called out, pushing himself up against the pillows and shifting to the edge of the bed. “That you?” and moments later a figure stood in the bedroom doorway. A suitcase dropped to the floor, and Nick walked unsteadily across the room; by the time he dropped to his knees next to the bed, reaching to wrap his arms round Greg’s waist, both of them were crying – but as Greg leaned down awkwardly to curve a hand round the back of Nick’s head, he knew they were tears of relief.
*********
Six months later
"Can't we stay up a bit longer?"
"It's almost midnight now," Nick said with a grin, unhooking the control pads from the PlayStation despite groans from Rob and Paul. "You two get to sleep, and Greg's going to take us all out for breakfast tomorrow."
"Can we get pancakes?"
"Whatever you want, if you'll go to sleep," Nick answered, leaning down to tuck the throw around his nephews as they lay on the couch. "'Night, guys," and he turned off the light as he left the room.
"Nice bargaining tactics," Greg said with a grin as Nick closed the bedroom door. "You'd be a lousy hostage negotiator."
"You were the one letting them play Silent Hill till they got nightmares last time they slept over," Nick retorted, climbing into bed and turning off the light. He shifted until he was lying against Greg's side, smiling when a kiss was planted on top of his head, and he fell asleep with the slow thump of his lover's heart echoing in his ears.
FIN
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}