Fic: Dig the Hole Wide and Deep
Nov. 21st, 2007 08:12 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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nickngregTitle: Dig the Hole Wide and Deep
Rating: NC-17 for graphic sexual scenes.
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Warnings: None.
Summary Nick and Greg are together even though apart.
Spoilers: None
A/N: This is a sequel to ‘Putting Down Roots’ which you can find
here
Previous parts of this story can be found here
A
“While I’m far away from you my baby
I know it’s hard for you my baby
Because it’s hard for me my baby
And the darkest hour is just before the dawn.”
“Dedicated to the One I Love” by the Mama’s and the Papa’s
Well I could have quoted Euripedes which is where the phrase supposedly came from and then of course, there is old Willy ‘S’; Shakespeare. He used a form of that phrase in The Merchant of Venice but I’m a modern sort of narrator so I prefer Mama Cass and company.
And if this phrase contains any truth at all…then we are in for one hell of a dawn because things are pretty dark right now. Both Nick and Greg are having the same problem; they can’t sleep. Greg is back in therapy with Alan (I’ll tell you about that in a moment). First, I want to bitch a little about the way things have turned out here.
You see, I sort of side with Greg at this point. He’s the one who was physically brutalized by someone he loved and trusted and he’s having nightmares about it; not just sometimes but almost every time he closes his eyes. And up until recently, when he woke up, his reaction was the same; he barfed big time.
Nick, on the other hand, is having erotic dreams about Greg and he’s to the point where he’s soiling his clothes and his bedding a lot more than is normal so now he’s afraid to go to sleep. But at least, he’s having a good time with his dreams. All he has to worry about is an extra laundry charge.
He’s been making a lot of progress in his sessions with Alan and that’s where we pick up our story.
Alan was beginning to think that he might cure Nick Stokes without ever truly understanding Nick Stokes and he hated that. As you have probably guessed by now, Alan is pretty egotistical when it comes to his skills as a therapist. But Nick was pushing him to the limit.
After Nick’s description of his first time having casual sex with a stranger (maybe not so strange) and Alan’s realization that Nick’s description of his ‘perfect’ partner was a Greg-clone, Alan was pretty sure, they were well on their way to more revelations. Boy was he wrong.
They started the next afternoon where they had left off with an examination of what Nick had disclosed. After the first hour, Nick was confused and Alan was pissed. It did not seem possible but Nick absolutely did not recognize the prototype he was describing. Alan had tried everything but getting in Nicks face and saying, “Look Stokes! THE…GUY…YOU…FUCKED…IS…GREG!!!!!
He prided himself on never leading his patients or putting words in their mouth. He knew the only true mental healing was accomplished by the patient themselves under the skillful direction of a master healer (Himself). But finally, he stopped pacing his office and said, “Nick, I am going to describe someone to you. I want you to close your eyes, listen to my voice, think about your family, friends and co-workers and see if anyone you know fits this description.”
When Nick was comfortable and ready, Alan said, “A hair taller than you, brown hair with blond streaks or tips, dark brown eyes with long eyelashes, very slim build but not skinny just more streamlined with long, lean muscles not the kind you usually associate with body builders, for example.”
Nick had started nodding when Alan said ‘dark, brown eyes’. He opened his eyes, looked at Alan and said, “That’s Greg. What’s your point?”
“My point is, I took that description from your words yesterday when you described Dave to me.”
There was a long silence. Finally, Nick’s mouth dropped open, he looked at Alan with surprise written all over his face and said, “My God, they’re Greg. They’ve all been Greg right from the beginning.”
“BINGO. Now you’ve got it. So when did your attraction to Greg start?”
Nick thought for a moment and then said slowly, “The moment I met him. I remember thinking how soft his lips looked and wondering if they would feel that soft on my di..uh my body.”
“Did you know you were gay then?”
“You have got to be kidding. I wasn’t about to even think the word to myself.”
“Nick, what the hell did you think you were doing when you went to the gay bars and shot your load all over anyone who happened to be in aiming distance? Did you really think that was what ‘het’ guys were doing?”
“I wasn’t thinking, OK? I was just feeling. My thoughts were driving me crazy. I was like a cat chasing my tail. I kept trying to do what everyone wanted me to do. I tried to get interested in all the pretty, little Texas belles with the right upbringing and the same social circle as ours. I tried to imagine myself married to one of them and producing more Stokes for my parent’s but every time I did, I usually wound up in the john, worshiping the porcelain god. Then I moved here and started over. Only it wasn’t really a new start; just different women with different accents. Every time I saw one of the for more than 3 or 4 dates, they started acting like we were an item and I started puking again. I tried until the night I went to ‘alterna’ and danced to the beat of the drums and the bass that turned into the beat of my pulse and when I felt that big prick rubbing against my ass, I got a thrill, I had never felt before. When he pulled me out of my pant’s and started jacking me, I felt every fear and doubt fall away and when he pulled my hand back and wrapped it around his cock, I stopped doing anything but feeling.”
That was the start of some intensive discussions. Over the next few weeks, they covered a lot of ground starting with Nick's very embarrassed remembrance of asking Greg to be a 'friend with benefits' when he realized he couldn't get off at the clubs anymore.
"So you realized that your 'type' was a Greg-clone?"
"Yeah I did then, but I managed to push it down pretty damn far when he shot me down." They went through Nicks reactions to the Amy Hendler incident, his encounter with Nigel Crane and finally, his ordeal at the hands of Walter Gordon. At first, it was like pulling teeth but eventually, Nick realized that the more he heaped on Alan, the less he had to try to stomach himself. He didn’t realize it but he was coming to trust that Alan really wasn’t going to judge him. The questions he asked were to make Nick think about his actions and the reasons behind them. Nick began to take an interest in his own treatment and started spending time reading about PTSD and MPO. He did not think he had multiple personalities because he never had black-outs. He always knew where he was and what he was doing. He just didn’t always know WHY he was doing it.
At the same time he began to actively participate in his treatment, he also began to re-instate his visits from Bobby, Steve, his parents and Greg. Everyone seemed to be overjoyed to spend time with him again; everyone that is except for Greg.
* * * * *
Greg was having his own problems. The horrible nightmare he had was just the first of many and eventually, he was afraid to close his eyes. The lack of sleep and the inability to keep food on his stomach was causing some bad physical side effects. He had started shaking again and he was losing weight; weight he really couldn’t afford to lose. He was so tired, he was having trouble concentrating and it took him much longer to process evidence because he had to double and triple check everything. He got away with things a lot longer than he should have because the gang war was beginning to wind down and he and Bobby hardly ever even saw each other any more. It might have gone on even longer if Archie had not wandered into ballistics early one morning and asked Bobby if he’d heard from Nick. Bobby told his usual lie: yeah he’d gotten a call the other night, (thank God at least now he could say that he thought Cath or Warrick or Brass had also talked with him).
Just as Archie was leaving he turned back around and said, “You know, I hope Nick comes back soon. I don’t think Greg is going to make it much longer.”
Bobby jerked around and said, “Hey, hang on there. What do you mean; he isn’t going to make it much longer?”
Archie looked at Bobby a little surprised at the intensity of his reaction. “I just meant, he’s working himself to death. They all are but he seems to be hit the hardest; I guess because he’s only a level 1 and not used to working all the doubles and triples. He looks like death warmed over; hands are shaking again and dark circles under his eyes. I heard Grissom tell him he was to go home at the end of shift this morning and not come back until he’d had some solid sleep.”
Bobby nodded and said thanks. He started putting two and two together. The last time he’d been to the clinic, Nick had said he was worried about Greg. He didn’t look well and he didn’t seem to want to see Nick as much as he had at the beginning. Nick had even asked Bobby if Greg was seeing someone. Bobby could honestly tell him that as hard as they were working lately, he felt like he needed to take a picture of Steve to work with him so he’d recognize him when he finally got to see him again. Nick had seemed to accept his words but as he was leaving, he’d put his hand on Bobby’s arm and told him he didn’t know what he would do if Greg found someone new before he got well enough to tell him what he meant to him and how sorry he was for everything that had AND hadn’t happened between them. Bobby had again reassured Nick that he couldn’t say anything about their personal life but he knew for a fact the only person Greg was seeing was his friend Annabelle.
Bobby went into high gear and got his current test completed and all the evidence tagged and secured and went to find Greg.
* * * *
Bobby took one look at Greg and man-handled him into his car. He walked over, took Greg’s duffle bag out of the back of his car, threw it in his back seat, ordered Greg to buckle up and headed for his house. Greg tried to argue with him but even his normal stubbornness seemed to be apathetic and listless.
Bobby got him home, out of the car and settled him at the kitchen table. Steve had already left, dropping Chelsi off at school on his way to work so they had the house to themselves. Bobby fixed bacon, scrambled eggs and toast. When he handed Greg a small glass of apple juice, he just looked at him and said, “What am I supposed to do with this?”
Bobby glared at him and said, “You drink it dumb ass, that’s what you do with it.”
Greg looked at the juice again and looked up at Bobby and said, “But I want coffee.”
“Well, you ain’t gonna get coffee. You need a good solid eight hours of sleep and you need some food in your stomach and that’s what you’re gonna get if I have to feed you myself. Don’t make me pull age and rank on you Sanders. You know damn well I can and will do it.”
Greg put his hands up in surrender and said, “Okay, I’ll eat. I’m hungry and I have to admit that bacon smells great.”
They ate their breakfast together, enjoying the companionship and occasionally sharing a few words about work and Chelsi and Steve. When Greg was finishing off his fourth piece of toast and jam, Bobby got up and fixed two cups of milk well doctored with cinnamon, nutmeg and sugar that was flavored with a vanilla bean. He put them in the micro-wave and sat down to wait for the ding. “Now talk Sanders and I mean unload. I want every damn thing you’ve been thinking and doing for the last two weeks that’s made you look like this.”
Greg tried everything he could to evade Bobby’s pointed glare and even more pointed questions but finally admitted that when it came to getting down to the truth, Bobby had missed his calling. He should have been an interrogator. He didn’t even realize when Bobby handed him the two Tylenol PM pills and told him to swallow them with his warm milk. He let it go and told Bobby about the horrible dreams and the bouts of vomiting that followed when he woke up in terror. He did hold back that it was Nick and that he’d raped him. He managed to lie just enough so that Bobby thought it was a delayed reaction from the Demetrious Jones affair. He ended by telling Bobby he was afraid to go to sleep now and he did everything he could to stay awake.
Bobby said that was going to stop right then and after Greg had almost dislocated his jaw with another huge yawn, he realized that Bobby had slipped him something a little stronger than plain aspirin and he was not going to be able to stay awake. He started to panic and was almost in a full blown anxiety attack when Bobby told him to relax; he was going to sleep right there and he would be with him to soothe him if and when the nightmare returned. Greg had one brief moment of his old sassy self and asked Bobby if he meant he had to sleep right there on the kitchen table.
Bobby shook his head and said, “No smart ass. Come on. We’re going to bed.”
He took Greg into the guest room, asked him if he could get himself undressed and into bed and when told of course, he wasn’t a baby. He went into the guest bathroom to check and make sure Greg’s toothbrush and personal stuff was still there from when he’d stayed with them before. When he came out, Greg was sprawled on his back across the bed with his clothes on and one shoe half off. Bobby just grinned and said, “God, it’s like talking care of another kid.” He finished undressing Greg down to his boxers and maneuvered him under the covers. He pulled the blankets up to his chin, affectionately rubbed his hand over his unruly curls and left the room to get himself ready for bed.
* * * *
Bobby was torn out of a sound sleep by the sound of someone pleading in terror. He was already on his feet and heading down the hall before he was awake enough to realize it was Greg and he was begging someone to please not do that to him again, please don’t do it and he would be good. He would do the dishes and not eat in the living room and he would always get all the groceries on the list if he just wouldn’t hurt him again. He wasn’t healed from the last time and he didn’t think he could stand to be torn open again.
Bobby had always heard the expression, ‘his blood ran cold’ but that was the first time it had ever happened to him. He knew in an instant exactly what Greg was dreaming about….and who.
He burst through the door to find Greg in a wild tangle of bed clothes, drenched in sweat trying to hide behind his pillow and holding it across his face so tight he was literally smothering himself. Bobby grabbed the pillow out of his hands and jerked Greg into his arms. He held him tight and began to rock him the way he used to rock Chelsi when she would have a bad dream at night. He rubbed his hand up and down his back and up to his head and then back down again keeping his hand moving in a slow steady rhythm. He kept telling Greg he was all right, it was just a dream, Greg was safe with him; he needed to wake up and realize he was safe. It took a while but when Greg did wake up it was immediate and his reaction was also. Bobby saw and felt him gag. He knew he couldn’t get him to the bathroom but he grabbed the waste basket beside the bed and held it while Greg lost all his excellent breakfast. After he emptied his stomach, Greg just went limp in Bobby’s arms. He was crying but it was silent and hopeless. There was so much sadness and heartbreak in his posture, Bobby felt himself grieving right along with him. He got Greg up on his feet and almost carried him down the hall to his bedroom. He sat him in a chair and told him not to move. When he tried to get up Greg clung to his hand with what little strength he had left, begging him not to leave him alone, not to leave him with his dreams. Bobby told him he wouldn’t. He got Greg up, took him into the master bathroom and sat him carefully on the toilet. He started filling the big Jacuzzi tub with warm, almost too hot water, saying a silent thanks to his partner Steve for insisting on spending the money on the extravagant thing. When the tub was half full, he put some lavender and aloe bath salts in the water and let the force of the water mix them in the tub.
He never gave a thought to the possibility that someone might wonder about a rough, tough he-man like him, using scented bath salts. He had listened long and hard to Alan’s theories about the total treatment of body and mind. He knew Alan and his partner practiced aroma-therapy at their clinic and in their personal lives. Steve had raised an eyebrow the first time he’d done it at home for them but after a nice relaxing soak in jasmine scented water, he’d apologized for doubting his partner. And believe me, when Steve decided to apologize to Bobby, Bobby was a very happy, sore, satisfied man. Now he was going to use everything he could think of short of a rubber mallet behind the ear to get Greg to relax and rest.
He pulled the young man to his feet, pulled his boxers off and made him step into the water. Greg hissed a little at the heat of the water but after a few seconds he became used to the temperature and obediently settled down into the warm frothy bath. Bobby turned on the jets and let the waters do their magic on Greg’s sore tired muscles. He started to get up but Greg again grabbed onto him as though he was drowning and Bobby was the only thing keeping him from going under. Bobby tried to tell him he was just going to rinse off in the shower but Greg was too terrified at the thought of him leaving him to understand. Finally Bobby said to hell with it, stripped off his briefs and crawled into the tub with Greg. It was big enough for both of them without any inappropriate spooning. Right then, Bobby knew anything that could be construed as sexual in nature would send Greg over the edge into screaming hysteria. When he settled in the tub at the other end where Greg could see him, he calmed down and began to relax in the heat of the water. Bobby gently pried his hand out of Greg’s and put Greg’s hand on his leg where he could still feel him but Bobby could lay back and relax also. With both of them in the tub, there was no chance of them drowning and the inevitable happened. Both men were exhausted and dozed off in the warm swirling water.
* * * *
Steve Austin (and yes he took a hell of a lot of teasing about his name. It didn’t help that with his size and strength he really could have been the six million dollar man) was used to the unexpected. After all, he was a gay man living with another gay man who loved guns the way most men loved cars. When they knew they were going to get Chelsi, they had spent days going over every inch of their house to make it baby proof. Steve found guns in places he didn’t know you could put guns. Some of them had been there so long; Bobby couldn’t remember putting them there. However, finding guns in strange places was not quite the same thing as finding the love of your life, your spouse of fourteen years in your bed in your house with a very naked young man wrapped around him hanging on to him for dear life.
Steve, quietly backed out of their bedroom, intercepted their lively little girl before she could see her ‘daddy’ in bed with another man and told her to go change out of her school clothes into her play jeans and to be very quiet, Daddy was still asleep and as hard as he had been working lately, he needed all the rest he could get.
Now Steve knew without a doubt, he knew that nothing was going on. Well at least, he knew nothing sexual was going on. Obviously, something was going on or Greg would not be in their bed wrapped around his husband. He was perturbed.
Bobby and Greg were dead to the world. Steve watched as Greg began to move a little in his sleep. He heard him let out a small moan and almost immediately, Bobby, still sound asleep, began to rub his arm and soothe him. He cataloged the movement and recognized it as the same one Bobby used to soothe Chelsi when she was a baby and had bouts of colic. He watched Greg settle back down even closer to Bobby if such a thing were possible. It only took a minute or two and neither man woke once during the episode. Steve filed the incident away in his mind to be considered later and went to take care of his daughter.
* * * *
It was almost 10.30 pm. Steve had fed their daughter and made it a special dinner to make up for ‘Daddy’ not waking up to join them. He set the table with the good china and put candles and flowers on the table. He told his little girl he was going to enjoy having her all to himself, just the two of them and pretended they were out on a date. Chelsi was a special little girl. She had realized at a very early age that her family life was nothing like her classmate’s. It wasn’t worse, just different.
Not only did she have a ‘daddy’ and a ‘papa’, her ‘daddy’ worked a really strange job with really strange hours. Most of the time, it was wonderful for her because she had her papa all evening and her ‘daddy’ all day. But there was a draw back; often her ‘daddy’ would be at work for hours on end and when he was home, he was so tired, he would sleep all day. This was the first time she ever remembered him sleeping all day and not waking up to tell her good night while he was getting ready to go to work.
Papa explained as well as he could about the ‘war’ currently playing out in the seamier streets of their home town and why her daddy was working so hard. He told her this was a very unusual thing to happen and hopefully, the work her daddy was doing would go a long way to making sure something like this would never happen again and they had to try to support daddy as much as they could. That meant that papa and Chelsi had to let daddy sleep when ever he could.
Chelsi agreed that a bowl of ice cream before she went to sleep would help a little, but only a little to make up for letting daddy sleep and not waking him up for a good night kiss. Steve was well aware this was blackmail, pure and simple, but she was the most adorable little blackmailer he’d ever encountered so he paid the ‘blood price’; a small scoop of blackberry ice cream with whipped cream and a cherry on top.
Now, he sighed as he got up and went to wake his sleeping spouse and the gorgeous young man he’d been sleeping with all day.
Rating: NC-17 for graphic sexual scenes.
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Warnings: None.
Summary Nick and Greg are together even though apart.
Spoilers: None
A/N: This is a sequel to ‘Putting Down Roots’ which you can find
here
Previous parts of this story can be found here
A
“While I’m far away from you my baby
I know it’s hard for you my baby
Because it’s hard for me my baby
And the darkest hour is just before the dawn.”
“Dedicated to the One I Love” by the Mama’s and the Papa’s
Well I could have quoted Euripedes which is where the phrase supposedly came from and then of course, there is old Willy ‘S’; Shakespeare. He used a form of that phrase in The Merchant of Venice but I’m a modern sort of narrator so I prefer Mama Cass and company.
And if this phrase contains any truth at all…then we are in for one hell of a dawn because things are pretty dark right now. Both Nick and Greg are having the same problem; they can’t sleep. Greg is back in therapy with Alan (I’ll tell you about that in a moment). First, I want to bitch a little about the way things have turned out here.
You see, I sort of side with Greg at this point. He’s the one who was physically brutalized by someone he loved and trusted and he’s having nightmares about it; not just sometimes but almost every time he closes his eyes. And up until recently, when he woke up, his reaction was the same; he barfed big time.
Nick, on the other hand, is having erotic dreams about Greg and he’s to the point where he’s soiling his clothes and his bedding a lot more than is normal so now he’s afraid to go to sleep. But at least, he’s having a good time with his dreams. All he has to worry about is an extra laundry charge.
He’s been making a lot of progress in his sessions with Alan and that’s where we pick up our story.
Alan was beginning to think that he might cure Nick Stokes without ever truly understanding Nick Stokes and he hated that. As you have probably guessed by now, Alan is pretty egotistical when it comes to his skills as a therapist. But Nick was pushing him to the limit.
After Nick’s description of his first time having casual sex with a stranger (maybe not so strange) and Alan’s realization that Nick’s description of his ‘perfect’ partner was a Greg-clone, Alan was pretty sure, they were well on their way to more revelations. Boy was he wrong.
They started the next afternoon where they had left off with an examination of what Nick had disclosed. After the first hour, Nick was confused and Alan was pissed. It did not seem possible but Nick absolutely did not recognize the prototype he was describing. Alan had tried everything but getting in Nicks face and saying, “Look Stokes! THE…GUY…YOU…FUCKED…IS…GREG!!!!!
He prided himself on never leading his patients or putting words in their mouth. He knew the only true mental healing was accomplished by the patient themselves under the skillful direction of a master healer (Himself). But finally, he stopped pacing his office and said, “Nick, I am going to describe someone to you. I want you to close your eyes, listen to my voice, think about your family, friends and co-workers and see if anyone you know fits this description.”
When Nick was comfortable and ready, Alan said, “A hair taller than you, brown hair with blond streaks or tips, dark brown eyes with long eyelashes, very slim build but not skinny just more streamlined with long, lean muscles not the kind you usually associate with body builders, for example.”
Nick had started nodding when Alan said ‘dark, brown eyes’. He opened his eyes, looked at Alan and said, “That’s Greg. What’s your point?”
“My point is, I took that description from your words yesterday when you described Dave to me.”
There was a long silence. Finally, Nick’s mouth dropped open, he looked at Alan with surprise written all over his face and said, “My God, they’re Greg. They’ve all been Greg right from the beginning.”
“BINGO. Now you’ve got it. So when did your attraction to Greg start?”
Nick thought for a moment and then said slowly, “The moment I met him. I remember thinking how soft his lips looked and wondering if they would feel that soft on my di..uh my body.”
“Did you know you were gay then?”
“You have got to be kidding. I wasn’t about to even think the word to myself.”
“Nick, what the hell did you think you were doing when you went to the gay bars and shot your load all over anyone who happened to be in aiming distance? Did you really think that was what ‘het’ guys were doing?”
“I wasn’t thinking, OK? I was just feeling. My thoughts were driving me crazy. I was like a cat chasing my tail. I kept trying to do what everyone wanted me to do. I tried to get interested in all the pretty, little Texas belles with the right upbringing and the same social circle as ours. I tried to imagine myself married to one of them and producing more Stokes for my parent’s but every time I did, I usually wound up in the john, worshiping the porcelain god. Then I moved here and started over. Only it wasn’t really a new start; just different women with different accents. Every time I saw one of the for more than 3 or 4 dates, they started acting like we were an item and I started puking again. I tried until the night I went to ‘alterna’ and danced to the beat of the drums and the bass that turned into the beat of my pulse and when I felt that big prick rubbing against my ass, I got a thrill, I had never felt before. When he pulled me out of my pant’s and started jacking me, I felt every fear and doubt fall away and when he pulled my hand back and wrapped it around his cock, I stopped doing anything but feeling.”
That was the start of some intensive discussions. Over the next few weeks, they covered a lot of ground starting with Nick's very embarrassed remembrance of asking Greg to be a 'friend with benefits' when he realized he couldn't get off at the clubs anymore.
"So you realized that your 'type' was a Greg-clone?"
"Yeah I did then, but I managed to push it down pretty damn far when he shot me down." They went through Nicks reactions to the Amy Hendler incident, his encounter with Nigel Crane and finally, his ordeal at the hands of Walter Gordon. At first, it was like pulling teeth but eventually, Nick realized that the more he heaped on Alan, the less he had to try to stomach himself. He didn’t realize it but he was coming to trust that Alan really wasn’t going to judge him. The questions he asked were to make Nick think about his actions and the reasons behind them. Nick began to take an interest in his own treatment and started spending time reading about PTSD and MPO. He did not think he had multiple personalities because he never had black-outs. He always knew where he was and what he was doing. He just didn’t always know WHY he was doing it.
At the same time he began to actively participate in his treatment, he also began to re-instate his visits from Bobby, Steve, his parents and Greg. Everyone seemed to be overjoyed to spend time with him again; everyone that is except for Greg.
* * * * *
Greg was having his own problems. The horrible nightmare he had was just the first of many and eventually, he was afraid to close his eyes. The lack of sleep and the inability to keep food on his stomach was causing some bad physical side effects. He had started shaking again and he was losing weight; weight he really couldn’t afford to lose. He was so tired, he was having trouble concentrating and it took him much longer to process evidence because he had to double and triple check everything. He got away with things a lot longer than he should have because the gang war was beginning to wind down and he and Bobby hardly ever even saw each other any more. It might have gone on even longer if Archie had not wandered into ballistics early one morning and asked Bobby if he’d heard from Nick. Bobby told his usual lie: yeah he’d gotten a call the other night, (thank God at least now he could say that he thought Cath or Warrick or Brass had also talked with him).
Just as Archie was leaving he turned back around and said, “You know, I hope Nick comes back soon. I don’t think Greg is going to make it much longer.”
Bobby jerked around and said, “Hey, hang on there. What do you mean; he isn’t going to make it much longer?”
Archie looked at Bobby a little surprised at the intensity of his reaction. “I just meant, he’s working himself to death. They all are but he seems to be hit the hardest; I guess because he’s only a level 1 and not used to working all the doubles and triples. He looks like death warmed over; hands are shaking again and dark circles under his eyes. I heard Grissom tell him he was to go home at the end of shift this morning and not come back until he’d had some solid sleep.”
Bobby nodded and said thanks. He started putting two and two together. The last time he’d been to the clinic, Nick had said he was worried about Greg. He didn’t look well and he didn’t seem to want to see Nick as much as he had at the beginning. Nick had even asked Bobby if Greg was seeing someone. Bobby could honestly tell him that as hard as they were working lately, he felt like he needed to take a picture of Steve to work with him so he’d recognize him when he finally got to see him again. Nick had seemed to accept his words but as he was leaving, he’d put his hand on Bobby’s arm and told him he didn’t know what he would do if Greg found someone new before he got well enough to tell him what he meant to him and how sorry he was for everything that had AND hadn’t happened between them. Bobby had again reassured Nick that he couldn’t say anything about their personal life but he knew for a fact the only person Greg was seeing was his friend Annabelle.
Bobby went into high gear and got his current test completed and all the evidence tagged and secured and went to find Greg.
* * * *
Bobby took one look at Greg and man-handled him into his car. He walked over, took Greg’s duffle bag out of the back of his car, threw it in his back seat, ordered Greg to buckle up and headed for his house. Greg tried to argue with him but even his normal stubbornness seemed to be apathetic and listless.
Bobby got him home, out of the car and settled him at the kitchen table. Steve had already left, dropping Chelsi off at school on his way to work so they had the house to themselves. Bobby fixed bacon, scrambled eggs and toast. When he handed Greg a small glass of apple juice, he just looked at him and said, “What am I supposed to do with this?”
Bobby glared at him and said, “You drink it dumb ass, that’s what you do with it.”
Greg looked at the juice again and looked up at Bobby and said, “But I want coffee.”
“Well, you ain’t gonna get coffee. You need a good solid eight hours of sleep and you need some food in your stomach and that’s what you’re gonna get if I have to feed you myself. Don’t make me pull age and rank on you Sanders. You know damn well I can and will do it.”
Greg put his hands up in surrender and said, “Okay, I’ll eat. I’m hungry and I have to admit that bacon smells great.”
They ate their breakfast together, enjoying the companionship and occasionally sharing a few words about work and Chelsi and Steve. When Greg was finishing off his fourth piece of toast and jam, Bobby got up and fixed two cups of milk well doctored with cinnamon, nutmeg and sugar that was flavored with a vanilla bean. He put them in the micro-wave and sat down to wait for the ding. “Now talk Sanders and I mean unload. I want every damn thing you’ve been thinking and doing for the last two weeks that’s made you look like this.”
Greg tried everything he could to evade Bobby’s pointed glare and even more pointed questions but finally admitted that when it came to getting down to the truth, Bobby had missed his calling. He should have been an interrogator. He didn’t even realize when Bobby handed him the two Tylenol PM pills and told him to swallow them with his warm milk. He let it go and told Bobby about the horrible dreams and the bouts of vomiting that followed when he woke up in terror. He did hold back that it was Nick and that he’d raped him. He managed to lie just enough so that Bobby thought it was a delayed reaction from the Demetrious Jones affair. He ended by telling Bobby he was afraid to go to sleep now and he did everything he could to stay awake.
Bobby said that was going to stop right then and after Greg had almost dislocated his jaw with another huge yawn, he realized that Bobby had slipped him something a little stronger than plain aspirin and he was not going to be able to stay awake. He started to panic and was almost in a full blown anxiety attack when Bobby told him to relax; he was going to sleep right there and he would be with him to soothe him if and when the nightmare returned. Greg had one brief moment of his old sassy self and asked Bobby if he meant he had to sleep right there on the kitchen table.
Bobby shook his head and said, “No smart ass. Come on. We’re going to bed.”
He took Greg into the guest room, asked him if he could get himself undressed and into bed and when told of course, he wasn’t a baby. He went into the guest bathroom to check and make sure Greg’s toothbrush and personal stuff was still there from when he’d stayed with them before. When he came out, Greg was sprawled on his back across the bed with his clothes on and one shoe half off. Bobby just grinned and said, “God, it’s like talking care of another kid.” He finished undressing Greg down to his boxers and maneuvered him under the covers. He pulled the blankets up to his chin, affectionately rubbed his hand over his unruly curls and left the room to get himself ready for bed.
* * * *
Bobby was torn out of a sound sleep by the sound of someone pleading in terror. He was already on his feet and heading down the hall before he was awake enough to realize it was Greg and he was begging someone to please not do that to him again, please don’t do it and he would be good. He would do the dishes and not eat in the living room and he would always get all the groceries on the list if he just wouldn’t hurt him again. He wasn’t healed from the last time and he didn’t think he could stand to be torn open again.
Bobby had always heard the expression, ‘his blood ran cold’ but that was the first time it had ever happened to him. He knew in an instant exactly what Greg was dreaming about….and who.
He burst through the door to find Greg in a wild tangle of bed clothes, drenched in sweat trying to hide behind his pillow and holding it across his face so tight he was literally smothering himself. Bobby grabbed the pillow out of his hands and jerked Greg into his arms. He held him tight and began to rock him the way he used to rock Chelsi when she would have a bad dream at night. He rubbed his hand up and down his back and up to his head and then back down again keeping his hand moving in a slow steady rhythm. He kept telling Greg he was all right, it was just a dream, Greg was safe with him; he needed to wake up and realize he was safe. It took a while but when Greg did wake up it was immediate and his reaction was also. Bobby saw and felt him gag. He knew he couldn’t get him to the bathroom but he grabbed the waste basket beside the bed and held it while Greg lost all his excellent breakfast. After he emptied his stomach, Greg just went limp in Bobby’s arms. He was crying but it was silent and hopeless. There was so much sadness and heartbreak in his posture, Bobby felt himself grieving right along with him. He got Greg up on his feet and almost carried him down the hall to his bedroom. He sat him in a chair and told him not to move. When he tried to get up Greg clung to his hand with what little strength he had left, begging him not to leave him alone, not to leave him with his dreams. Bobby told him he wouldn’t. He got Greg up, took him into the master bathroom and sat him carefully on the toilet. He started filling the big Jacuzzi tub with warm, almost too hot water, saying a silent thanks to his partner Steve for insisting on spending the money on the extravagant thing. When the tub was half full, he put some lavender and aloe bath salts in the water and let the force of the water mix them in the tub.
He never gave a thought to the possibility that someone might wonder about a rough, tough he-man like him, using scented bath salts. He had listened long and hard to Alan’s theories about the total treatment of body and mind. He knew Alan and his partner practiced aroma-therapy at their clinic and in their personal lives. Steve had raised an eyebrow the first time he’d done it at home for them but after a nice relaxing soak in jasmine scented water, he’d apologized for doubting his partner. And believe me, when Steve decided to apologize to Bobby, Bobby was a very happy, sore, satisfied man. Now he was going to use everything he could think of short of a rubber mallet behind the ear to get Greg to relax and rest.
He pulled the young man to his feet, pulled his boxers off and made him step into the water. Greg hissed a little at the heat of the water but after a few seconds he became used to the temperature and obediently settled down into the warm frothy bath. Bobby turned on the jets and let the waters do their magic on Greg’s sore tired muscles. He started to get up but Greg again grabbed onto him as though he was drowning and Bobby was the only thing keeping him from going under. Bobby tried to tell him he was just going to rinse off in the shower but Greg was too terrified at the thought of him leaving him to understand. Finally Bobby said to hell with it, stripped off his briefs and crawled into the tub with Greg. It was big enough for both of them without any inappropriate spooning. Right then, Bobby knew anything that could be construed as sexual in nature would send Greg over the edge into screaming hysteria. When he settled in the tub at the other end where Greg could see him, he calmed down and began to relax in the heat of the water. Bobby gently pried his hand out of Greg’s and put Greg’s hand on his leg where he could still feel him but Bobby could lay back and relax also. With both of them in the tub, there was no chance of them drowning and the inevitable happened. Both men were exhausted and dozed off in the warm swirling water.
* * * *
Steve Austin (and yes he took a hell of a lot of teasing about his name. It didn’t help that with his size and strength he really could have been the six million dollar man) was used to the unexpected. After all, he was a gay man living with another gay man who loved guns the way most men loved cars. When they knew they were going to get Chelsi, they had spent days going over every inch of their house to make it baby proof. Steve found guns in places he didn’t know you could put guns. Some of them had been there so long; Bobby couldn’t remember putting them there. However, finding guns in strange places was not quite the same thing as finding the love of your life, your spouse of fourteen years in your bed in your house with a very naked young man wrapped around him hanging on to him for dear life.
Steve, quietly backed out of their bedroom, intercepted their lively little girl before she could see her ‘daddy’ in bed with another man and told her to go change out of her school clothes into her play jeans and to be very quiet, Daddy was still asleep and as hard as he had been working lately, he needed all the rest he could get.
Now Steve knew without a doubt, he knew that nothing was going on. Well at least, he knew nothing sexual was going on. Obviously, something was going on or Greg would not be in their bed wrapped around his husband. He was perturbed.
Bobby and Greg were dead to the world. Steve watched as Greg began to move a little in his sleep. He heard him let out a small moan and almost immediately, Bobby, still sound asleep, began to rub his arm and soothe him. He cataloged the movement and recognized it as the same one Bobby used to soothe Chelsi when she was a baby and had bouts of colic. He watched Greg settle back down even closer to Bobby if such a thing were possible. It only took a minute or two and neither man woke once during the episode. Steve filed the incident away in his mind to be considered later and went to take care of his daughter.
* * * *
It was almost 10.30 pm. Steve had fed their daughter and made it a special dinner to make up for ‘Daddy’ not waking up to join them. He set the table with the good china and put candles and flowers on the table. He told his little girl he was going to enjoy having her all to himself, just the two of them and pretended they were out on a date. Chelsi was a special little girl. She had realized at a very early age that her family life was nothing like her classmate’s. It wasn’t worse, just different.
Not only did she have a ‘daddy’ and a ‘papa’, her ‘daddy’ worked a really strange job with really strange hours. Most of the time, it was wonderful for her because she had her papa all evening and her ‘daddy’ all day. But there was a draw back; often her ‘daddy’ would be at work for hours on end and when he was home, he was so tired, he would sleep all day. This was the first time she ever remembered him sleeping all day and not waking up to tell her good night while he was getting ready to go to work.
Papa explained as well as he could about the ‘war’ currently playing out in the seamier streets of their home town and why her daddy was working so hard. He told her this was a very unusual thing to happen and hopefully, the work her daddy was doing would go a long way to making sure something like this would never happen again and they had to try to support daddy as much as they could. That meant that papa and Chelsi had to let daddy sleep when ever he could.
Chelsi agreed that a bowl of ice cream before she went to sleep would help a little, but only a little to make up for letting daddy sleep and not waking him up for a good night kiss. Steve was well aware this was blackmail, pure and simple, but she was the most adorable little blackmailer he’d ever encountered so he paid the ‘blood price’; a small scoop of blackberry ice cream with whipped cream and a cherry on top.
Now, he sighed as he got up and went to wake his sleeping spouse and the gorgeous young man he’d been sleeping with all day.
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Date: 2007-11-22 07:16 am (UTC)I just love Bobby and Steve! I'm so happy they are such good friends to Greg!
Why don't you just ditch that story you are betaing and spend all your time writing on this story? That would be much better use of your time! :-)
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Date: 2007-11-22 03:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-22 05:58 pm (UTC)I don't know - I have to ask my beta ;-) Hehe....
I have a feeling internet is making people invent new words....
I actually have made a long post about my new story and the great beta I have ;-)
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Date: 2007-11-22 08:19 am (UTC)and luckily no drama from Steve (he really is perfect), i don't know if Greg would bear to be a cause of dispute for his friends
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Date: 2007-11-22 03:47 pm (UTC)Alan is based on a therapist I had many years ago when my husband and I were having problems. He just fascinated me and after our sessions with him were over, I wound up taking an assignment just so I could interact with him on a personal basis. That was one of the first questions I asked him and he said, "When the patient walks through the door, a good therapist put's on his professional mask and doesn't take it off until the patient leaves. I may react after but never when I'm with a client and it's even more important when you are dealing with a couple. It is almost impossible not to take sides in couple therapy. You just make sure you don't do it while you are working with them."
I asked him later who he was partial to in our sessions and he told me without any hesitation at all, my husband. He said I was a real bitch to work with and Del was a saint for putting up with me. I don't think he was kidding.
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Date: 2007-11-22 08:58 pm (UTC)As for Steven, by perfect I meant understanding and not jumping on conclusion right away (really rare qualities), maybe a fit of jealousy was their reason to go to Allan first and the therapy really worked^^.
Friends of couples have the same role of neutrality in marital problems, and i know from experience how tiring this is.
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Date: 2007-11-22 10:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-22 04:02 pm (UTC)I hope it's all going to even out in the end. Thanks for reading and thanks for your nice comments.
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Date: 2007-11-22 01:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-22 04:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-22 11:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-11-23 04:00 pm (UTC)Thank you thank you thank you thank you!
After the shitty night I had last night this totally made up for it. *Smooch*
Keep 'em coming babe cause I Just adore Steve and Bobby and how much they care about Greg and Nick/Greg!
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Date: 2007-11-23 06:11 pm (UTC)I'm glad this eased your pain a little and I do have to add a BUT to my previous remark. I hated the CSI episode BUT Bobby Dawson was back for the first time in a long time AND we actually got to see Warrick and Nick together on screen for almost a whole minute. So I guess it did have a few redeeming attributes.
We really are coming to the end of this so just hang in for a few more chapters.
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Date: 2007-11-24 01:43 am (UTC)I didn't really pay attention to CSI last night, but it made me giggle a bit ... and YAY for BOBBY! *bounce*
Does it have to end? *Smirk* (Just kidding! kind of?) *Smooch* Can't wait to see what the next chapter holds ... LOVE THIS! LOVE YOU!
no subject
Date: 2007-11-24 12:07 pm (UTC)I think the holidays are either heaven or hell for most people. This is one time when there is very little middle ground.
However, you have made my day/morning a lot better with your lovely comment. Thank you so much.
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Date: 2007-11-24 01:50 pm (UTC)*hugs* You always make me smile with your updates luv!