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Posting late Wednesday, instead of Thursday, because knowing me I'll wake up late again and not have time before work. >.<
Fandom: CSI
Author: Raijahn
Title: The Fall and Rise Of: Marathon
Case: Cold
Pairing: Greg/Nick
Rating: NC-17
Category: angst, drama, hurt-comfort, romance, first time, futurefic
Warnings: bdsm, bloodplay
Spoilers: High and Low; Play With Fire; Grave Danger; Gumdrops; Kiss-Kiss, Bye-Bye; Spellbound
Summary: Sometimes you have to fall before you can fly.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my ability to write, my random ideas, and the very few original characters I created solely for the boys I *don't* own to play with. I also make no profit from this. Though, wouldn't that be great?
(Author’s Notes)
Newly edited versions of the first story, Vegas, can be found here -![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tfaro at its own special little journal. – and here at What Makes the Desert Beautiful. You can also find previous parts of Marathon at both places.
Music: Cold by Crossfade
Word Count: 2722
Cold
I never really wanted you to see
The screwed up side of me that I keep
Locked inside of me so deep
It always seems to get to me
I never really wanted you to go
So many things you should have known
I guess for me there’s just no hope
I never meant to be so cold
The next day you wake up late, having slept all morning. The bed is empty save you and you wonder if you dreamt last night, if Nick was nothing but a hallucination, like Tony and Papa.
But then you see the washcloth drying on the towel rack in the bathroom and the clothes that Nick was wearing last night in the hamper and you breathe a sigh of relief, followed quickly by sharp disappointment because he’s not here.
You shower quickly and get dressed but hesitate at the door, nervous and embarrassed over what happened last night. You want to hide again but you’re still too emotionally drained to put up even the thinnest of walls. Besides, last night was a huge step towards healing and isn’t that why you’re here?
Taking a deep breath you open the door and leave the bedroom.
You find Adam and Molly in the front room with the kids, watching Monsters Inc. You smile faintly at the scene and take a seat on the couch. The twins start giggling and you look over at them, giving them your best imitation of the classic Greg Sanders grin. Apparently it’s a good imitation because they exchange grins and then climb up onto the couch, clambering back and forth as they hunt for the best spot to settle. You end up with Cody under one arm and Cassie in your lap, he head resting under your chin. You feel honored and touched to be on the receiving end of such trust.
“Did you sleep okay?” Molly asks quietly, her dark brown eyes soft with concern.
You flush faintly but smile and nod. “Yeah, I did.” You pause, looking back at the TV, but then finally ask the question that’s been on your mind since you woke up to an empty bed. “Where’s Nick?” You know he didn’t leave, didn’t go back to Vegas, because he promised you that the two of you would talk today. So you know he has to be somewhere close by.
“He’s visiting his parents, sweetie. He should be back soon.”
Relief makes you weak and you thank her as you settle back to watch the movie with the kids.
Nick walks in about thirty minutes later and the kids go crazy, yelling, “Uncle Nick! Uncle Nick! Uncle Nick!” and scrambling off of you to run over to him. You laugh at their enthusiasm but the laughter quickly dies when Nick meets your eyes. Your face flushes and you look away as Cassie convinces Nick to play with them.
He stays down on the floor with them until the movie ends and Molly declares lunch time. The kids start to whine but then Nick gets up and slings them over his shoulders, making them scream and giggle. You hear their laughter fade as they head to the kitchen and grin faintly at the adorableness of the entire scene.
“Your kids are far too cute, you know that, right?” you tell Adam when Molly follows Nick.
Adam grins hugely, pride fierce in his eyes. “Yeah, they are, aren’t they?”
Nick comes back before you can respond and sits down next to you. You stiffen slightly, all too aware of the changes that have taken place in your relationship, of the walls that have come down, of the vulnerability you now suffer from.
Nick slides his arm around your shoulders and leans in close. “Let’s go for a walk.”
You swallow hard, unable to do anything but nod, feeling like whatever Nick has to say, that needs to be said away from Adam and Molly, can’t be good.
You follow Nick outside, jerking in surprise when he takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, your entire body flushing when you see him looking at you.
It’s so alien, these feelings you have inside. You feel warm and shivery and vulnerable and you can’t figure out how Nick holding your hand like this can be more intimate than sex. It’s yet another aspect of this thing between you and Nick that you don’t understand and it makes you uncomfortably aware of the differences between the two of you.
Nick leads you to a huge pecan tree that stands a few yards from the house, its massive branches seeming to shelter it. The trunk is wide enough for you both to sit down with your backs against it, side by side. Nick lets go of your hand and you breathe a little easier.
The ground is warm and solid beneath you, the grass soft and silky against the palms of your hands, and the bark of the tree is rough against your back. There’s a slight breeze and the sun filters through the branches, light moving over the ground and your legs in random patterns. You feel Nick shifting beside you and turn your attention away from the wonders of Mother Nature.
“How are you feelin’?” Nick asks hesitantly, as thought reluctant to bring up last night.
You shrug and look down at your lap, at Nick’s hand resting on your thigh. You pick it up in both of yours, running the pads of your fingers over it, tracing veins, faint scars, calluses. You rub your thumb across his class ring, feel the strength in his hand when his fingers curl around yours, squeezing lightly. You bring his hand up to your lips and brush a kiss across the knuckles, then drop your head back to the tree. “Lighter,” you finally answer.
You used to feel so weighted down, weary, depressed. You don’t expect one night of grieving to erase years of pain, but you feel better having just gotten through that much.
“That’s good,” Nick responds, squeezing your hand again.
You smile faintly. “Yeah, I guess.”
You shift slightly, resting most of your weight against Nick, closing your eyes against the sun dancing through the leaves.
“You wanna talk about any of it?”
You sigh deeply and shrug a shoulder. “I don’t know. I don’t even know where to start.” You turn your head and open one eye to look at him. “And if you say, start from the beginning, I’ll have no choice but to hit you.”
Nick laughs and you close your eye, a faint smile playing around your lips.
“Why don’t you tell me what you’ve been up to instead?” you ask before Nick has a chance to speak again.
You hear Nick sigh. “Just working. You know how it is.”
Yeah, you do. “No breaks in the case yet?”
“Nope.”
Nick doesn’t say anything else, so you drop it, knowing that pushing Nick about a case he’s frustrated with will only lead to an argument. And you don’t feel like arguing, about anything.
“How’s everyone doing?”
“Fine, great.” You wince at the snap in Nick’s tone, wishing it was easier for you to talk about how you’re feeling, wishing you could give Nick what he wants from you.
You sit in silence for a while, but it’s not that comfortable silence you’re used to. It’s thick, full of tension, and you can almost hear the frustration vibrating from Nick. Finally he sits up, letting go of your hand. “You want to go into town, see a movie or something?”
Nick gets up before you can react and you know you have about two seconds to turn this around, to stop Nick from shutting you out, to show him you can talk to him about this.
You grab his hand and tug him back down next to you. He gives you a questioning look and you flush faintly, look away, clear your throat. It takes you a few moments to gather your thoughts and when Nick tries to get up again, you glare at him. “Just give me a minute. This isn’t easy for me and you damn well know it. So just… stop. Let me think, okay?”
Nick looks taken aback by your vehemence, but he doesn’t say anything, just nods and relaxes. You look away from him and rub a hand over the back of your neck, trying to figure out what to say, how to say it. You don’t talk about stuff like this, you never have. And you know that that’s part of the problem, part of the reason you’re here right now. You’re determined to change it, but taking that first step is harder than you thought it would be.
“I never wanted you to see any of this.” You start slowly, with the things you feel comfortable enough revealing. “I never wanted you to see that side of me. That’s why I kept it hidden for so long. Then after Tony…” You shake your head, not ready to talk about that.
Nick continues to hold your hand, his thumb brushing back and forth over the back of it in a continuous motion. His silence more encouraging than anything he could have said.
“I put you through so much. I lied to you, betrayed you, hurt you.” You stop Nick before he can protest, stating resolutely, “I did, and you know it.”
Nick looks at you steadily, searching your eyes. You can tell he doesn’t want to agree, doesn’t want to admit that you’re right. But he does agree, you can see it as he concedes the point, closing his eyes in defeat.
“I’m sorry, Nicky,” you whisper. “Sorrier than I think you’ll ever know.”
Nick sighs and opens his eyes, cupping your face in one hand and drawing you forward for a soft kiss. You feel a sob rise up within you and pull away, looking at him uncomprehendingly. “I don’t understand how you can stand to kiss me, knowing everything that you do.”
Nick shakes his head. “I don’t see that when I look at you. I don’t think about it when I touch you.”
It should make you feel better, knowing that, but it doesn’t. You pull completely out of his grasp until you’re not touching him with a single part of your body. “You should. Take a good look. This is who I am.” You toss your arms out in an all encompassing gesture. “Whore, murderer, betrayer, failure.”
“No.” Nick denies your statement fiercely, gripping the back of your neck so tightly you wince. “You’re not any of those things.”
You laugh. You can’t help it. “Yeah? What do you call people who fuck up to six strangers in one night?” Nick flinches and you feel a surge of bitter satisfaction. “Or how about people who allow their boyfriends to fuck other people? Or how about Tony? You remember how he died, right?” You don’t give Nick a chance to respond. “He was strangled to death. Do you want to know why?”
Nick doesn’t answer, he just stares at you, looking at you like he doesn’t know who you are, and you force yourself to go on because the truth is, he doesn’t.
"Tony and I were in what you might call a relationship. He'd fuck me, bleed me, wrap his hands around my throat and choke me out, because it got me off.” Your lips twist harshly. "It was euphoria. Some of the best orgasms I've ever had."
Nick looks like he’s going to be sick and you look away from him as you continue. “One night Tony wanted me to choke him out. But I said no because I didn’t trust myself not to hurt him. He got angry and walked out. The next night Warrick told me he was dead.” You pause there, feeling the weight of guilt on your shoulders. “Because I refused, he found someone else, someone who took it too far.” You turn and look hard at Nick, urging him to see what you’re trying to tell him. “By refusing I killed him.”
“No,” Nick bites out, pushing to his feet, his entire body shaking as he tries to come to grips with what you’ve told him. “You didn’t kill him. It’s not your fault.”
You look up at him, watch him as he struggles for composure, struggles not to be sick right here and now, and feel completely unmoved.
“I can’t believe that, Nick,” you say calmly as you climb to your feet and face him. “I have to believe that if I had just said yes… Tony would be alive right now.”
Nick pushes you against the tree, angry, upset, again pressed to that point where he resorts to physical violence, and this time, you don’t even care.
“Or you could have accidentally killed him,” Nick snaps out.
You suck in a sharp breath, shoving Nick away from you, the brutality of his words piercing through the numbness you feel.
“Instead you turned him down,” he continues, anger tightening his voice, his jaw, his fists. “Whatever he did after, that’s on him.”
You shake your head and walk away. You don’t believe that. And you can’t bear to hear this from Nick, to hear him defending you. Nick, who’s always so compassionate, so forgiving, so… naïve, that he can look at you, look at what you’ve done, and still care about you, still want to be with you. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to understand it, to accept it. And right now you can’t even try.
~~~
You hide in your room for the rest of the day, trying to pretend there’s nothing wrong, that you aren’t still trying to sabotage the one good thing you have going in your life.
It’s nearly eight when you hear the knock. You look up from the book you’ve been staring blankly at, look at the door like you can see through it, but you don’t answer. Even when you hear Nick call your name, hear him knock again.
“Do you really wanna leave things like this, G?”
G. What kind of a nickname is G anyway? You never understood where it came from, why Nick decided to call you that. Or Greggo. Or babe.
You swallow hard and creep off the bed slowly.
Every name Nick gives you is like a term of endearment, whether it’s meant to be that way or not.
You stand there and press your hand to the wood, imagining you can see Nick on the other side, hear him sigh, watch him rub a hand over his face, frustration and exasperation darkening the shadows in his eyes. Shadows you put there.
You don’t deserve any of what Nick’s offering, you don’t deserve Nick.
“Greg… I can’t help you if you don’t let me,” Nick pauses and you can almost see him lean against the door, one hand bunched into a fist, the other braced on the door jamb. “I can’t be here for you if you don’t open the goddamned door!”
You jump at the loud bang and back up a few steps, half afraid Nick’s going to bust down the door to get to you. You can’t let him in. The image of Tony and all your sins are still too fresh in your mind.
“Fine.” The defeat in Nick’s voice beckons to you, but you stand your ground. “Have it your way, man. I’ll see you when you get back to Vegas.”
There’s a part of you screaming, stop him, but you can’t. You know this is for the best. Too much has happened over the last few years. You’ll never be what Nick needs or deserves. He’s better off without you. They all are and maybe that’s why you needed to get away. To gain the clarity to realize what you really need to do is leave Vegas altogether.
Opening the door, you slowly peek you head out, the sight of Nick walking away causing a part of you to die inside. You know this isn’t a Nick walking away just to let you cool down, this is a Nick who’s walking away until you tell him to stop. And though the words are right on the tip of your tongue, you don’t utter them.
The ball’s in your court now and as far as you’re concerned, that’s where it’s going to stay.
Fandom: CSI
Author: Raijahn
Title: The Fall and Rise Of: Marathon
Case: Cold
Pairing: Greg/Nick
Rating: NC-17
Category: angst, drama, hurt-comfort, romance, first time, futurefic
Warnings: bdsm, bloodplay
Spoilers: High and Low; Play With Fire; Grave Danger; Gumdrops; Kiss-Kiss, Bye-Bye; Spellbound
Summary: Sometimes you have to fall before you can fly.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my ability to write, my random ideas, and the very few original characters I created solely for the boys I *don't* own to play with. I also make no profit from this. Though, wouldn't that be great?
(Author’s Notes)
Newly edited versions of the first story, Vegas, can be found here -
tfaro at its own special little journal. – and here at What Makes the Desert Beautiful. You can also find previous parts of Marathon at both places.Music: Cold by Crossfade
Word Count: 2722
Cold
I never really wanted you to see
The screwed up side of me that I keep
Locked inside of me so deep
It always seems to get to me
I never really wanted you to go
So many things you should have known
I guess for me there’s just no hope
I never meant to be so cold
The next day you wake up late, having slept all morning. The bed is empty save you and you wonder if you dreamt last night, if Nick was nothing but a hallucination, like Tony and Papa.
But then you see the washcloth drying on the towel rack in the bathroom and the clothes that Nick was wearing last night in the hamper and you breathe a sigh of relief, followed quickly by sharp disappointment because he’s not here.
You shower quickly and get dressed but hesitate at the door, nervous and embarrassed over what happened last night. You want to hide again but you’re still too emotionally drained to put up even the thinnest of walls. Besides, last night was a huge step towards healing and isn’t that why you’re here?
Taking a deep breath you open the door and leave the bedroom.
You find Adam and Molly in the front room with the kids, watching Monsters Inc. You smile faintly at the scene and take a seat on the couch. The twins start giggling and you look over at them, giving them your best imitation of the classic Greg Sanders grin. Apparently it’s a good imitation because they exchange grins and then climb up onto the couch, clambering back and forth as they hunt for the best spot to settle. You end up with Cody under one arm and Cassie in your lap, he head resting under your chin. You feel honored and touched to be on the receiving end of such trust.
“Did you sleep okay?” Molly asks quietly, her dark brown eyes soft with concern.
You flush faintly but smile and nod. “Yeah, I did.” You pause, looking back at the TV, but then finally ask the question that’s been on your mind since you woke up to an empty bed. “Where’s Nick?” You know he didn’t leave, didn’t go back to Vegas, because he promised you that the two of you would talk today. So you know he has to be somewhere close by.
“He’s visiting his parents, sweetie. He should be back soon.”
Relief makes you weak and you thank her as you settle back to watch the movie with the kids.
Nick walks in about thirty minutes later and the kids go crazy, yelling, “Uncle Nick! Uncle Nick! Uncle Nick!” and scrambling off of you to run over to him. You laugh at their enthusiasm but the laughter quickly dies when Nick meets your eyes. Your face flushes and you look away as Cassie convinces Nick to play with them.
He stays down on the floor with them until the movie ends and Molly declares lunch time. The kids start to whine but then Nick gets up and slings them over his shoulders, making them scream and giggle. You hear their laughter fade as they head to the kitchen and grin faintly at the adorableness of the entire scene.
“Your kids are far too cute, you know that, right?” you tell Adam when Molly follows Nick.
Adam grins hugely, pride fierce in his eyes. “Yeah, they are, aren’t they?”
Nick comes back before you can respond and sits down next to you. You stiffen slightly, all too aware of the changes that have taken place in your relationship, of the walls that have come down, of the vulnerability you now suffer from.
Nick slides his arm around your shoulders and leans in close. “Let’s go for a walk.”
You swallow hard, unable to do anything but nod, feeling like whatever Nick has to say, that needs to be said away from Adam and Molly, can’t be good.
You follow Nick outside, jerking in surprise when he takes your hand, lacing your fingers together. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, your entire body flushing when you see him looking at you.
It’s so alien, these feelings you have inside. You feel warm and shivery and vulnerable and you can’t figure out how Nick holding your hand like this can be more intimate than sex. It’s yet another aspect of this thing between you and Nick that you don’t understand and it makes you uncomfortably aware of the differences between the two of you.
Nick leads you to a huge pecan tree that stands a few yards from the house, its massive branches seeming to shelter it. The trunk is wide enough for you both to sit down with your backs against it, side by side. Nick lets go of your hand and you breathe a little easier.
The ground is warm and solid beneath you, the grass soft and silky against the palms of your hands, and the bark of the tree is rough against your back. There’s a slight breeze and the sun filters through the branches, light moving over the ground and your legs in random patterns. You feel Nick shifting beside you and turn your attention away from the wonders of Mother Nature.
“How are you feelin’?” Nick asks hesitantly, as thought reluctant to bring up last night.
You shrug and look down at your lap, at Nick’s hand resting on your thigh. You pick it up in both of yours, running the pads of your fingers over it, tracing veins, faint scars, calluses. You rub your thumb across his class ring, feel the strength in his hand when his fingers curl around yours, squeezing lightly. You bring his hand up to your lips and brush a kiss across the knuckles, then drop your head back to the tree. “Lighter,” you finally answer.
You used to feel so weighted down, weary, depressed. You don’t expect one night of grieving to erase years of pain, but you feel better having just gotten through that much.
“That’s good,” Nick responds, squeezing your hand again.
You smile faintly. “Yeah, I guess.”
You shift slightly, resting most of your weight against Nick, closing your eyes against the sun dancing through the leaves.
“You wanna talk about any of it?”
You sigh deeply and shrug a shoulder. “I don’t know. I don’t even know where to start.” You turn your head and open one eye to look at him. “And if you say, start from the beginning, I’ll have no choice but to hit you.”
Nick laughs and you close your eye, a faint smile playing around your lips.
“Why don’t you tell me what you’ve been up to instead?” you ask before Nick has a chance to speak again.
You hear Nick sigh. “Just working. You know how it is.”
Yeah, you do. “No breaks in the case yet?”
“Nope.”
Nick doesn’t say anything else, so you drop it, knowing that pushing Nick about a case he’s frustrated with will only lead to an argument. And you don’t feel like arguing, about anything.
“How’s everyone doing?”
“Fine, great.” You wince at the snap in Nick’s tone, wishing it was easier for you to talk about how you’re feeling, wishing you could give Nick what he wants from you.
You sit in silence for a while, but it’s not that comfortable silence you’re used to. It’s thick, full of tension, and you can almost hear the frustration vibrating from Nick. Finally he sits up, letting go of your hand. “You want to go into town, see a movie or something?”
Nick gets up before you can react and you know you have about two seconds to turn this around, to stop Nick from shutting you out, to show him you can talk to him about this.
You grab his hand and tug him back down next to you. He gives you a questioning look and you flush faintly, look away, clear your throat. It takes you a few moments to gather your thoughts and when Nick tries to get up again, you glare at him. “Just give me a minute. This isn’t easy for me and you damn well know it. So just… stop. Let me think, okay?”
Nick looks taken aback by your vehemence, but he doesn’t say anything, just nods and relaxes. You look away from him and rub a hand over the back of your neck, trying to figure out what to say, how to say it. You don’t talk about stuff like this, you never have. And you know that that’s part of the problem, part of the reason you’re here right now. You’re determined to change it, but taking that first step is harder than you thought it would be.
“I never wanted you to see any of this.” You start slowly, with the things you feel comfortable enough revealing. “I never wanted you to see that side of me. That’s why I kept it hidden for so long. Then after Tony…” You shake your head, not ready to talk about that.
Nick continues to hold your hand, his thumb brushing back and forth over the back of it in a continuous motion. His silence more encouraging than anything he could have said.
“I put you through so much. I lied to you, betrayed you, hurt you.” You stop Nick before he can protest, stating resolutely, “I did, and you know it.”
Nick looks at you steadily, searching your eyes. You can tell he doesn’t want to agree, doesn’t want to admit that you’re right. But he does agree, you can see it as he concedes the point, closing his eyes in defeat.
“I’m sorry, Nicky,” you whisper. “Sorrier than I think you’ll ever know.”
Nick sighs and opens his eyes, cupping your face in one hand and drawing you forward for a soft kiss. You feel a sob rise up within you and pull away, looking at him uncomprehendingly. “I don’t understand how you can stand to kiss me, knowing everything that you do.”
Nick shakes his head. “I don’t see that when I look at you. I don’t think about it when I touch you.”
It should make you feel better, knowing that, but it doesn’t. You pull completely out of his grasp until you’re not touching him with a single part of your body. “You should. Take a good look. This is who I am.” You toss your arms out in an all encompassing gesture. “Whore, murderer, betrayer, failure.”
“No.” Nick denies your statement fiercely, gripping the back of your neck so tightly you wince. “You’re not any of those things.”
You laugh. You can’t help it. “Yeah? What do you call people who fuck up to six strangers in one night?” Nick flinches and you feel a surge of bitter satisfaction. “Or how about people who allow their boyfriends to fuck other people? Or how about Tony? You remember how he died, right?” You don’t give Nick a chance to respond. “He was strangled to death. Do you want to know why?”
Nick doesn’t answer, he just stares at you, looking at you like he doesn’t know who you are, and you force yourself to go on because the truth is, he doesn’t.
"Tony and I were in what you might call a relationship. He'd fuck me, bleed me, wrap his hands around my throat and choke me out, because it got me off.” Your lips twist harshly. "It was euphoria. Some of the best orgasms I've ever had."
Nick looks like he’s going to be sick and you look away from him as you continue. “One night Tony wanted me to choke him out. But I said no because I didn’t trust myself not to hurt him. He got angry and walked out. The next night Warrick told me he was dead.” You pause there, feeling the weight of guilt on your shoulders. “Because I refused, he found someone else, someone who took it too far.” You turn and look hard at Nick, urging him to see what you’re trying to tell him. “By refusing I killed him.”
“No,” Nick bites out, pushing to his feet, his entire body shaking as he tries to come to grips with what you’ve told him. “You didn’t kill him. It’s not your fault.”
You look up at him, watch him as he struggles for composure, struggles not to be sick right here and now, and feel completely unmoved.
“I can’t believe that, Nick,” you say calmly as you climb to your feet and face him. “I have to believe that if I had just said yes… Tony would be alive right now.”
Nick pushes you against the tree, angry, upset, again pressed to that point where he resorts to physical violence, and this time, you don’t even care.
“Or you could have accidentally killed him,” Nick snaps out.
You suck in a sharp breath, shoving Nick away from you, the brutality of his words piercing through the numbness you feel.
“Instead you turned him down,” he continues, anger tightening his voice, his jaw, his fists. “Whatever he did after, that’s on him.”
You shake your head and walk away. You don’t believe that. And you can’t bear to hear this from Nick, to hear him defending you. Nick, who’s always so compassionate, so forgiving, so… naïve, that he can look at you, look at what you’ve done, and still care about you, still want to be with you. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to understand it, to accept it. And right now you can’t even try.
~~~
You hide in your room for the rest of the day, trying to pretend there’s nothing wrong, that you aren’t still trying to sabotage the one good thing you have going in your life.
It’s nearly eight when you hear the knock. You look up from the book you’ve been staring blankly at, look at the door like you can see through it, but you don’t answer. Even when you hear Nick call your name, hear him knock again.
“Do you really wanna leave things like this, G?”
G. What kind of a nickname is G anyway? You never understood where it came from, why Nick decided to call you that. Or Greggo. Or babe.
You swallow hard and creep off the bed slowly.
Every name Nick gives you is like a term of endearment, whether it’s meant to be that way or not.
You stand there and press your hand to the wood, imagining you can see Nick on the other side, hear him sigh, watch him rub a hand over his face, frustration and exasperation darkening the shadows in his eyes. Shadows you put there.
You don’t deserve any of what Nick’s offering, you don’t deserve Nick.
“Greg… I can’t help you if you don’t let me,” Nick pauses and you can almost see him lean against the door, one hand bunched into a fist, the other braced on the door jamb. “I can’t be here for you if you don’t open the goddamned door!”
You jump at the loud bang and back up a few steps, half afraid Nick’s going to bust down the door to get to you. You can’t let him in. The image of Tony and all your sins are still too fresh in your mind.
“Fine.” The defeat in Nick’s voice beckons to you, but you stand your ground. “Have it your way, man. I’ll see you when you get back to Vegas.”
There’s a part of you screaming, stop him, but you can’t. You know this is for the best. Too much has happened over the last few years. You’ll never be what Nick needs or deserves. He’s better off without you. They all are and maybe that’s why you needed to get away. To gain the clarity to realize what you really need to do is leave Vegas altogether.
Opening the door, you slowly peek you head out, the sight of Nick walking away causing a part of you to die inside. You know this isn’t a Nick walking away just to let you cool down, this is a Nick who’s walking away until you tell him to stop. And though the words are right on the tip of your tongue, you don’t utter them.
The ball’s in your court now and as far as you’re concerned, that’s where it’s going to stay.
