Gil was watching Greg sleep. Beaten Greg. Burnt Greg. Suffering Greg. Seeing him like this made his heart ache with pain. It wasnīt fair. Why had it to be him? Always him. Greg didnīt deserve this. Youīre a big boy, Greg. You donīt need a wingman for this. His words were ringing in his ears like an echo. What was I thinking? If Greg would have died I would have gone mad. If it had happened because I sent him out there...Not Greg, dear God. Not my sweet, cheerful boy. I could never stand it. But for now his boy was safe. Traumatized but safe. Gil sighed and took Gregīs hand to put a soft kiss on its palm. At once a terrible image flashed through Gilīs mind. Greg buried in a coffin. Dead. The image vanished as quickly as it had haunted him but Gil shivered fiercely. Greg could die tomorrow. He could be taken from me every moment. Nobody knows those things. Donīt waste any more time. Donīt keep him away from you.
He didnīt notice that Sara had come in until she cleared her throat. "Hey."
In a hurry, Gil let go of Gregīs hand. "Sara."
"How is he?"
"Better, I think." Jesus, is this me, sounding like a whimpering girl?
"Good," she said coldly. "Are you coming?"
"Uh...no...later maybe...I just came here...," he lied.
"Okay." She smiled sadly and left.
He knew that she knew he was lying. Why didnīt I tell her? Iīm so stupid. Iīm a fucking coward. I proved it more than once...
Greg woke up and stared at him with big, weepy eyes.
Gil held himself back from taking him into his arms. "Hey. How are you?"
"Okay," Greg sniffed.
"Is your family coming to visit soon?"
"No. I told you my mom will freak if sheīd ever find out..."
"Donīt you think...," Gil started but didnīt finish. Itīs not my business. Heīs not mine. Not anymore.
He grabbed for Gilīs hand as if it were a lifeline. "I was so scared...and I..."
It really got to him. Heīs still in fear. Softly, he squeezed Gregīs hand because he couldnīt think of anything to say.
"...I was all alone," Greg whispered huskily.
Yes, because I sent you there without any backup. I sent you to this... "Iīm so sorry. Itīs my fault. I shouldnīt have sent you out there all by yourself." A kiss would have been better than this silly chitchat.
"Why did you?"
"Ah...I thought there isnīt any danger. Just routine." One healing kiss...
"Would you have send Sara all by herself as well?"
"Greg..." The question stunned Gil to the core. "Thatīs completely silly. I..."
"Am I interrupting a moment?"
Gilīs head jerked around.
Michael stood in the doorway, smiling charmingly.
Greg blinked away his tears. "No. Iīm glad youīre here. I need a friend."
"No problem, Greggo. Iīm your man."
"I have to go anyway." Gil stumbled to his feet. "There is some important matter at the lab I need to take care of."
Michael walked into the room and waved nonchalantly at Gil. "See you later, boss."
Greggo. He called him Greggo. I donīt like him calling him Greggo. Neither Greg nor Michael paid attention to him leaving. They had only eyes for each other. Michael took Gilīs place at the bedside and kissed Greg on the cheek.
Gil had seen enough. He fled and jumped out of the frying pan into the fire. In the hallway, he bumped into Alan Davies.
"Hello, Gil," Gregīs ex-boyfriend greeted him exceptionally politely. "How nice of you to look after Greg."
"It was only natural," Gil declared icily. "Greg works for me."
"Iīm aware of it." Alanīs eyes were as cold as Gilīs voice. "How is my pretty boy?"
"Ah...fine...his friend Michael is with him right now," Gil notified, perplexed. This man was able to annoy him by just being...present. Stop it. Jealousy wonīt get you anywhere.
"So, he is in good hands. A handsome man this Michael." Alan patted Gilīs shoulder.
Gil winced back from him. "Very. I need to go."
Alan nodded. "Greg told me work is most important to you." His cold eyes made fun of Gil.
"Exactly." Gil continued his flight despite the urge to teach Alan and Michael a lesson. Greg is mine. Mine. I tried to stay away from him...I really tried but...uh...seeing him so vulnerable made me realize...how important he is to me...more important than work...more important than anything or anyone...yes...life without Greg is safe. It doesnīt hurt. Itīs comfortable. Secure. Not like the permanent sensations I feel by being with Greg. Passion. Confusion. Pain. Life with Greg is unpredictable. A steady excitement...but being without him is like being dead inside...
At the lab he didnīt get any rest. As he walked into his office, his sanctuary, he found Hodges sitting at the desk, leafing through important files. Gil groaned. "What do you..."
"Hey, boss. How is our pretty boy?"
"Huh?" Gil asked, dumbfounded, because Hodges had used the exact same words as Alan. Is every man thinking of him in this way?
"Sanders. How is he?"
"Better. Michael and Alan are visiting him."
"Oh, thatīs why you look so distracted," Hodges smirked.
"Go back to work." Gil glared at him.
But Hodges came around the desk and got closer instead. "Donīt worry. Sanders is yours only," he whispered close to Gilīs ear.
Gil stepped back, blinking rapidly. "Get out or I will...."
"Iīm curious. What would you do to me...."
"OUT!"
Not in the slightest intimidated, Hodges strolled casually into the hallway. "By the way - everybody knows and yet itīs a secret. Amazing, isnīt it?"
Gil shut the door with a bang. "Brass was right...everybody knows...this is a disaster...," he murmured, distressed. The gossip wonīt get any better when I get back with Greg. If I get back with him. What if Iīm not able to win him back? What if he doesnīt want me back? My behavior was unforgivable for a very long time. Do I have the courage to have my heart broken by him rejecting me...forevermore... Surely, he couldnīt answer that question without even trying.
Hours later, he had fallen asleep at his desk. But it was no sleep of rest. A dream haunted him. A dream of Greg - lying with a waxen face in a coffin. Suddenly he opened his eyes and started to talk. "Iīm a big boy now. I donīt need you. I donīt need anyone." Blood streamed out of his eyes and filled the coffin in no time. Gil jerked awake, panting briskly. Drops of sweat were covering his face. He wiped them away only to find Sara sitting in the chair in front of his desk.
"You were having a nightmare."
"Sorry."
"This is for you." She handed him a letter.
"Thank you."
"You should go back to the hospital."
"What are you talking about?"
"In your sleep you were saying his name."
"Sara..." His voice died. If she didnīt know before she certainly knew now.
"Did you ever intend to tell me?"
"I just didnīt find the right time..."
"There is never a right time for something like this."
"I know."
Her eyes filled with tears. "You never said a word although you knew how I feel about you. You kept me out of the loop..."
"Iīm so sorry."
"Do you love him?"
"I think so."
"He is a good guy," she breathed through her teeth.
Her understanding stunned him. "Yes."
"I try to forgive you - some day."
"I donīt deserve your forgiveness."
"I know but I love you, Gil. No matter what." One tear ran down her cheek.
"I donīt deserve your love," Gil stated unhappily.
"I know that too. But love doesnīt ask for those things." For twenty minutes they sat in silence. Eventually, Sara dried her tears. Gil comforted her by just being close...for now. Lab workers who passed by had the impression they had forgotten about the world outside the office.
**************************************
Some time passed. Greg was released from the hospital. His wounds started to heal but still showed in his face. Life went on anyway. Crimes didnīt just stop to happen to let a man fully recover. As well as they didnīt wait for another man to solve his own personal puzzle. One night, as it was exceptionally slow in the lab, the team was lingering in the break room, eating, drinking or reading. Nobody talked. Even Hodges, who lolled in a corner, havenīt said a word for about five minutes, but only for the reason he was busy watching them all.
"A got an invitation to an entomology convention this weekend in San Francisco," Gil disturbed the silence unexpectedly.
"Have fun," Catherine joked dryly.
Gil raised one eyebrow. "How do you know I decided to go?"
"By just knowing you."
He had to smile. "Well, I plan to take someone with me." Finally he had the attention of the whole team. Well, almost. Everybody but Greg was looking at him. The youngest CSI kept reading his forensic journal and chewing on his sandwich.
"Greg?"
"Yeah?" His mouth full, he blinked at Gil.
"Are you ready to learn a new lesson?" Gil nibbled on his glasses.
Catherine chuckled.
"What?" Greg snapped, not very friendly. The former fun maker lacked humor frequently in those days. No jokes, no music, no nothing beyond work. This had nothing to do with the incident of almost been beaten to death. It was known by many people that it had started earlier. Some of them even knew what had been the trigger. But those people kept it to themselves. It wasnīt their business to make it public.
"I want you to accompany me to San Francisco to improve your skills," Gil briefed him.
Greg dropped the journal on the table. "I donīt wanna come."
"Why not?"
"Iīm still not well enough."
"You are back to work, are you not?" Gil frowned.
"Yes, but..."
"This is not open for a discussion. Thatīs an order."
Greg closed his journal and collected his things. "I see. Can I go?"
"Sure." Gil watched him leave. He didnīt dare to look at the others.
Nick pushed his chair back. "Excuse me." He ran after Greg.
Catherine drummed her fingers on the table. "Is there something you want to order us as well?"
"No," Gil barked at her.
"Fine." She smiled and continued to leaf through a pile of papers. Warrick put his nose back into his report. Sara just chewed her sandwich without deigning to look at anyone.
"Itīs good to know those bastards werenīt able to break Gregīs spirit," Hodges threw casually in. "I think, he grew up after all. Now itīs your turn." He winked at Gil. Catherineīs smile widened. Gil hated her for that. But he couldnīt think of anything to say. Again he sought refuge in flight, certain that as soon as he was gone they would start gossiping. He couldnīt blame them. Strangely enough, he didnīt care anymore. Even the thought of Ecklie finding out everything didnīt bother him. That was behind him. Now only winning Greg back mattered.
Nick caught up with Greg. "Hey buddy! Whatīs up?"
"Nothing."
"Come on. Letīs have a drink and just talk. I know something is going on with you."
"Oh yeah? I donīt know if youīve noticed but I was almost beaten to death recently."
Nick shook his head. "There is something else."
Greg faltered. "I want to be left alone."
"Nonsense. Letīs go." He put an arm around his shoulders and surprisingly Greg gave in.
Only a few minutes later they sat in a cafeteria. Greg played with the salt-shaker. Nick sipped from his coke. "Whatīs going on in your life?" he asked, trying to break the ice.
Greg shrugged. "Not much."
"Are you unhappy?"
"Very."
"Why?"
Greg raised his head. His face was a grimace of pain. "I lied to you, Nick."
"About what?"
"About me."
"In what way?"
"You were right. I have a big crush on Grissom."
Nick smiled benignly. "I know."
"Iīm terribly in love with Grissom."
"I know."
"Oh."
Nick grinned. "My home is my castle. Did you think you can make out in my kitchen and I didnīt know?"
"Oh." Greg blushed but only slightly. He was beyond being embarrassed about who he loved or not. "I told Gil I heard something."
Nick laughed. "Now that we come clean tell me whatīs bothering you? Doesnīt Grissom approve of you anymore?"
Greg took a deep breath. "Itīs not that simple. I...I...broke up with him but...but...I...I want him back." Only now his face became crimson with shame. Iīm weak. Iīll never learn my lesson. How can I want a man back who hurt me that much? How can I be so pathetic?
Nick pulled the salt-shaker from Gregīs trembling hands. "Thatīs easy."
*************************
Greg lolled on his sofa. One suitcase stood in front of it.
Alan walked into the room. "Greg?"
Gregīs eyes were open but he didnīt seem to notice anything that was going on around him. He seemed to be on another planet.
"GREG?"
"Yes?"
"Are you planning to go back to him?" Alan launched himself next to Greg.
"No." Greg stretched and yawned. "Are you crazy?"
"Are you fucking him again?"
"Of course not."
"Youīre lying."
"Iīm not."
"Do you still love him?"
Greg bit his lips.
"Oh, Greg," Alan sighed. "Donīt you think you suffered enough?"
"Look whoīs talking."
"Point taken."
Greg put his face on Alanīs shoulder. "Donīt worry. Itīs only one weekend. Iīll stay out of his way as much as possible. Besides, heīll be distracted by his beloved bugs anyway."
Alan laughed and kissed his lips.
Greg pulled back. "Donīt."
Alan shrugged. "Was worth a try." He reached for the remote control and switched the TV on.
************************************
The few hours on the plane were like a silent movie. Greg looked out of the window the whole time and Gil read his book. They only nodded in response to the attendantīs questions. They kept this up until they arrived in the lobby of the hotel.
"How can I help you?" the concierge welcomed them.
"I reserved two rooms. The name is Grissom."
The employee tipped the info into the computer. "Sorry, sir, but I found only the reservation for one room under the name of Grissom."
"There must be a mistake. I ordered two rooms." Gil read the name on the small plate attached to the employeeīs jacket. John Plain
"Sorry, sir."
"Well, just give us another room."
"We are booked out. The convention..." Plain emphasized with a sorrowful face.
"Right." Gil looked at Greg who looked quickly away. Why has it to be now for such a stupid thing to happen?
"If I may give you an advice, sir, the room has a double bed," Plain continued eagerly. "It will be comfortable enough for two people."
Again, Gil gave Greg a quick glance.
But Greg hung his head. Two flecks of red shone brightly on his cheeks.
Well... "Ermh...alright," Gil agreed with Plain. He signed the papers, collected the key-cards and walked with Greg to the lifts.
"I wonīt sleeping in that bed with you," Greg growled.
"Listen, itīs..."
"You planned this," Greg accused him, his eyes a fierce brown.
"No. What do you think of me? Iīd never..." The lift doors opened. They stepped in. Other people joined them. Their argument stopped at once. It was a very small room. The lift stopped at every floor. More and more people stepped inside. It got crowded. The air became damp. Gil felt like fainting. He tried to focus on...on...but the closeness of outraged Greg was at the moment more than he could bear. Finally they arrived at floor ten. As soon as the doors slid open, Greg jumped outside. Gil followed him quickly.
In their room, Greg threw his bag on the bed and ran out before Gil could even think to say something. Gil sighed and walked to the bathroom to freshen up. He knew it was no use to try to talk to Greg at the moment. Let him calm down first. The weekend just began. Half an hour later, he strolled through the lobby, looking for familiar faces. The announcements on the board for the various lectures didnīt catch his attention. His mind was filled with Greg. His love for Greg had driven out his love for bugs. This was definitely a first. Here and there someone said Hi and he smiled vaguely back at them. Actually he was only down here to look for Greg.
"Hey there, Gil!"
He turned around and saw a man he wasnīt looking for. Carl Morris, an old-school scientist and also a good friend of his mother.
"Hello....Nice to see you."
The corpulent man with the red face laughed heartily. "Liar. You look quite shocked."
"Nonsense, Carl. Iīm just surprised to find you here."
Out of nothing, Greg rushed between them. "Give me a key-card," he urged Gil angrily. "You got both of them."
"Hey, Greg. This is Carl, an old friend of mine." He drew the card out of his pocket.
"Since when is this my concern," Greg snapped and grabbed the card off Gilīs hand.
"Just a second..." Gil started, but Greg was already gone.
"Nice fellow," Carl joked with a twinkle in his eye.
"He is. Today he is just in a bad mood."
"Strong resemblance to Mark," Carl continued with a smug expression.
"Really? I never noticed," Gil replied uncomfortably.
"Sure you have." Carl patted his back. "Your mother will be happy that you found someone again."
"Donīt you dare and tell her about Greg."
"So, he is your boyfriend."
"I donīt want to talk about it..." Gil turned away from him.
Carl held him back by grabbing his arm. "Iīm sorry. Donīt walk away like that. Letīs have a drink and talk."
Gil shook his head resolutely. "I donīt think so, Carl."
"No about you. Just talk...about...the old times...okay?" Softly, he pulled him by the arm and Gil let Carl drag him away. Honestly, he was in need to talk to someone. Someone who was not working at the lab. Someone who knew nothing about Greg or Sara or anyone else there.
When he entered the hotel room hours later, he felt a lot better. It was after midnight. He switched on the light and found Greg lying with a blanket on the sofa. His eyes were closed. The bed was untouched. Gil made a face, switched the light off and walked into the bathroom. When he came out again the lamp by the sofa was switched on. Greg gazed at him in blazing fury.
Gil stripped his clothes off. "Are you okay?"
"Hell, no. Iīm not okay. Where have you been?"
"Having a drink with Carl." In his shorts, he slipped into bed. "I didnīt think you would miss me."
"I didnīt miss you. I was just...concerned."
Thatīs a start. "Come to bed. Here is plenty of room."
"I like to sleep on the sofa."
"Donīt be silly."
Greg switched the light off.
"Greg?"
Silence.
"It wasnīt my intention to put you in this situation."
"I donīt care."
"We need to talk."
"We have been over for a long time," Greg snapped. "Just leave me alone."
"I need to say Iīm sorry."
"For what? Treating me like an unsuitable dog. Choosing to find someone who is better suited to be seen with you than I am? Trying to get back with me because you didnīt find another fuck-buddy?" Greg yelled the last words.
"Thatīs not..."
"Iīm no consolation prize!"
"I never thought so. I know itīs my fault, my fault alone. I was a coward. I didnīt dare to tell the world who I want."
Greg sniffed loudly.
Gil left the bed and walked over to him. "I hope itīs not too late to fix this."
"You canīt fix this. You broke my heart. Youīre like Alan."
"Iīm nothing like Alan," Gil flustered. "I never cheated on you."
"What about Mark?"
"Mark is dead."
Greg breathed harshly.
Gil bent down. "Greg..."
Greg hit him.
"Ouch!" Gil took the punch against his shoulder without defending himself. His passivity didnīt make it better.
Greg hit him again. Harder. And again.
Gil did nothing. He took all the punches without complaint. He thought he deserved them.
Greg slapped Gil in the face.
"Enough!" Gil grabbed Greg by the hands. They wrestled. Gil got on top and pinned Greg down.
"Let me go!"
"No way," Gil panted. "You started this and now you have to take the consequences."
"Donīt." Greg struggled fiercely but it was in vain.
Gil planted a passionate kiss on his neck.
"No," Greg moaned.
But Gil didnīt stop and kissed him on the lips. It was a hard kiss, possessive and brutal. A bad kiss.
Greg fought harder. Several times he punched Gil in the ribs.
"Ouch!" Gil cried out and let go of him.
"Donīt you dare!" Greg foamed with rage and pushed him off. "Not again! Not anymore! Youīll never change, do you? You think you can butter me up by fucking me. Thatīs not gonna happen. Iīm not your boy toy anymore. I grew up after all. Do you understand?" Greg screamed on the top of his lungs while tears were floating his eyes.
Gil kneeled in front of him. "That wasnīt my intention. I was just horny. I wanted to make love to you. I didnīt want to hurt you." His voice was hoarse. He was on the verge of tears himself. "Sorry. Stupid of me."
Both men fell silent. The air was filled with despair. The darkness enclosed them like a heavy burden. It seemed they had fallen into a black hole unable to crawl back to light.
Gil made the first move and retreated to the bed where he covered himself fully under the blanket. He was deeply ashamed. There. I fucked it up. Again. Iīm truly the biggest failure when it comes to relationships.
"Why should I trust you again?" Greg whispered finally obliging.
"Because Iīll tell you something Iīd never said before."
"Whatīs that supposed to be?"
"I love you."
to be continued
