Chapter One
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This is the romantic relationship I always saw happening between Nick and Tom in The Stand. I am mostly familiar with the TV movie, so though I've read the book, that's what this is based on. Let me know if you have any questions, and enjoy the story.
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"M-O-O-N, that spells Nebraskaaa!"
Nick smiled widely at the older man's enthusiasm, barely able to read the words he was shouting from his lips as he zoomed past. He felt unsure about the new association, but good about getting the poor, lonely man out of the graveyard town they were leaving behind. He was clearly a good man, even if he was a little slow. He felt sure they could find a way to "talk", it would just take a little more effort on his part.
The hot wind felt good in Nick's face, and he kept on grinning, even when the strain of pedaling stole his breath and sent sweat dripping down his temples and neck. It felt good to have someone to ride with as well, the scenery blowing past quickly, hours falling away. When he eventually needed a break, he had to speed up to get Tom's attention since he couldn't call. It seemed his companion would never tire, but he slowed and stopped behind Nick, climbing off his bike and clapping him on the arm. "You okay, Mister?" Nick caught him saying before he looked down, trying to shade his face.
He nodded and leaned on his knees, sucking in warm air. He gestured to his pack, then his mouth, then his pack again. It was a futile gesture, he figured; there was no way Tom could understand his perfectly good pantomine of "deaf and mute", so he would never understand he was asking for water, for the bottle hidden in the side pocket...
He was startled to find that exact bottle held right in front of his eyes. He looked up in surprise to see Tom's red face towering over him, trying to catch the end of what he was saying. "...thirsty like a dog, I bet. Laws, yes! Here, Mister, you drink, you look parched, right parched."
Nick had downed half the bottle before he thought better of it, handing the rest sheepishly to his new friend. Tom held out his hand in denial. "Oh, no, that's yours! I don' wanna steal your water, I don't." He ignored Nick's emphatic gesture, continuing with, "I know s'not proper stealing, an' I should have thought to pack some. That's my own fault, yes sir."
It was clear he was getting nowhere, and Tom wouldn't last long with nothing to drink. So Nick moved to his bike and opened the basket on the front, showing Tom that it was filled with water bottles, before thrusting the open one out again. "Oh! All right then." He felt a strange little jump in his chest as Tom downed the remaining water quickly, a few drops trickling down his muscled throat and under his collar to join the sweat there. He kept staring as Tom wiped his brow and mouth on his sleeve, finding something captivating about the motion.
It wasn't until Tom crushed the bottle that he jumped forward, grabbing it and blowing into it to expand the plastic again. Replacing the cap, he stowed it in an empty sack and put it in the basket of his bicycle with the full bottles. He turned to see Tom looking agitated. "...Golly," he was saying, digging his palm into his eye. "I shoulda thought we could refill it, I'm so sorry..."
Grabbing his wrist, Nick shook his head and smiled to show he wasn't worried. It was clear this poor man had been maligned his whole life for his disability, something Nick knew more about than he wished he did. His chest ached as Tom looked up, obviously waiting for some sort of reprimand as he flinched away, so Nick took his hand and squeezed, shaking his head, before climbing back onto his bicycle.
When he turned back, Tom was looking confused, but hopeful.
Nick smiled widely, then tilted his head towards the road.
"My lands, yes, let's go! Let's get as far as we can!" Tom exclaimed, quickly mounting his own bicycle with growing excitement. And they were off again.
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o0o
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Nick had chosen a small clearing in the trees to set up their camp the first night, and though he was more than accepting of his friend's condition, he did not feel confident trusting the set up to Tom. He managed to indicate to him that they needed branches and small logs for a fire, and turned to making up the campsite.
By the time Nick had finished setting up the small tent he'd scavenged from the local sporting good store, he turned around to see various ribbons and baubles swinging in the breeze from the branches around them, bundles of wildflowers tied amongst them. He further saw a ring of stones had been placed, with a pile of large branches and logs next to it. There was also a heap of kindling nearby, and when he finally located Tom, he found the simple man braiding together strands of wild daisies into a kind of garland that he'd begun stringing around the edge of the trees along with the ribbons.
Amused and entranced, seeing that he had clearly underestimated his new companion's abilities, he walked up behind Tom and noticed the man's lips seemed to be forming words at odd intervals. He's singing, Nick thought, and without thinking he placed his hand on the other man's chest.
To his disappointment, Tom stopped and looked down at the hand on him, puzzled for a moment. "Oh, I suppose you've never heard music before, have you, Mister?" he asked.
The deaf man shook his head, then remembered his first dream of Mother Abigail. He had heard her singing in his mind but how could he tell Tom that? There was really no way to explain... He focused back on the other man and shook his head again.
Tom grinned and took his hand, moving it up closer to his throat before continuing his song, going back to his daisy-chaining unabashedly. Nick pressed his hand in a bit, trying to match the vibrations up with the words he could read coming from his new friend's lips.
"Oh give me a home where the buffalo roam,
Where the deer and the antelope play,
Where seldom is heard a discouraging word,
And the skies are not cloudy all day..."
Nick smiled; he knew the words to this song, but he'd never experienced it like he did now. It wasn't particularly deep as lyrics went, but the feeling with which Tom was singing more than made up for it; of course, a home where discouraging words were rare would be like heaven to either of them. He watched Tom's joyful face as he sang and braided, switching between song easily, mostly songs that Nick was unacquainted with.
"Learned ta sing from my Momma," he admitted after a while, grinning shyly at Nick, voice deep with emotion. "She said I was pretty good, my Momma. I miss her somethin' fierce."
Nick nodded and patted Tom's back with his other hand.
"How'd ya like ta hear some a' her favorites, Mister?" Tom asked hopefully.
Nick didn't bother to correct him, merely nodding eagerly. A few songs were familiar to him, based on the words he saw coming from Tom's lips, but after a bit, he felt his heart breaking at the words he saw.
"And the people bowed and prayed
To the neon god they made.
And the sign flashed out its warning
In the words that it was forming..."
The devastation surrounding them somehow seemed to be mimicked in the lyrics, which Nick had never encountered before. A kind of desolation came over him, staring blankly at Tom's mouth as a knot rose in his throat.
"Laws, what is it?" Tom uttered abruptly, breaking his pattern and shocking Nick out of his thoughts. "Don't look so sad, Mister, I'll stop singin', don't you worry about that."
Nick shook his head and leaned his head against Tom's chest before he could think better of it, taking comfort in the hot solidity of his flesh. After a moment, Tom wrapped his arms around Nick and starting braiding the flowers again, the vibrations of his voice a pleasant unknown against Nick's cheek as the song continued.
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o0o
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They ate before the hastily constructed fire, which had allowed them to make a small amount of coffee in a collapsible percolator that Nick had managed to pack. He set it aside for the morning, when they would be waking well before dawn to get a good start during the coolest part of the day.
The night's feast was beef jerky, peanuts, and raisins, the salty fare gumming in their mouths. Nick had picked up the lightest, highest calorie and protein food for their journey, knowing they weren't likely to see many animals now that they super flu had taken them out. Still, they were sure to happen upon various abandoned convenience stores and the like as they made their way northward, so he didn't worry overly much.
He looked up to see the ribbons and flowers Tom had strung everywhere cast in oranges and reds by the fire, thinking how beautiful the place was. He realized now, despite his original misgivings, that Tom was almost the perfect companion for him on this journey. Accepting, helpful, and lighthearted, Tom saw the world in a way that made everything both easier and joyful. As he stood, intending to get an early night, he took Tom's hand and held it briefly and firmly, grateful for his presence.
Tom looked as though he didn't know what to say. He swallowed, looking at his large hand clasped in Nick's two smaller ones. "Thanks," the older man said softly. "Thanks for takin' me with you, Mister. I wish I knew your name."
Nick echoed the sentiment mentally, touching his hand to his chest, then climbed into the tent. He tried to close his eyes and relax as he felt Tom climb in beside him a few minutes later. It was the easiest and safest thing to share one tent, after all. Tom could hear, and he could wake Nick if some danger approached, and they'd be more likely to get out of it together than alone.
It was hard to fall asleep in the heat that still lingered; in the middle of summer, it was unlikely the temperature would drop below 80 degrees, even at night, in this part of the country. No matter how he tried, he couldn't shake the intense awareness of the other man near him.
He finally cracked his eyelids, wondering if he'd find Tom Cullen in a similar predicament, to find him lying on his back. His arms were flung out at odd angles, his face turned towards Nick's and eyes closed as he breathed evenly, an expression of absolute trust across his features.
Somehow, this sight made his chest ache, and he reached out to touch Tom's hand gently before he closed his eyes again, drifting slowly into blissful sleep...
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To Be Continued
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