A/N: This is set in my Lester/Becker 'verse, meant to take place a few months after the events of "Need a Second to Breathe". Um, if you haven't seen Jurassic Park (is there really anyone who hasn't?) this fic will spoil you a bit. Oh, and there's a passing mention of a 5x6 spoiler.
Hold My Hand and Tell Me It'll Be Okay
Becker had spent his Saturday afternoon wrestling a sort of extinct giant beaver (he was frankly relieved they'd gone extinct, rodents shouldn't be that large) back through an anomaly. As a result, he was quite looking forward to spending the rest of the evening relaxing with Lester and his son David, who was staying the weekend. Becker felt a tad guilty for being glad that the twins hadn't come over, but he honestly didn't feel up to dealing with them.
"Hey, guys," Becker said, walking into the living room and giving Lester a quick kiss hello.
David was on his knees in front of the television, inserting a disc into the DVD player, but he grinned when he saw Becker. "Hi, Hils! We're going to watch Jurassic Park, want to watch it with us?"
Becker raised an eyebrow at Lester, who shrugged. "His idea, I assure you."
"I'll come join you in a minute, okay?" Becker said.
"I hope you're going to change? You're covered in mud," Lester said, wrinkling his nose.
"So sorry, love, I thought you might actually want to see me or something, so I came home as soon as I could." And their shower was much nicer than the ones in the ARC. Becker wrapped his arms around Lester from behind and rested his chin on his shoulder, smiling when Lester wriggled away.
"Damn it, Hils, don't get your filth on me."
Becker laughed and gave David's shoulder a squeeze as he went towards the bedroom. "It warms the heart to see how much your dad loves me, doesn't it?"
"Daddy doesn't love anyone enough to put up with mess," David informed him while Lester contorted himself in an effort to make sure he hadn't got any dirt on his back.
He does sometimes when you're not around, Becker thought to himself, grinning. On occasion, Lester was quite willing to put up with Becker and a bit of dirt, or blood, or whatever it happened to be.
He ducked into the bathroom for a speedy shower, long enough to rid himself of the worst of the smell and grime, and changed into a T-shirt and an old pair of sweats. Then he joined Lester and David on the couch, sitting close enough to Lester that they just barely touched. Becker may have exhaled a small sigh of contentment- he wasn't sure when watching sci-fi with his lover and his lover's son had become his idea of a great Saturday night, but apparently it had.
Of course, before getting involved with Lester, Becker had often spent his free time catching Danny in the ventilation shafts, so it didn't take much to improve on that.
David pushed play on the remote while Lester said, "You're dripping water all over."
Becker ran a hand through his wet hair and shook his head. "There's no pleasing you, is there?"
"Quiet, it's starting," David said, glaring at them. Becker had learned quickly that David did not stand for talking during films.
It wasn't until they reached the part of the film where the Jeeps stalled in front of the T. rex enclosure that Becker started to feel slightly ill. He ignored it at first because it was dumb. It was only a film, right? But he knew what was coming, the dinosaur breaching the fence in the rain, the screaming, the way it grabbed the lawyer and shook him around. The sounds it made. Becker realised he was pressed back against the couch as far as he could go, hugging himself with his arms.
At the part when the water in the cup started to vibrate, Becker couldn't take it anymore. He stood up abruptly, mumbled something about going to get a drink, and then escaped to the kitchen. He leaned against the sink, hands clenching the edge. Fuck, his hands were trembling.
What the fuck was wrong with him? It was fucking Jurassic Park. Kids watched it. He'd watched it with Danny once, drinking beer and laughing. And now suddenly he was practically having a panic attack over it.
It was like he had fucking PTSD or something, which was ridiculous. Because a stupid dinosaur had thrown him against a tree? Please. "You're better than this, Becker," he told himself.
The sound of footsteps on the tile alerted him to Lester's presence seconds before Lester came up behind him, hovering, like he wasn't sure what he should do. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I'm sorry I interrupted the film."
"Don't worry about it. Just tell me how you are."
"I told you, I'm fine."
"Right. That's why you're hiding in the kitchen."
"I'm getting something to drink."
"I don't see a glass anywhere."
"Christ, you're annoying," Becker said, finally spinning around so he could see Lester. "All right, so I may possibly be freaking out a little bit. But I'm handling it."
Lester stared at him unblinkingly, carefully examining his face, before he sighed and turned away. "Okay. I'm not… Will you just remember that I'm here? I want to help you, whatever you need, so just… Bugger," he said, sweeping his hands through his hair. "I'll leave you alone, if that's what you want."
The problem was that Becker didn't know what he wanted. He was used to dealing with things on his own. He liked dealing with things on his own- no fussing, no awkwardness, no having to talk… no one else knowing that he didn't have everything perfectly under control.
But Lester already knew that Becker didn't have things under control, had probably known since before Becker had even got up to go in the kitchen. It was fucking impossible to fool him, which was the problem with being in a relationship. They knew each too well.
And the thing was, Lester made Becker feel better. He never even really had to do anything, but just simply having him there made things more bearable.
Shit, Becker was pathetic.
"Don't leave," he said, stopping Lester before he went out of the room.
Lester turned back around, moving a few steps closer to Becker again. "Tell me what you want."
"I…" Becker edged one step in Lester's direction and then just stood there. Don't make me say it, please, just…
"Hils, sweetheart," Lester said, coming forward to take Becker in his arms.
Becker hunched slightly, letting his forehead drop down onto Lester's shoulder. He stood there breathing in the faint remnants of Lester's cologne and the warmer smell that was just Lester himself and felt a little bit more like himself, more relaxed and not so panicked. "Thank you," he mumbled and Lester squeezed him tighter. "I know I'm being stupid about this."
"You went through a traumatic experience. It isn't stupid to be affected by it."
"But it's sodding Jurassic Park."
"The special effects do hold up quite well."
Becker huffed a laugh into Lester's shirt. He didn't know how Lester always managed to do that, make him feel like it wasn't silly to be emotional while defusing the tension at the same time. "At least I wasn't hiding in the toilet when it grabbed me."
"Yes, I'm sure you looked much more dignified." And Becker could practically feel Lester's hesitation, the way he seemed to stiffen. "If it… if it helps, at all, I wanted to get up and leave, too. I knew when I saw it I was just going to think about you, like that."
Closing his eyes, Becker tilted his head, pressed his mouth against Lester's skin and kissed his neck. "I don't know that I'd say it helps, but at least I know I'm not the only ridiculous one here."
"I don't know about that," Lester said, pulling back. "Would you like me to tell David that you aren't feeling well? I'm sure you can find something to occupy yourself with until we've finished."
Becker almost said yes. It would have been easier that way and maybe it was even a good idea, but it felt like running. Becker thought he had done quite enough running from his problems without avoiding this one, too.
And, okay, it might have been a bit of a pride thing, too. He wasn't about to admit that he was scared to watch Jurassic Park. "No, that's all right. I'm sure I'll be fine if you put your arm around me," Becker said, smirking.
Lester squeezed his hip. "Of course I will, pumpkin, and don't forget to close your eyes if it gets too frightening."
"My hero," Becker drawled. "You do take such wonderful care of me."
"Anything for you, precious. You have such a fragile temperament, after all."
"If David wasn't here, I'd show you just how fragile I am," Becker said, biting Lester's ear.
"I suppose that demonstration will have to wait until tomorrow." Lester's expression was casually disinterested, but Becker could tell by his eyes how willing Lester would be to take part.
They walked back out into the living room together and it took Becker a moment to figure out what was strange- it was silent, no noise from the television. David was sitting with his arms around his knees, chin resting on his kneecaps, watching the blank screen. He sat back up when he saw them, stretching his legs down over the edge of the couch.
"You didn't have to stop the film, David. I told you that you could keep watching without us," Lester said.
"I know, but I… I didn't really want to watch it anymore." David hesitated for a moment and then said, eyes fixed on Becker, "It's because of what happened to you, isn't it? When you were in hospital?"
Becker didn't want to lie, so he answered simply, "Yes."
"I thought so. I don't think I can watch it again, either." David looked miserable, face downcast and a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth, his fingers picking at a loose thread in his jumper.
"Oh, David, don't let me ruin the film for you," Becker said, sitting beside him on the couch. "Really, it was completely different. It wasn't even a T. rex."
"But it bit you, just like in the film. I saw your scars." He was gazing intently at Becker's shirt, like he could see through to the scars if he stared hard enough.
"Yes, but…" Becker searched for the proper thing to say, wanting to make it better, knowing that David had had nightmares after Lester got hurt, that he still had them. "I shot it in the face, David, and it dropped me. I was rather a more difficult meal than it had anticipated."
"You shot it in the face?" David repeated, his eyes large and maybe a little awed. He looked at Lester for confirmation.
"It sounds absurd, but that is what happened," Lester said.
"Brilliant," David breathed.
Becker couldn't help but feel a glimmer of pride. At least someone didn't think he was a complete idiot. "So, you see? Not the same at all. The worst bit was because I got in the way of the tail. Do you know how that happened?"
"No."
"It was raining and muddy and I slipped."
"You slipped in the mud?" David said, giggling.
And Becker had probably just ratcheted down in David's esteem with that piece of information. "Stupid, right?"
"Really stupid."
Lester was trying to communicate something to Becker with a twitch of his eyebrow, and luckily Becker was well-versed in James Lester. "But the most important thing is that it's only a film. I know it might seem real because of what your dad and I deal with, but it's nothing like that. If you think about it, most of the trouble in Jurassic Park comes from the fact that the characters are morons, right? There's the fat guy who's rubbish at being a villain, the girl who screams a lot, and the paleontologist who's trying to protect everyone but he doesn't even have a weapon. If I'd been in the film, I can promise you the body count would have been quite a lot lower."
Becker could see Lester rolling his eyes over David's head but David was laughing and looking much more reassured than he had a few minutes ago. "And if they'd had your dad, well, he would have made one phone call and solved the whole mess."
"Two at the outside," Lester said, ruffling David's hair.
And David was smiling again, happy, and Becker realised that he sort of felt better, too. Talking it through with David made the whole thing seem that much easier to cope with.
Although… he still wasn't sure he wanted to watch the bit with the T. rex.
"Can we still skip this part, though?" David asked.
Lester smiled at him, reaching his arm across the back of the couch behind David's head to clasp Becker's shoulder. "Yes, we can skip this part."
And Becker was more than willing to take advantage of an eight-year-old's anxiety to conceal his own, but one look at Lester's face told him Lester wasn't fooled in the slightest. He probably would have been disgruntled about it, but with Lester's hand resting comfortingly on his shoulder and David tucked up between them, he couldn't quite find the energy.
End
