Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot!
Maybe it was fate that led him to do it, but he wouldn't ever really know for sure. All he knew was that his belief in God was sparked a little. What else could have made this happen? It had been a very long day and Greg just wanted to get home. He sat in his small car in the parking lot of the lab and turned the stereo on, letting the vehicle run for a moment to warm up. A blast of sound met his ears and he let his head fall back against the seat in exhaustion.
Without really looking he reached out a hand, groping blindly for the dashboard controls and turning off the CD. For once he wasn't in the mood for wordless noise. But he had never been one for the radio, so he didn't know which stations would be good. He found the 'seek' button and lazily flipped it down again and again, hoping for something pleasing to meet his ears. With each flick he stopped for about thirty seconds to listen to what was playing, but nothing caught his interest so he moved on.
"And who's this dedicated to Nick?" Greg had no idea what made him pause for this. Nick was an extremely common name; it couldn't possibly be the one that he knew. And maybe it really was fate, or God, or something like that, but something stayed his hand on the seek button and he waited a moment longer to hear what the caller in to the station would say. Apparently they had made a song request. A crackly chuckle met his ears and he briefly wondered why the radio stations always seemed to have bad connection.
"It's for Greg, because there's no way he's listening to this!" The voice was familiar, even through the crackle. Greg would know that voice under water with a sound distortion device screwing up the airwaves. He would know that voice in the dead of sleep, and it could bring him out of that sleep too. It was the voice of the Nick he knew, Nick Stokes, calling in to a radio station that Greg belatedly realized was a country request station, and dedicating it to him. Because he wouldn't hear it. But that didn't make sense. The DJ laughed out loud.
"There's one I've never heard," the man admitted jovially, "requesting something because you know they aren't listening. Well here goes folks, Carolyn Dawn Johnson, Complicated, dedicated to Greg." The first few notes were sweet and slow and so country Greg would normally have groaned and rolled his eyes. But now he sat still, mesmerized by the tune. Why would Nick dedicate a song to him called Complicated? He burned to know what the words would say, and he didn't have long to wait.
I'm so scared that the way I feel
Is written all over my face
When you walk into the room
I wanna find a hiding place
We used to laugh, we used to hug, the way that old friends do
But now a smile and a touch of your hand
Just makes me come unglued
Such a contradiction, do I lie or tell the truth
Is it fact or fiction
Oh the way I feel for you
It was a woman's voice coming through the speakers, and Greg didn't even realize that the sound was still turned up to ear splitting volumes. The words she was singing were filling the air around him until it became so thick he almost couldn't breathe. What could Nick be trying to tell him, or not tell him as the case may be? All he could do was close his eyes tighter and try to convince his lungs to take in air as he continued to listen.
So complicated, I'm so frustrated
I wanna hold you close, I wanna push you away
I wanna make you go, I wanna make you stay
Should I say it
Should I tell you how I feel
Oh, I want you to know
But then again I don't
It's so complicated
He couldn't help his eyes opening in shock, but he didn't see anything at all and he didn't even feel the wetness gathering in the corners as his thought process ground to a shuttering aching halt. He knew the feeling of wanting to run and hide every time he caught sight of a certain familiar face. He knew how it felt to be conflicted between the all consuming need to reach out and pull them closer together and the overpowering urge to push them as far apart as possible. He got it every time they stood next to each other. Each time they spoke he couldn't decide whether to ask Nick to come closer or stand farther away. Torture either way, because they would never touch. Or, so he thought.
Oh just when I think I'm under control
I think I got a grip
Another friend tells me that
My name is always on your lips
They say I'm more than just a friend, they say I must be blind
Well, I admit that I've seen you watch me from the corner of your eye
Oh, It's so confusing
Yeah I wish you'd just confess
But think of what I'd be losing
If your answer wasn't yes
Perhaps he should have cracked a window, because Greg was fairly sure he was about to suffocate. And maybe the car's heater wasn't on but it was suddenly too hot in here. He did watch Nick, but definitely not from the corner of his eye. He stared, and he wasn't going to deny it. He stared hard and long and longingly, looking after something he thought he would never get. And he knew that it made people suspicious, how he could always find a way to work Nick in to a conversation. But he didn't care because it just felt good to say the name. Nick. Nick Stokes. He couldn't help it if the man was always filling his thoughts. As much as the sound was filling his mind.
Greg felt that if he listened much longer he might explode from the feelings welling up in his chest. He didn't really understand them all, but he was sure they must be good. Or maybe they weren't because he suddenly became aware of tears falling down his cheeks and people only cried when they were sad, right? He'd never been happy enough to cry before. But maybe God really existed and maybe he was smiling down at Greg. And Greg closed his eyes again, soaking in the words pounding on his windows, bouncing around the small space, and ricocheting off his heart.
So complicated, I'm so frustrated
I wanna hold you close, I wanna push you away
I wanna make you go, I wanna make you stay
Should I say it
Should I tell you how I feel
Oh I want you to know
But then again I don't
It's so complicated
It was complicated, she way saying. Nick was saying it was complicated. But Greg couldn't help but come to the realization that this was all very simple and they had been making it complicated for so long. They were stupid, of course, to not see how extremely uncomplicated this all really was. Through his tears and closed eyes and swollen heart, Greg smiled. He smiled and continued crying his happy tears, now that he knew what they were, and he let the song finish because he no longer felt like he might die. He might swell and burst and perhaps he might never be the same again. But really, maybe fate had planned that. Maybe he wasn't supposed to be the same because after the first time he saw Nick, Greg had never been the same anyway.
Oh, I hate it
Cause I've waited
So long for someone like you
Oh, what do I do
Oh should I say it
Should I tell you how I feel
I want you to know
But then again I don't
It's so complicated
It's so complicated
It's so complicated
Oh
And he wasn't meant to hear it. The most beautiful part was that fate had stayed his hand and he had heard what he wasn't meant to hear. The most perfect part was that now the power to set everything right was in his hands, and Greg didn't hesitate for a moment. He knew just what he wanted to do. Another song request was taken as Greg wiped his sleeve across his eyes and regained some sense of self. A new rhythm was blasting out of the stereo when he heard a knocking, looking over to see Catherine standing outside his window. He rolled it down and looked at her quizzically. She seemed greatly amused by something.
"Gee Greggo, I didn't know you liked country," she said, laughter in her voice. Greg looked up at her with a secret smile tugging at his lips. The song was still filling the space inside his car, still slowing his heart and lungs until he had to fight to breathe. It was a good fight, but he wasn't ready to let her in on it. Not just yet. Because Greg already had his plan in mind, but he would need the internet to help him with this. So he just blinked and smiled once more.
"You have no idea how much I love country."