Disclaimer: Don't own. If I did, George would end with someone on the show. Preferably either Elliot, Trevor, or someone played by Jason Dohring. ;)
A/N: Well, this is my first attempt at George/Trevor. A few authors have written it (mostly as a beta pairing for E/O) and I wanted to, also. But without the E/O. I know I probably shouldn't be starting YET ANOTHER story, but, well... I couldn't resist! Anywayyyy, here's some slashy goodness!
Being woken up at three in the morning was, unfortunately, not an uncommon occurrence for George. Usually, though, it was his pager warning him that one of his patients having an emergency, but in this case, it was his cell phone.
He fumbled ungracefully for several moments before flipping it open and asking, "Wa's goin' on?" He was slightly embarrassed that his voice betrayed his fatigue, but he was only human. And humans didn't wake up immediately. Especially not when they'd been woken at three in the morning for the second day in the row.
"Sorry, Doc," Olivia said. "But we finally made an arrest in the James case, and he seems... off. The captain wanted me to call you and ask you to come check him out."
Groaning inwardly, George muttered, "I'll be there as soon as I can," and hung up. He stood and got ready quickly, deciding to wear a warm sweater and slacks.
He poured himself a large cup of coffee and brought it with him on the drive to the precinct. By the time he got there, he was mostly awake; still less alert than usual, but functional.
"He's been rambling about how the women were trying to steal his thoughts," Elliot explained as they walked towards the interrogation room. "I don't want him to get off on a psych defense if he's just faking."
Just as George was about to enter the interrogation room, a sharp voice called, "You had better not be interrogating my client without counsel!"
George turned around, and barely kept himself from staring. He always seemed to have this problem with Trevor, ever since they had first met on a case three months ago. Ever since then he'd felt a simmering lust towards him, and, after their most recent encounter, he was beginning to develop feelings for him, too. Trevor was passionate about his job, the same way George was, and he was also... not outwardly compassionate, but George barely needed his knowledge of psychology to know that behind closed doors, Trevor would be kind and gentle.
"I was just going to do a mental status exam," George explained.
"I still want to be in the room," Trevor said flatly.
Glancing at Elliot, George nodded and said, "That's fine."
The three of them walked in the room. There were only two chairs at the table, so Trevor and Elliot leaned against a wall, letting George sit down across from the perp, Justin Reynolds.
"Hello, Justin. I'm doctor George Huang," George introduced himself.
"Did they send you?" Justin asked, voice wavering slightly from worry.
"Who's 'they'?" George asked.
"The... the people... they keep trying to steal my thoughts, and I can't let them! I CAN'T LET THEM!" Justin cried.
"Why do you think they're stealing your thoughts?" George asked softly.
"I don't THINK, I KNOW! I have to stop them!" Justin said. His speech was rapid, and he was tapping his fingers restlessly on the table.
George noted the psychomotor agitation, and he knew there was no faking that sort of tension; Justin believed what he was saying. "How long have they been trying to steal your thoughts?" He asked.
"For a few years now! And now they're sending in people like you to do it!" Justin yelled, standing up from the table.
George knew what was going to happen an instant before Justin moved, but still a second too late. Elliot tried to move to protect him, but he ended up being too slow.
Justin yanked George out of the chair and pinned George to the wall. He hit George's head against it several times, thoroughly disorienting George and making the room spin around him. He gasped in pain, a pain like thunder erupting in his head. He was punched and kicked repeatedly- his left eye, his nose, his chest and stomach. He felt several ribs crack, and he raised his left hand in attempt to defend himself. The man grabbed his wrist and twisted, causing a sickening crack to fill the room.
Then Justin's hands wrapped around George's throat. George tried to remove his hands, but he couldn't move. He was vaguely aware of someone finally ripping the man off, and someone else supporting him, but he was only semi-conscious and unable to register who was who. The pain made it hard to focus, the room tipped around him, and his vision was blurred.
"Doctor Huang, can you hear me?" A panicked voice shouted.
George staggered sideways, having completely lost his sense of balance. The strong arms repositioned him and the voice repeated, "Can you hear me?"
"Mm..." George wobbled again, and the hold tightened in response. "Mm-hmm..."
"I need an actual answer." George fought to speak, but no words came. He moaned softly in pain and closed his eyes, barely having the strength to keep them open. His head was bleeding, he realized when he felt a warm, wet sensation.
"Stay with me- you have a concussion, it's not safe to fall asleep," The man said, shifting slightly.
George felt more comfortable in this man's arms than he had in a long time, even if he did have a concussion. George was pressed tightly to him, and he could almost hear his heartbeat. His vision cleared for a moment, and he saw Trevor's face. "T... Trevor..." He murmured.
"Yeah, that's right," Trevor murmured, setting a hand on George's head. "Fuck, George, he beat the shit out of you."
"It's... it's okay..." George managed. He wanted to tell Trevor just how much he was enjoying the embrace, but he didn't want to annoy him.
He felt Trevor shifting again as the door opened and several EMT's rushed in. "I'm going to help you to the stretcher, okay?" He asked.
"Uh-huh," George hummed. He felt himself being gently lifted and carried, and then he was set on something that wasn't soft, but not unpleasantly hard either.
"Here, let me help him," Trevor said to the EMT's. He moved to help ease George back.
But before George could lie down, darkness consumed him, and he slumped forward into the other man's arms.
Trevor had known his client was agitated, but he hadn't expected this. He'd watched in horror as the man attacked Huang, slamming his head into a wall and punching and kicking him viciously. He winced at the crack that sounded when his client snapped Huang's wrist.
Detective Stabler immediately moved to subdue him, and Benson rushed in to help him, which left Trevor to help George. George was completely out of it, and he was alarmingly off-balance. Trevor could tell, with one look, that he had a serious concussion, and he felt his heart sink. Trevor was almost panicked. He did truly care; he'd taken a liking to Huang as of late. The man was everything he wanted, so, even though they didn't talk very often, he found himself falling for him hard and fast.
He tried to keep George awake and talking, but he was so disoriented that Trevor wouldn't have been surprised if he couldn't remember his own name. He held George firmly in his grip, and even though he knew he shouldn't be thinking it given the circumstances, he really enjoyed having the other man in his arms. It just felt... right. But he forced himself to push the thought away; the need to help was more pressing.
He blinked in shock when George murmured, "T...Trevor..." Not only was him speaking at all a slight miracle, but he was actually using his first name...
"Yeah, that's right," He replied. He touched the gash on George's head, heart pounding as he said, "Fuck, George, he beat the shit out of you."
"Its... it's okay..." George said. Trevor heard an emotion there, one he couldn't quite place, but it still sounded genuine. It sounded like George really cared.
Just then, the EMT's arrived, and after making sure George understood, Trevor lifted him to carry him to the stretcher. He knew the EMT's wanted to use a board and other such equipment, but he knew, somehow, that the other man would prefer this.
But when George passed out, going limp in his arms, he thought the worst, and he swallowed against the sick feeling that rose in his stomach. When EMT's said he still had a pulse, Trevor felt relief flooding him, and he released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
"Can I ride with him?" Trevor asked suddenly, looking from the EMT's to Elliot and Olivia.
Olivia looked at him with a knowing expression on her face that made him feel slightly uncomfortable, while Elliot looked him over for a minute, searching for something. Apparently deciding that Trevor's intentions were good, he nodded and said, "Yeah, sure. We'll take a police car."
Calling a quick "Thanks!" over his shoulder, Trevor followed behind the stretcher as the EMT's wheeled it out of the room. Once they were outside, he climbed into ambulance behind them. One of the EMT's got on the radio and called, "Asian male in his forties, concussion and head gash, multiple cuts and bruises, broken wrist. Suspected rib fractures."
Trevor swallowed visibly and reached out to touch George. He held the psychiatrist's limp hand as the EMT's moved around them, thoughts racing. He knew he wasn't in love with George- not yet, at least- but he still liked him quite a lot. Ever since that first case they'd worked together, something had just clicked.
"Hold on, George," Trevor murmured, reaching another hand out and stroking George's forehead. The contact was intimate, but he enjoyed it. Being who he was, he very rarely got to be affectionate to people.
Assuming George survived, maybe he could continue to do that...
The panic returned in full force, but he concealed the emotion well. Resting his thumb over George's brow, he whispered, "Please, just hold on."