Day 64

"Any differences without drugs now?"

"Not really. I had a headache the last two days, but nothing bad."

"That's really good. We still need to watch this, though, in case your state gets worse again. But as I said already, I don't think so. I'm really proud of you, Grell."

"Well, it was Undertaker who did this."

"But still you had to accept the fact that he wanted to help you and you actively decided for getting rid of your father or rather of thoughts of him, it was you alone who decided for this."

"Okay, although you still don't need to be proud of me."

"You are my patient and you are as good as healed, so of course am proud. Not only that, you are doing your best to make a man who has the same problem as you feel better as well, I would call this quite an achievement. How is he now?"

"A lot better! He really laughed yesterday. And there were only two...attacks? I don't know how to call it, in the last four days. Well, that's still a lot, but better than before."

"That's good to hear."

"Why aren't you his doctor as well?"

"You could say that my capacity is reached. Dr. Green is a very skilled man and he shares my opinion concerning the electroconvulsion therapy, though, so Alan didn't have to fear anything."

"He is interested in men too."

Dr. Spears sighed, leaning back. He was probably thinking something like 'Why is everyone here gay?!'.

"Why do I even wonder. I don't know what Dr. Green would do if he found out. It's always better to keep it a secret. Anyway, do you have any more questions? Anything you want to talk about?"

"No, it's all fine, I guess."

"Good. Until tomorrow, then."

"Bye!"

Walking to the dining room, he hummed a song he had danced to with Undertaker two days ago, Rumba again. He really liked it because he could be so close to his love and rely on him fully. Was there anything better?

Alan smiled at him when he sat down and the ex-mortician stroked his thigh shortly.

"Hi, guys."

"Hey, Grell. I hope you are hungry, the meal doesn't look that bad today."

"Yeah, but we could both need a few more pounds. Although I gained some weight already. Just three or four more pounds and I look like I want to – still slim, but not so unhealthy."

Undertaker looked at him honestly.

"I like you either way, but being that thin just wasn't healthy, so it's better now."

Alan rolled his eyes lightly, but smiled a little.

"You are a cute couple, you know that?"

"Shh, careful! But thank you. I'm sure we'll find a nice guy for you too. What about this one?" He nodded at Peter Sandler, the man who always rocked back and forth wherever he was sitting and whispered things about his dead family. The brunette chuckled, slapping his arm.

"No, thank you, then I rather stay alone. If Eric was here, this would be a whole different case, but he wasn't the type who needs to get treated in an asylum."

"You really liked him, didn't you? When you still think about him?"

"Yeah...my life was just horrible. I never wanted to go home because I was afraid of my brother, I knew that I had cancer, I was always alone...and then I saw him. He was everything I always wanted to be, he seemed like he had no problems at all but friends instead. I admired him a lot and then...I noticed that I felt more for him, even if I didn't really know him. That's rather stupid, I know..."

His face got red and he looked down, biting his lips. Grell stroked his back in a comforting way.

"It's not stupid, it's understandable. What about his character?"

"He had a big mouth, but he was never really mean or anything, he even helped me once when I fell and all my things were spread on the ground. He was so calm and...tender then. It was probably nothing for him, but it meant so much to me. In the end I just got even more depressed because of it."

"Then don't think about it, think about now. Undie and me, we both like you. Maybe not in the way you liked Eric, but you still mean a lot to us."

"Yeah, I know, that's really cute from you. Who knows, maybe I'll find a better one than him?"

"You can't say there's no variety here. Everything from schizophrenia to histrionic personality disorder, you just have to choose", Grell giggled, waving around.

"This Mister Keinz you told me about seems really nice."

"Very. Technically you could betray him with himself."

The both chuckled and Undertaker, who had been silent all the time, shook his head.

"You are like giggly teenager girls."

Grell pouted at him.

"Is that so bad?"

"It was just a statement, not criticism.

In the evening, Grell sat down and rubbed his eyes, being really exhausted. Probably because of the 'deprivation' too. Undertaker knelt down before him, taking his face into his hands.

"You look tired, dear."

"I am tired, was a long day."

"Do you want a massage until you fall asleep?"

"Please?"

"Okay, then lay down."

The redhead removed his shirt, by now without even thinking about it, and laid down on his tummy, getting goosebumps when he felt his love's warm hands on his back, caressing it softly.

"You are so pretty, dear...I love your back, it's so small and fragile, you have the perfect shape now."

He ran his finger tips over Grell's spine, then outlined his shoulder blades and let them wander over his ribs that couldn't be seen that clear under his skin anymore. The redhead breathed out when he started to massage him, closing his eyes. Undertaker worked on the knots in a gentle way, so Grell would be able to drift off, and ran his lips over his skin too every now and then, feeling how smooth and flawless it was, like milk.

It didn't take him long to fall asleep. The ex-mortician chuckled lowly when the person under his fingers didn't react anymore, just slept peacefully, long lashes surrounding the eye lid like a fan and rosy, perfectly formed lips, slightly parted. He bent down to kiss his cheek, then pulled Grell on top of himself to warm him and spread the comforter over them, arms wrapped around his love's small waist.