Author's note: I'm sorry this took me so long, but real life can be darn stressing and without the muse to kick me...
But by now I have a clear picture where this will lead to and I'm positive that x-mas vacation will offer me a bit more time to write.
Hope you enjoy this chapter.
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We're heading for the hospital. A glance at my watch reveals that it's already close to noon! Not caring about anything anymore I enter Gil's car and slump down on the right front-seat. Cath occupies the back-seat. Gil drives, calm and steady as usually. Only the hard white line around his lips and a few, slightly deeper wrinkles around his eyes betray how tense he truly is.
"Why was he alone there?" my boss asks us. My boss. Right now he's far from being anything but that.
"I don't know." Cath defends herself. It had not been her decision. "I had War and Nick assigned to that missing case. I don't know why he went alone."
"It's my fault." I admit with a low voice.
"What did you say?" Gil asks with a frown. Oh that goddamn increasing hearing-loss of his! I could yell at them. Fuck's sake, I do need something to let off steam, really do! I grit my teeth and take a deep breath. Then, louder this time, I repeat: "It's MY fault."
"Care to clarify?"
Honestly, no. I don't. I wipe my face and pull my hair. Why is Cath here? Why do I have to do this? This is so damned personal. For the first time I feel like a suspect being interrogated, having people snoop around in my very private matters. I'm wincing "We clashed somewhat. I tried to talk to him about what he saw at your place earlier."
"So you realized he was royally shocked." Gil states.
"Right. So this missing-case – the guy's into S&M and apparently gay. We find an issue of a weird magazine at his place and this ad he'd circled. I found it and Nick flips the pages, sees the pictures and God! Can you imagine what looks he gave me?"
"No."
"These: ' I always knew gays were but a bunch of sick pervs' looks. Like he believes that is what we're into because all gays do just that. I – I think I blew a gasket." I haven't felt so guilty since Holly was shot. If I had not yelled at Nick like I had, he would have waited, I'm certain.
"That wasn't exactly what we agreed to do, was it, Warrick?"
"I'm not a pervert!" I'm yelling. "I'm sick of hiding, I'm sick of hearing all that bullshit all the time. And there's my best friend telling me he's not willing to investigate some missing perverted gay bastard. That bastard could have been me, right? Or you. I just couldn't take it any longer!" my fist slams into the dashboard and it hurts! Kinda calms me a tad down. Not too much, though. There's definitely not enough air in the car.
The car has stopped at some point of my ranting. Gil grabs my arm.
"Christ's sake, Warrick, get a grip!"
"Gil? Why don't you take Warrick someplace calmer and I drive to the hospital?" I almost jump out of my skin when I hear Cath from behind. I groan my delight about her having been forced to watch my little freakin'.
"No. I wanna go there. Wanna see how he's doin'." I turn the offer down immediately.
"Do you think you can handle it?" Gil gives me a sharp glance.
"Yeah...yeah I can." At least I do hope so. Damn, but I need to calm down. But how? I caused this mess. I have driven Nicky into this situation. I'm drowning in guilt and I certainly will not be able to handle it if Nicky is – in any form – permanently afflicted. I'm not used to being personally involved into a case that deeply. I bury my face in my hands as Gil proceeds to drive us.
The waiting is the worse. They're all huddled in a corner near the vending-machine. Nobody talks. I'm pacing the room like a caged tiger and they stay clear of me. It's better that way. I'm not in the mood to have anybody come across my path.
At least I'm having some kind of clear moment here. All this shit initially happened because of my problem. No, not the being-bi thing. That ain't a problem. Gambling. That's it. If I hadn't had a fallback, Nick would never have seen what he saw at Gil's. No clash, no nothing. OK, I would have continued to live that little lie 'bout me and Gil but things would be fine. From my actual point of view that would have been a small price.
The doctor arrives! Oh sweet baby Jesus, let him be OK. I promise to be a good boy from now on, just let Nick be OK!
...
My knees grow weak with relief: a cracked rib, a heavy dose of drugs but no injuries, no signs of rape, nothing. As soon as he wakes, he'll be as good as new. My hands shake.
"I'll take you home." Gil takes me to the car and drives.
"I don't want to go home. I...I need to let off some steam!" uh-oh. He gives me a looooong stare, then nods and turns left. I find myself in an amusement-park, a fat rubber-rope attached to my ankles. The platform is damn high. 150 feet over ground. It looked high from below, but from up here it's....... awfully scary. I spread my arms and let myself slowly tilt forward. A bit more and a bit further until there is no turning back.
I'm falling, headfirst downward. My stomach somersaults, my heart skips a beat, it feels almost as if it is going to a cardiac arrest.
This takes damn long!
The ground is VERY close now.
God, I hope that rope wasn't too long.
Shouldn't it be stopping me by now?
I feel panic grip me and I almost wet my pants when the rope tightens and pulls me back up. Oh, man!
"Do you feel better now?" Gil's eyes observe me intently and although he never touches me in public I do feel embraced at this moment.
"Different. NOW I do want to go home." I still can't believe he made me jump! "That was really scary, Gil."
"Well, you refused the other option. I needed to so something, didn't I?"
I think he's right. Still, seeing Lady Heather for a session was out of the question for me.
But by now I have a clear picture where this will lead to and I'm positive that x-mas vacation will offer me a bit more time to write.
Hope you enjoy this chapter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We're heading for the hospital. A glance at my watch reveals that it's already close to noon! Not caring about anything anymore I enter Gil's car and slump down on the right front-seat. Cath occupies the back-seat. Gil drives, calm and steady as usually. Only the hard white line around his lips and a few, slightly deeper wrinkles around his eyes betray how tense he truly is.
"Why was he alone there?" my boss asks us. My boss. Right now he's far from being anything but that.
"I don't know." Cath defends herself. It had not been her decision. "I had War and Nick assigned to that missing case. I don't know why he went alone."
"It's my fault." I admit with a low voice.
"What did you say?" Gil asks with a frown. Oh that goddamn increasing hearing-loss of his! I could yell at them. Fuck's sake, I do need something to let off steam, really do! I grit my teeth and take a deep breath. Then, louder this time, I repeat: "It's MY fault."
"Care to clarify?"
Honestly, no. I don't. I wipe my face and pull my hair. Why is Cath here? Why do I have to do this? This is so damned personal. For the first time I feel like a suspect being interrogated, having people snoop around in my very private matters. I'm wincing "We clashed somewhat. I tried to talk to him about what he saw at your place earlier."
"So you realized he was royally shocked." Gil states.
"Right. So this missing-case – the guy's into S&M and apparently gay. We find an issue of a weird magazine at his place and this ad he'd circled. I found it and Nick flips the pages, sees the pictures and God! Can you imagine what looks he gave me?"
"No."
"These: ' I always knew gays were but a bunch of sick pervs' looks. Like he believes that is what we're into because all gays do just that. I – I think I blew a gasket." I haven't felt so guilty since Holly was shot. If I had not yelled at Nick like I had, he would have waited, I'm certain.
"That wasn't exactly what we agreed to do, was it, Warrick?"
"I'm not a pervert!" I'm yelling. "I'm sick of hiding, I'm sick of hearing all that bullshit all the time. And there's my best friend telling me he's not willing to investigate some missing perverted gay bastard. That bastard could have been me, right? Or you. I just couldn't take it any longer!" my fist slams into the dashboard and it hurts! Kinda calms me a tad down. Not too much, though. There's definitely not enough air in the car.
The car has stopped at some point of my ranting. Gil grabs my arm.
"Christ's sake, Warrick, get a grip!"
"Gil? Why don't you take Warrick someplace calmer and I drive to the hospital?" I almost jump out of my skin when I hear Cath from behind. I groan my delight about her having been forced to watch my little freakin'.
"No. I wanna go there. Wanna see how he's doin'." I turn the offer down immediately.
"Do you think you can handle it?" Gil gives me a sharp glance.
"Yeah...yeah I can." At least I do hope so. Damn, but I need to calm down. But how? I caused this mess. I have driven Nicky into this situation. I'm drowning in guilt and I certainly will not be able to handle it if Nicky is – in any form – permanently afflicted. I'm not used to being personally involved into a case that deeply. I bury my face in my hands as Gil proceeds to drive us.
The waiting is the worse. They're all huddled in a corner near the vending-machine. Nobody talks. I'm pacing the room like a caged tiger and they stay clear of me. It's better that way. I'm not in the mood to have anybody come across my path.
At least I'm having some kind of clear moment here. All this shit initially happened because of my problem. No, not the being-bi thing. That ain't a problem. Gambling. That's it. If I hadn't had a fallback, Nick would never have seen what he saw at Gil's. No clash, no nothing. OK, I would have continued to live that little lie 'bout me and Gil but things would be fine. From my actual point of view that would have been a small price.
The doctor arrives! Oh sweet baby Jesus, let him be OK. I promise to be a good boy from now on, just let Nick be OK!
...
My knees grow weak with relief: a cracked rib, a heavy dose of drugs but no injuries, no signs of rape, nothing. As soon as he wakes, he'll be as good as new. My hands shake.
"I'll take you home." Gil takes me to the car and drives.
"I don't want to go home. I...I need to let off some steam!" uh-oh. He gives me a looooong stare, then nods and turns left. I find myself in an amusement-park, a fat rubber-rope attached to my ankles. The platform is damn high. 150 feet over ground. It looked high from below, but from up here it's....... awfully scary. I spread my arms and let myself slowly tilt forward. A bit more and a bit further until there is no turning back.
I'm falling, headfirst downward. My stomach somersaults, my heart skips a beat, it feels almost as if it is going to a cardiac arrest.
This takes damn long!
The ground is VERY close now.
God, I hope that rope wasn't too long.
Shouldn't it be stopping me by now?
I feel panic grip me and I almost wet my pants when the rope tightens and pulls me back up. Oh, man!
"Do you feel better now?" Gil's eyes observe me intently and although he never touches me in public I do feel embraced at this moment.
"Different. NOW I do want to go home." I still can't believe he made me jump! "That was really scary, Gil."
"Well, you refused the other option. I needed to so something, didn't I?"
I think he's right. Still, seeing Lady Heather for a session was out of the question for me.