Sonnets-Chapter Three
DGDB
R-for language
Summary: Nigel angstily makes his way home. He's in love but refuses to admit it even to himself. Whatever shall we do with poor angsty Nige?
A/N: All right, to the dismay of many of you out there, I am putting one of my own 'Sonnets' into this story. The first is in this chapter. So if you don't like it I really couldn't give a f. This just proves what a soppy romantic git I wish I was…. Argh.
&&
How do I miss thee?
I miss thee like the wind does miss the tree,
How do I love thee?
I love thee like a caged bird loved being free,
What would I do for thee?
I would lie for thee, kill for thee, if you asked me I'd die for thee,
Living without you is not life at all,
It is as if I am a corpse,
Spread out on my pall.
If I cannot be with thee then I shall indeed die,
Though lovers and family at my side may cry.
Life is not living if one cannot share it,
And if I cannot have you than I shall not bear it.
An end of a beginning and a beginning of an end,
If I cannot even call you my friend.
David G.D. Berquist
Sonnet 2
Nigel slumped his way home, trying desperately not to pass out or vomit in the streets. He passed an old, drunk wino, who was pissing on the wall. The stench of the man, who smelt as if he hadn't showered in many millennia, sorely tested Nigel's gag reflex. He covered his nose with his t-shirt and stalked down the filthy sidewalks of downtown Boston. He walked by a bag lady, who was pushing an old wire buggy with a bum wheel. She was muttering incomprehensibly and her cart was filled with everything ranging from trash and old hamburgers, to magazines and moth-eaten clothes.
"Filthy! Rotten! Dirty beasts! You won't get me!" she suddenly proclaimed loudly and triumphantly.
Nigel skirted her and somehow made his way home to his lonely flat with the goldfish and the cupboard of conspiracy theory and hard rock magazines. He threw off his coat and shirt and stumbled into the bathroom, ready for a hot shower and bed. He felt like he'd been up for hours, when in fact he'd only been awake for about a half hour.
He dropped his jeans and boxers on the floor and stepped into the shower, leaning heavily against the wall as the hot water poured down his lean body. He noticed some bruising around his shoulder. Hmm… he thought. Wonder how that got there… He vaguely remembered getting in a fight with some bloke over at the pub about a football game that was on the telly.
After about an hour, Nigel finally reluctantly stepped out of the shower and toweled himself dry. He pulled on his pyjama bottoms and flopped face down on the couch. The rough texture of the sofa scratched his chest and made it itch slightly, but he didn't care. That was the least of his problems right now. At that moment he hated himself. He hated himself for loving someone and being totally unable to tell her or anyone else. Most of all he hated himself for showing her how weak he was. He, Nigel Townsend, loved Jordan Cavanaugh and had no chance in hell of ever telling her or having her love him in return.
Nigel turned on the TV and watched TV for a while, until his brain quieted down enough for him to fall asleep. Garret was gone, Buggles and Lils were hooking up, what's his nose was taking over… What exactly was left when Woody got out of the hospital and he and Jordan galloped off into the sunset and went back to Podunk wherever the hell it was?
The M.E. drifted off to sleep and dreams of being hunted by all those he knew at the morgue.
&&
Meanwhile, Jordan was pacing the living room in her house agitatedly. Nigel had left her in quite a state; she didn't know what was going on with him. He'd never acted this way before.
"Oh hell!" she exclaimed.
She grabbed her coat and car keys and stomped out to the car. Jordan turned the keys in the ignition, back her car up and was on her way to the hospital to check on Woody.
&&
Nigel sighed and rolled over to stare at the ceiling. There were cracks in the ceiling and he followed them around, they looked like veins. He looked down at his own veins, blue in his pale forearm. No one could ever love someone like me. No one.
He'd considered suicide, oh yes. But he was too cowardly. Too afraid that there was nothing beyond life, nothing better to look forward too. So he remained, living a half-life, alone. Life was pointless if there was no one to share it with. No one to laugh with, to cry with, to share your dreams and hopes and fears with.
Woody… Oh the lucky bastard. Stupid wanker didn't know how lucky he was! He was the American dream. The pigskin playing, the prom king, the copper that everyone loved and adored. Especially Jordan.
And Jordan… Oh Jordan! She lit up his life like a Christmas tree at Yuletide. He did love her, almost obsessively. Had done so since the day they met, but the way she had looked at him that morning. Her eyes so… pitying. That's all I can expect from a relationship with Jordan. He thought. Pity. She's only gone out drinking with me because she pities me. Like someone who sees a starving cat and feeds it.
And me? Who am I? He asked himself moodily. Perhaps it was just the effects of the booze he had consumed, but he was feeling depressed. I'm just… Nigel. Big scary, scrawny, underfed, crypt keeper Nigel.
Shaking himself out of his miserable reverie, Nigel stumbled into his bedroom and dressed, not really caring what he was wearing. Before he knew it, he was barreling down the street toward the morgue, in search of answers and reprieve from a job that kept him far to close to Jordan.
&&
Jordan pulled into the hospital parking lot. She got out of her car and hurried into the building, the cold nipping at her nose. Gazing at a map, she followed the path to the ICU. At the nurses station she inquired where Woody had been moved. The homely black nurse directed her to a room and Jordan carefully opened the door, not wanting to wake up Woody if he was asleep.
Woody was there alright, and so was Devon. The couple's hands were clasped tightly together and Devon was looking at him lovingly.
"Uhm sorry. Didn't mean to interrupt-" Jordan mumbled, turning back to the door.
Devon stood up.
"Nonsense! Come, visit with us!" her arch-nemesis said perkily.
Jordan took a step forward. Woody cleared his throat from the bed.
"Jordan. I thought I made it clear-"
"I know. I just wanted to check up on you." Jordan interrupted. "Did the doctors say anything?" she directed her question towards Devon.
The DA smiled angelically.
"Yes they did, Woody will be able to walk in no time! They said the nerves haven't been damaged as badly as they thought."
"Oh. That's good." Jordan said awkwardly.
"Jordan, look-"
"I know Woody."
"That's exactly the problem!" Woody exploded.
Devon and Jordan both stared at him as if he had lobsters crawling out of his ears.
"You never let me do anything, Jordan! It's always about you! You constantly interrupt me and you're so over bearing!" Woody shouted angrily. "If you could just be a little less punk rock…"
Jordan stared at him for a long minute.
"Goodbye, Woody." she said quietly.
She turned on her heel and stalked out of the room, aware that everything was finally over between her and Woody.
&$&
Nigel pulled into his usual parking spot and spotted Dr Macy's car a few spaces over. He frowned. I thought he'd been fired? He thought to himself. Shaking his head, he went into the warm cheeriness of the Boston Crime Lab. Dr Macy was standing in the hall, discussing something with a CSI.
"Nigel," Dr Macy said with surprise. "I thought it was your day off?"
"Hi Dr Macy. I thought you were fired?"
"Fair enough. No, the mayor changed his mind about a few things. Saw some things my way. I've been reinstated. Now, why are you here?" Garret Macy asked curiously.
Nigel sighed and rubbed his neck tiredly.
"You mind if we talk in private?" the taller man asked.
Seeing that something was wrong, Garret motioned for Nigel to step into his office. He put a hand on Nigel's shoulder and steered him inside. All was not at all right with the world.
&&
Jordan wiped away tears from her eyes as she drove down the main road. There was only one person who really understood how she felt, and that was Nigel. She pulled into his apartment complex and made quick business of arriving at his door.
She knocked lightly on the door and pushed the doorbell. There was no sound of movement within, so she knocked again, this time a little harder. Still no answer. She stood there a full five minutes before she gave up and returned to her car. Maybe he was at the Morgue? And if he wasn't, work would help her get over Woody. She drove to work in silence, her mind ticking like the fine movements of a Swiss watch.
&&
Garret Macy stared at the younger man in exasperation. Nigel stared back, his expression hard to read.
"And you think because of that I'm going to accept your resignation? Really Nige. That's ridiculous."
"But Dr Macy-"
"I won't have it! You and Jordan are my best M.E.'s and I won't let you quit just because you can't face your feelings for her. Now, either tell her now and stop lollygagging over it, or spend the rest of your life getting an ulcer like I have. Do I make myself clear Dr Townsend?" Garret growled.
Nigel stared at his feet.
"Yes sir."
"Now are you up to doing some work? I have an autopsy that needs doing and Bug is up to his elbows in a case."
"Yes sir. Right away sir."
He stood up to leave the room but Garret stopped him by putting a hand on his arm.
"It'll be alright Nigel. I promise. She'd never willingly hurt you. Just tell her, if she says no, then she says no. But if she says yes…" he trailed off knowingly.
Nigel graced his superior with a small smile before leaving the room to go into autopsy. Garret watched his top M.E. leave, his shoulders were slumped and his whole body screamed defeat before the actual battle had been fought. There was nothing he could do to help his associate and friend and it was killing him.
"And yet, by Heaven, I think my love as rare. As any she belied with false compare…" Garret murmured quietly.
Today should prove to be an interesting day indeed!
&&
Please please please review! I hope you are enjoying this melodrama!