Fic two for the ficalbum challenge. I don't own the characters or the lyrics, much as I'd love to. Beta'd by delgaserasca, thank you.
Black and White People
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He's pushed down so hard you can hear him start to sink
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You eye him discreetly as you push buttons on the mass spectrometer; he's engrossed in his work, eye to the microscope. He looks tense, more so than usual; he sits rigidly, shoulders stiff, gloved hands pressing against the counter. He takes deep breaths; you wonder if he's composing himself or trying to stay calm.
It can't be easy for him. You know it's not; you were there – that night by the river, the night in your apartment, that other night in his. Those weeks he couldn't go home and he slept on your sofa. It's only been five years, but to him it seems like a lifetime. You feel sick when you see the skyline but you're getting better; he doesn't tremble with repressed anger anymore.
You hear exhaustion in his voice when he calls your name; his eyes are closing slowly. You turn off the light over the microscope, and guide him out of the lab. You walk him to his office, slide off his lab coat and hand him his suit jacket, all the while lecturing him. You send him home; you calculate quickly, and you realise that the last time he got any decent sleep was over ten days ago.
He's a tortured man, you know, he knows; you want desperately for there to be something you can do before you lose him altogether.