A Lack of Color
I slur a plea for you to come home
But I know it's too late
I should have given you a reason to stay
given you a reason to stay
April 9, 2004
Honest, Nick loves him. Without a doubt, Nick loves him. Hundreds of times he'd nearly bet his life on a case or a game because he'd been so sure, but Nick is absolutely, positively, completely certain that he loves Greg with all of his heart.
There's no room for doubt. There's nothing to dislike. He has a brilliant smile, a brilliant mind, brilliant eyes, hair, teeth. Greg is as close to perfect as Nick thinks a person can be. He's innocent, almost completely unharmed, carefree. Wonderful. Beautiful. Talented. Skilled. Adorable. There are no words to describe how amazing Nick thinks Greg is.
But still, he let him go. He didn't try to save their relationship, didn't beg Greg to come back or try to open up or anything; he just let the relationship pieces fall where they may. Unfortunately, they didn't fall anywhere he wanted them to. It's really not like Nick didn't care, because he did. But it's… well, he doesn't really have an excuse. Of course, he shouldn't have one anyway, because it shouldn't be just one party's fault when a relationship goes to hell; it should just be something that happens. Nick's a firm believer in all that partner equality stuff, equal weight carried between couples and everything, so he tends to believe that when a relationship goes to hell it's not just one person's fault; if blame has to be placed at all, it's on both of them.
His relationship with Greg, however, is a very different matter. Nick is solely responsible for their break up, even if he wasn't the one who finally put the plan into motion, so to speak.
If Nick had opened up, said even one damn thing about anything… He tells things to his therapist all the time, it's not a problem. And sure, there's probably some deep psychological reason why Nick's been so out of it, so distant, why he'd rather listen to Greg talk about DNA replication for hours than hear himself talk about anything and watch Greg's face crumble because Nick's telling him about something terrible in his past.
He'd much rather listen to Greg being happy than watch him fall apart.
Inside, Nick's kind of a pessimistic person. He tries to be happy, he does. He's over thirty, still alive, still functioning alone in the world. And he's away of how many people don't have a caring family or a roof over their heads or even enough change to buy a gumball, and compared to the cardboard boxes they call home in alleyways, Nick's apartment might as well be a mansion.
So he's not totally and completely pessimistic. He's a romantic at heart, tries to save everyone he can. He sees the bright side of things more often than anybody else on the team does, so it's not as if he's completely pessimistic. He likes life, he's just not always sure why.
The alarm clock on his nightstand blasts loudly, and Nick reaches out to shut it off without a second thought. He hasn't slept for two days. He's thrown himself into work since Greg called it off, trying to spend the least amount of time he can doing nothing. If he's not doing something, the likelihood of his thoughts trailing back to Greg are sky-high.
--
April 14, 2004
"Was it like a… coming out thing?" Warrick asks, after Nick's settled at the kitchen table and Warrick's closed his front door behind him.
Nick hasn't been here for months. The wall colors look different, darker. He has half the mind to ask Warrick if he's painted.
"Still with me?"
"What?"
Warrick looks amused as he leans against the counter, tapping his keys against the top. "You're really out of it right now. When's the last time you slept?"
Nick shakes his head. "I don't know. Have you painted?"
"No." He sits in the chair across from Nick, watching him. Nick keeps staring at the walls. "You sure you're okay? You haven't been the same for a while, man."
"If I'm not going to tell Greg, why would I tell you?"
"Because you're afraid he won't want you after he found out."
"I am not. Don't get all psychological on me, man, I don't need it."
"No, you need Greg. Stop acting like he'll break the second you say something, he's not an ice sculpture. He got out of that lab explosion with two things, scars and a hell of a story. He's not scared to death of the lab, just a little jumpier. He's not going to break if you talk to him about whatever you keep convincing yourself not to tell him." Warrick stands back up and clambers around in his cupboards for a while. "Coffee?"
"Sure."
Warrick doesn't bring up Greg up again, thankfully, but they don't really even talk much at all, not about anything important, at least. When he goes home, he feels like he hasn't slept in years, but he's not tired, not like he should be, at least. The word 'sleep' seems so beautiful in his mind, the word 'bed' even more beautiful, but the rational part of his mind tells him that his bed reminds him of Greg and if he so much as walks into his bedroom, he won't sleep again.
He does it anyway.
--
April 18, 2004
"Hello?"
Nick doesn't say anything, just revels in Greg's groggy voice. At least he's sleeping. Greg doesn't deserve sleeplessness.
"What do you want Nick?"
"I don't…"
"It's two in the afternoon, of course you want something. What?"
"I'm… I'm sorry."
"You couldn't wait to tell me this at work tomorrow night?" Greg is wide awake, now, at least his voice is, and Nick feels terrible about waking him up. Maybe he should hang up, try to sleep. Something, anything.
"About everything. If I could do it all over again, I'd do it right. I know you want to know why some cases hit so hard, why I never said anything you wanted me to. You're just… Too light. You're happy. I don't want to ruin you."
"Ruin me? Nick, there's nothing in your past that could possibly ruin me. I've dealt with death, with grieving. I'm not that special, I'm not treated any different. Nothing you say can make me hate life. Whatever it is…"
There's a long silence, Nick figures a few minutes. Greg's breathing is soft, steady. It almost lulls him to sleep until Greg asks, "What do you want me to say?"
"You don't have to say anything."
"Then why are you calling me?"
Why is he calling? It's not like Nick's going to change overnight, it's not like one phone call is going to change how he feels about telling Greg anything. It should, Nick should feel terrible just by thinking of the letter 'g' but he's still terrified of Greg losing his happiness. He's still terrified that mentioning anything about his life will take away Greg's bounce without a second thought. "I don't know."
"I'm hanging up. I'll see you tomorrow night, Nick."
"No, wait, Greg--"
"Wait for what? For you to decide that you do want to let me in? I've already waited long enough; I don't need to wait around for you to come to the same conclusion."
"I'm sorry."
"You said that."
"I wish I could take this back," Nick says.
"Said that, too."
"I don't know how to fix this." Greg's responding laugh is like nothing Nick's ever heard. "I mean, I do, but... I don't think I can."
"Would you rather I sit in on one of your therapist sessions? I don't have to hear you say it, Nick, I just need to know what's bothering you so much. That's what couples do, they talk to each other. I can't just pretend I know. It doesn't work like that."
"No. No, you shouldn't have to find out like that. It's not... no."
"Nick, it doesn't matter now anyway. We're not a couple, it shouldn't bother you. You don't owe me anything anymore. Don't worry about it."
Realizing it's now or never, Nick grips his phone tighter and says, "I thought maybe it'd help."
There's a lengthy pause on Greg's part, then a whispered, "What?"
"I thought maybe if I didn't open up to you, it'd hurt less when it'd end."
Another lengthy pause, then Greg explodes. "You expected it to end? Then what the fuck were the last eight months to you, a game?"
Suddenly, everything that Nick had sensed that wasn't said on Greg's part over the last eight months comes flowing out. Nick listens patiently, doesn't try to butt in or make excuses for himself, because at this point, it'll only make things worse.
When Greg settles down, when his curses and angered rambling turns into fast breathing, Nick sighs into the phone.
"I'm still really, really sorry."
"Nick… they're just words, do you really think they're going to do anything?" Flashes of the past four years pass through Nick's mind and it finally hits him: he had the perfect person and he ruined it. "I'm going back to bed, Nick. It's late, and I've finally started sleeping normally again. I'll see you at work."
Greg hangs up without as much as a goodbye. Nick doesn't think he's desperate enough to call back. Greg doesn't want him. That's clear. And he's not going to cause either of them any more trouble over this.
It still hurts, he still regrets everything he's done, but he's accepted it. When he falls asleep twenty minutes later, Greg's still on his mind, but in a different way. It's a different regret. This is more painful, because before, he was mid-mistake. Now he's mid-regret.
