Disclaimer: I know none of the people in this, I mean no harm by this, I make no money from this, and I really, really wish this had happened but it didn't. Well, as far as I know.

Warnings: Angst, fighting, pretending not to fight so as not to cause a scene… nothing you faithful readers can't handle. Seriously, y'all are becoming angst pros. I should make you guys certificates.

A.N.: I kind of just started writing this and it was flowing… I hope it doesn't seem out of character or anything, but I tried to go with the emotions they would feel at that moment. I know they don't reflect their ultimate feelings for each other the whole time, but they reflect the heat of the moment feelings. I hope y'all will understand.

I'm pretty sure it's sad that this counts as my fastest update. I need to work on that. But hey, here it is! Not that I'm procrastinating studying! Oh no! Not me! Anyway, we're nearing the end. This isn't the last chapter but it's getting closer. I'm sure you guys are waiting on tenterhooks to see who ends up together (hint: it isn't Clifton and Troy).

~PurpleRanger

Chapter Four: Fights, Accusations, Apologies… the whole kit and caboodle.

Sean grabs Norman's arm as Norman attempts to flee in to the crowded – and thus safe – restaurant. "What the fuck was that for?" he asks, bewildered at Norman's outburst. Yeah, he knows he hurt Norm, and badly, but he wasn't prepared for these open hostilities. "What happened to playing nice?"

"Did you miss the part about breaking my heart, Sean? It hurts just to be around you. How the hell am I supposed to play nice?" Norman snaps. It takes all the control he's developed from years of acting to keep himself from tearing up. "But if you want to just sit down, eat dinner, and pretend we never loved each other, fine. Let's fucking eat." Before Sean can stop him, Norman wrenches his arm from the other man's grasp and stalks into the restaurant.

Sean can only follow him. He doesn't want to make a scene in public. That would be bad for them, for the movie, for Mingus… for everyone. He catches up to Norman at the hostess' little podium-thing. Sean distracts himself by wondering what the hell those things are called. They stand in awkward, tense silence for a few minutes until a young woman approaches the… podium. Stand. Desk. Whatever.

"Do you have a reservation?" she asks sweetly.

"Yeah," Sean replies. "I think it's under Flanery." He knows Troy made it under one of their names, and he probably went with Sean's. It's more common, less "Oh, I've heard that name. Are you Norman Reedus?" and thus less conspicuous.

"Ah, yes, with the tab already set to be paid by a third party. Wonderful! Come right this way, sirs." The hostess leads them to their table, which is – that God for small miracles – in the back, separated from most of the other tables by some sort of potted plant. It is an ugly potted plant, Sean can't help but notice.

They sit down silently. The hostess asks for drink orders. Norman shows no sign of talking, so Sean orders them each a Guinness. Might as well start getting back into the role, right? Norman's glare intensifies as the hostess walks off, leaving them to contemplate their menus.

"I can order my own drink." Norman knows he's acting childish, and wishes he could stop, but the rush of power is so addicting. Sean held so much power over Norman when he broke his heart, and now Norman has the power to upset his ex. He feels like a junkie searching for a vein: if he can push just the right buttons, he will have the satisfaction of hurting Sean. He feels sick with himself for acting like this. Okay, now you can kiss that dream of winning him back goodbye, dipshit, he berates himself. But hey, whatever. It's a small price to pay for winning the Douchebag of the Year award, right?

Sean glares right back. "Listen, Norman," he growls through his teeth. "I know I hurt you and I am so sorry. I completely understand if you hate me, which you seem to. But can we just act like civilized people? I ordered your drink because you looked too upset to talk. I never want to hurt you again. Christ," his tone softens, "I would do anything to take back hurting you before. I'm really sorry."

Norman feels his eyes start to water. So much for not crying. "I tried to hate you," he whispers brokenly. "I tried so hard after you left. But I can't. I still love you, Sean. But what did I do wrong? Why wasn't I good enough? Maybe if I know that, I can get over you." He feels pathetic. He's pretty sure that little speech decreased his manliness by about 30 points on the 100 scale. Norman isn't sexist, but he's pretty sure he sounds like a girl.

Sean spent the last few years feeling absolutely terrible for what he did to Norman, but now he feels like complete, utter shit. He's pretty sure he's the worst person in the world. "Nothing," he replies quietly. "You were perfect." He braces himself for the question he knows will follow, the one he can't answer.

"Then why, Sean? If I was perfect, why did you cheat?" This is the question Norman needs to know the answer to. The one he's also a little scared to know the answer to. If there's a reason, it means that Sean doesn't love him anymore. That Sean won't love him anymore. That the one thing he's been wishing for in the back of his mind, the wish he wouldn't even admit to himself, is impossible. He honestly has no idea what he'll do if Sean gives a reason for cheating on him. But then again, if Sean doesn't have a reason, he'll feel betrayed. Great, his brain yells at him. A catch-22! Why can't you be satisfied?

"I…" Sean's searching for words to express something he doesn't understand. "I don't know."

"Really? Because cheating seems to be a rash action for a reason you can't figure out." Norman lashes out in anger, anything to cover the fact he is sobbing on the inside. "If you didn't have a reason, maybe you should have, oh, I don't know, not done it."

"I am sorry." Sean enunciates every word. "I know you want an explanation, but I can't give you one, Normy. It was stupid and petty, but I was angry. I'm sorry."

"Okay, we're back to 'I did it because we fought' and you may remember that I always hated that excuse." Norman tries not to show a response to his old nickname, but it sends another stab of pain through his heart. He misses hearing Sean whisper endearments to him all through the night.

"Do you want me to lie? Because if that's the case, I'll give you another excuse. How many times do you want me to apologize, Norm? Because we're just banging our heads against the wall, here."

Norm opens his mouth to retort, but at that exact moment a waiter appears. Great timing, fuck-face.

"Have you two made up your minds, or would you like some more time?" the young man asks, oblivious to the argument he's interrupting. Sean figures he'll pick something at random to get rid of this guy, and prays Norman will do the same.

"I'll have the fettuccini alfredo," Sean tells the waiter after a cursory glance at the front page of the menu. "What about you, man?" he asks Norman, hoping to speed him up.

Norman glances down and orders the first thing he sees. "I guess I'll have the tomato-basil soup," he says quickly, and hands his menu to the waiter. He thanks all the higher beings he can think of the his acting training allows him to cover the tears in his voice.

The waiter leaves, and Sean and Norman turn back to each other. Norman speaks first, answering the question Sean asked before the waiter arrived. "I don't know, Sean. I guess I'll know how much apologizing is enough when that point comes. But let's try to be practical for a few seconds. How are we planning to survive this film? Everyone expects us to be best friends."

"Is it so hard to act like it?" Sean asks Norman quietly. "We are actors, after all. I will spend all my free time apologizing to you, if you want, Norman. I just want you to be happy. I miss you so much… shit, I love you so much. But I understand if you're still pissed off at me. If you don't want me. Hell, I don't think I'd want me." He stared down at his hands. He hadn't meant to say that much.

"I'm still angry," Norman concedes, reaching across the table to grab Sean's chin and force him to look at him, "but I miss you too. I've been miserable for five years, Sean. You hurt me badly, but I still love you. God only knows why, but I still want you." He holds up the index finger of his free hand as Sean opens his mouth happily. "But I will not – no, scratch that, I cannot – try again unless you give me a reason. I'm sorry to give an ultimatum, but I need to know." He puts down his index finger, waiting for the response.

A few moments of silence pass before they are interrupted by the arrival of their meals. "Here you go," the waiter says cheerfully, handing each their plate. "Since your bill is taken care of, you can just leave when you finish. Be sure to flag me down if you need anything more."

"Can we just eat and talk?" Sean asks Norman hopefully. "I'll give you an answer later, I just… I want to spend some time just talking. I miss that."

"Sure," Norman replies. It bothers him that Sean can't just give him an answer, but he's willing to just talk. He misses their easy conversations just as much as Sean does. What do you want to talk about?"

"Shit, anything. I haven't heard from you in forever. How has life been going? How's Mingus doing?" Sean's heard a lot from his conversations with Helena, but he wants to hear Norman say it, wants to know how Norman feels about it.

The two men talk amiably, but eat quickly. Within ten minutes, their plates are clean.

"We've eaten and talked," Norman says, looking piercingly into Sean's eyes. "Can I have an answer, or do you want to stall more?"

"I know this sounds like stalling, but can we go back to the hotel?" Sean requests. "I don't want to have this conversation in public. Troy would kill us if this got out."

Norman rolls his eyes exasperatedly. He really just wants a straight answer now, but he can't argue with Sean's logic. "Sure, let's grab a cab."

They flag a taxi outside the restaurant and direct the driver to the hotel. Norman looks sneakily at Sean for the whole ride. Sean is staring out the window, probably still trying to come up with his excuse for Norman. Norman wants to reach out and stroke Sean's cheek, go back to how it was before, but he resists. He gave an ultimatum and he's sticking to it. He needs to know.

The cab pulls in to the hotel lot after a seven minute drive. Sean pays the tab – "You've got next one, Norm." – and they go inside. The lobby is deserted, and they cross to the elevators to take one up. Finally, they arrive in Norman's room. Norman sits on the bed while Sean paces back and forth, from window to door.

"Well, Sean? Do you have an answer?"

A.N.: Haha, I'm so cruel! I'm becoming quite the queen on cliffhangers. So… do you want more? Do you simply want to express your joy over this quick update? Do you love me? If you answered yes or no to any of these, you should review! I love you all, the next chapter will be the… last! Well, that's the plan so far…