I'll be back to fix my mistakes as usual, but I've gotten any major errors out as far as I know. Happy reading!
.
.
We both had to take the following day off of work, too exhausted and dehydrated to want to do anything. Neither of us got out of bed until after lunch, and even then we only really made it to the couch for the rest of the day. I was quite content to lie in the lounge all afternoon, grateful for the bit of sun that flooded in the windows and warmed the apartment. My boss really hadn't been pleased with me for taking more time off, though.
I tried to ignore the feeling of impending doom I got when I thought about that and focused on what Carlisle was doing. He was sitting on the floor in front of the couch, his back against the base of it as he worked on his laptop. Despite still being in training, he was slowly chipping away at his first paid project. I touched his shoulder, making him jump as he looked up at me. "It looks good," I told him. I leaned down to kiss him, but he was already frowning.
"It looks like shit. I don't know what I'm doing." He allowed the kiss anyway, reaching up to pull me closer to him.
"It's the first thing you've tried to do," I reminded him. I still wasn't really sure what exactly his new job was, but he was definitely more settled. And it was definitely a blessing that he could do it from home when he needed to. At least one of us wasn't in trouble.
.
.
"I need that report tonight, Parker."
My boss hadn't even said good morning to me before making his demand. He unceremoniously dumped a folder onto my desk, and I repressed a groan; I still wasn't feeling a 100% after getting sick, and being landed with tasks above my pay grade really wasn't something I was in favour of. I didn't have the university degree needed to actually collate the research or write the damn thing myself, but that didn't stop anyone landing me with the goddamn proofing. Doing it for Riley when he needed a hand was fine, seeming as he was my friend and he paid me in caffeine, but the rest of them had no right to expect that I do it for them. It didn't stop anyone though. Ass holes.
I knew I wasn't supposed to, but I kept my phone in my pocket instead of shutting it my locker. It was Carlisle's first day back after getting sick as well, and I really wanted to keep a line of contact in case he needed me, though he'd spent all morning telling me he was fine. It was going to be me that needed him judging by how hard my heart was pounding.
I slowly chipped away at the mound of paperwork he'd given me all day, quickly coming to the conclusion that there was no way I was going to be able to finish all of this before I went home. Seeming as I wouldn't be able to eat anyway, I skipped out on lunch and stayed at my desk - anything to be able to get away at 5 o'clock without being yelled at.
It really wasn't to be. By the time the sun started to sink and everyone started to pack their things for the evening, I was barely half way through. My head was throbbing, a sure sign I'd forgotten to drink all day, and I couldn't wait to just go home and take some painkillers. Everything would have to wait until tomorrow. I'd just stood up, slinging my bag onto my back, when Phil appeared at the edge of my desk.
"I take it you're finished, Garrett?" he asked sharply, pointedly looking at the scattered pages across my table top.
I barely held back something snarky. "It's 300 pages, Sir, you can't expect me to-"
"It's 297 pages, and I expect you to do as you're told," he snapped back. "You're not leaving here until that folder is completed and back on my desk. I told you I needed it tonight."
"It's too much," I argued, biting down on the inside of my cheek to try and control my anger.
"You sit back down, or you can kiss your job goodbye. You don't leave until it's done."
"It's going to take me all night!" Panicking a little, I was embarrassingly fighting the urge to cry. People were staring, I was pissed, and my boss wasn't backing down. "You can't do that!"
"Mr Parker, if you walk out that door, I'll be mailing you a formal warning." There was way too much glee in his tone, and I was fuming. I just wanted to go home to my boyfriend and have something to eat.
"I know I've had a lot of time off recently, but-"
He cut me off before I could finish. "This isn't about that. This is about your inability to do you're job."
I waited until he'd gotten out of my face before sitting back down again. I dropped my bag on the floor, listening until the elevator dinged and the chatter of my coworkers faded before I hesitantly explained to Carlisle that I'd be late. Texting him was kind of rude on my behalf, but I knew I'd lose it if I called him.
.
.
The frustration of not being able to work faster was killing me. I was so tired and hungry that I couldn't think straight, and the office was freezing cold now that the heating was switched off. The only light still on in the entire floor hung above my desk, and shadows and curtainless windows were starting to give me the creeps. Just as I was wondering if he would fire me for running out to my car to grab my jacket, the sound of the elevator rising in it's tracks started to become closer. No doubt, my boss had come back to make sure I hadn't run yet. I banged my head against my desk, and it did nothing for my headache.
The doors opened behind me but I pretended not to hear, turning another page as I traced their footsteps approaching me. Their shoes didn't sound as hard-soled and harsh as Phil's usually did. Maybe this was how I died. All my axe-murderer nightmares flashed before my eyes, and I could already see my intestines decorating the office when everyone got in tomorrow, just because I had to stay late. At least I couldn't be landed with the clean up fee, I guess. The hair on the back of my neck was raised and my pulse pounded in my ears, and they were only a few feet away and-
"Gar, are you doing okay?" A warm hand landed on my shoulder. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"You scared the crap out of me. Who let you in here?" I spun my chair around to face him, closing my arms around him and pulling him into my lap. "God, Carlisle."
"The security guard didn't care. Are you okay? What's going on?"
Burying my face in his neck, I pressed kisses against his throat, relishing the warmth of his body against mine. "My boss is trying to drown me in words," I groaned. "He wants me to edit this stupid report before I go home, and…"
He set a bag on the desk in front of me, twisting to tear it open. "I brought you dinner. Do you think that you can eat here if it's just the two of us? You won't have eaten all day?"
"No, I haven't," I admitted slowly. "I love you; you're amazing."
"And you're freezing. Where's your jacket, Gar?" He was starting to sound like my mother, though his tone was more soft than accusatory, and his hands were gentle as they rubbed the tops of my arms.
"It's in my car, I forgot to bring it up with me, and then he wouldn't let me out of here." Locking my arms around his chest, I smiled as he leaned back against me.
"I'll go get it then." He started to push up and away from me, but I held him tighter, not letting him free. His quiet laugh echoed around the otherwise silent office, the happy sound out of place in the oppressive environment.
"No, don't, just stay; I don't need it. I'll be okay once I've eaten something." I kissed him again, my mood lifting as it provoked more laughter. "Thank you, Carlisle. For coming."
"I'm selfish, really, I just didn't want to be at home without you." He pulled the lid off of a cup of soup, releasing the steam and setting a spoon in my hand. "And maybe I was a little worried." The last bit was a lot quieter, careful.
"You couldn't be selfish if you tried." Grinning, I obediently let him feed me a spoonful of it. "You are distracting me though; I have to be able to finish."
"Give me half of what's left." He started splitting the pile of pages in front of us before I could stop him. "You're proofing, right? Just the grammar and referencing?"
"Yeah, but I can't let you do that, Carlisle; you don't work here, and you're not getting paid," I argued. I loathed the task enough, and I was receiving money for doing it; it was ridiculous for him to be offering to do it.
He paused, hesitating. "Do you think it will get you in trouble?" His face fell as he frowned.
"No, I don't think he cares who does it, but I care." Even though I started to reach for the papers that he'd stolen, but he slid them further out of my reach, shaking his head as his lips pressed into a thin line. The ticking of the clock was the only sound in the room as we looked at each other, me sighing and looking away when he wouldn't. "It's not fair."
"Well, I can't have you sitting here until 4AM when you have to work tomorrow. If we do half each, then we'll be out of here in a couple of hours," he pointed out. We'd lived together long enough for me to know when he wasn't about to be reasoned with. The thought of returning here in the morning already made my heart beat a little out of rhythm.
I couldn't see much point in fighting him; he was obviously determined, and I couldn't stomach the thought of being stuck here all night. Theoretically, if I didn't need a university degree, neither did he. And he was a faster reader than me.
Still, he put his hand on top of my stack as I started to pick up my pen, stopping me. "Please have something to eat first, Garrett," he asked softly. "I'll start, but you get something in your stomach before you make yourself unwell. No work for you until after dinner." He kissed my jaw and slowly lifted himself off me, dropping into the chair at the desk across from me.
Carlisle was never demanding with me, but I didn't feel like I had much of a choice in the matter - and it didn't bother me like I thought it would. I kind of liked it while I was feeling so shitty about everything; I needed it right now. I watched him while he began sorting through the pages, highlighter in hand while he held the lid between his teeth. "I need you," I whispered. It wasn't supposed to have come out. I didn't want it to come out. Immediately my face got hot, and I hoped to god he wouldn't turn around and look at me.
He did though. My words made him frown and he glanced over his shoulder at me, setting the lid on the desk. "Are you sure you're okay? That nothing else happened today?"
"Yeah I'm sure. I just...I feel like he wants to embarrass me in front of everyone, and it feels like highschool, and highschool wasn't great for me, and…"
"And I'm not going anywhere, Garrett. Whatever he does to you, it's not going to affect how I see you. I love you." He reached back, squeezing my leg.
I covered his hand with mine, forcing a smile. "I love you too."
.
.
We didn't get out until after 11PM. Carlisle finished his half of the document long before I finished mine - reading so many books really did pay off apparently - and promptly stole the pages from in front of me to get that done too. As much as I hated myself for letting it happen, I couldn't think past the pounding in my head and I wasn't making any progress.
I drove us home, picking up a tub of icecream on the way and falling into bed just before midnight. "Thank you for all this, Carlisle." I wrapped my arms around him under the sheets, brushing my fingers through his hair as he leaned his head against my chest.
He caught my hand, kissing the back of it. "I don't want you to be hurt, Garrett, you've protected me for too long to go through anything similar. I can't let him hurt you." Lacing our fingers together, he squeezed gently.
I sank back into the blankets, finally letting myself relax. The sick feeling in my stomach was finally easing, and despite how awful I had been feeling all afternoon, sleep was actually seeming possible. . Thank god. Tomorrow was another day, and I could start again.
.
.
It was happening again. It was only three days since the last time it had fucking happened. It was almost lunch time, and I'd barely gotten through 30 pages, and I hadn't even touched anything other than the stupid document my boss had emailed me. And I was panicking. My phone vibrated in my pocket and my heart fluttered a little in my chest, before I realised that he couldn't get at me that way and it was just a text. He wasn't going to send me a message when he could yell at me from his office 20 feet away.
Carlisle's name on my phone screen sent a wave of relief through me. 'How's everything going?'
Fighting back a wave of emotion, I swallowed the lump in my throat. 'I can't do this.'
'Call me when you're at lunch.'
I didn't wait for lunch. I abandoned my computer and stalked into the stairwell, dialing him immediately.
"What happened, Gar?" he asked me as he answered. "You okay?"
"I'm never going to finish; I'm going to have to stay late again, and he's fucking with my head. He emailed another file, and I can't get through it before five," I whined at him, already wanting to curl up in bed. "I have too much of my own shit to do to be worrying about his as well. It's going to be the same as Monday, and I can't do this again..."
"He emailed it to you? Send it to me; I can do it."
"You've got your own work, Carlisle, I don't want you to fall behind too." My throat was getting tight, the lump making it difficult to talk without my voice breaking.
"I can do it at home tonight or this weekend or something; you can keep my company - it's a fair trade." His voice was light, but I knew him well enough to be able to hear the worry behind it.
"No, it isn't." I was fighting tears. "He's going to yell at me again."
"He won't, he's not going to yell at you, Gar; send it to me and we can sort it out together." Even over the phone, he was comforting. I wanted him in my arms so fucking bad.
"Carlisle," I groaned again.
"I can do it," he insisted. "Please, I know you're upset and I just want to help you. Please, Garrett."
Footsteps outside the door sent a wave of panic through me and completely broke my resolve. "Okay," I agreed softly. "I'll send it, but I have to go; thank you so much." Quickly shoving my phone into my pocket, I crept back to my desk, cueing up my email account to send him the file. I was so nervous that I wanted to puke; my boss would kill me if he found out I was doing this.
For the rest of the day, I trudged through the rest of my tasks, periodically getting updates from my boyfriend about how far through he'd gotten. At 4:30, his name popped up on my computer screen, another email starting to download. My fucking lifesaver.
.
.
We both got home around the same time, though he was a little more disheveled than I would have liked. He immediately sat himself at the table, starting up his laptop as I pulled ingredients out to make us something to eat. I held back my apology while I cooked, knowing he didn't want to hear it and not wanting to disturb him.
As the smell of our meal filled the kitchen, I watched him intently focus on the screen, his full attention absorbed in it. Even though it was my fault in the first place that he was so busy, I was still fragile enough to need his validation, not coping too well while he was somewhat ignoring me.
Our conversation over dinner was a little strained. My boyfriend was preoccupied and distracted, and I was embarrassed and guilty, and we didn't really know what to say to each other. He went straight back to work once we were done eating, and I forced myself to shower to occupy myself until he was done.
He was still planted at the table a few hours later, resting his head against his hand and his elbow against the table top. "Is everything okay, Gar?" he asked as I hovered uselessly.
"Carlisle, I really feel terrible about this." I rubbed his shoulder as I stood behind him, pressing a kiss against his forehead when he glanced up at me.
He was already sleepy, having downed a coffee only half an hour before to try and keep himself awake long enough to finish his project. "You made dinner and cleaned up, it's fine," he murmured.
"That doesn't make us even," I grumbled.
"But I love you; that makes us even." He smiled as he looked up, and I suddenly caught a glimpse of the same sweet boy I fell in love with before he'd been hurt.
"No it doesn't, I-"
"Garrett, you stuck up for me for months when I was having problems with my boss; I can proof a couple of reports for you." His fingers brushed my wrist as he linked our hands together, kissing the back of my palm.
I fell into the chair next to him with a sigh, frustrated and angry at myself. "I let him beat the shit out of you and sexually assault you." My voice raised without me meaning it to and I raked my fingers through my hair, fighting ripping it out.
He kept hold of me, refusing to let me free. "You stayed home with me when I felt terrible and was having panic attacks. You didn't let anything happen to me; you protected me the best you could."
"Carlisle," I groaned.
"Go to bed, Gar. I'll be in soon."
"I can't leave you out here by yourself," I argued.
"I can sleep in tomorrow if I have to, you can't. Go to bed." Releasing my hand, he patted my arm.
"I'm not leaving you; I won't be able to sleep anyway."
"Fine." He shut the computer down without hesitation. "Let's go to bed then."
"But-"
"I can do it in the morning, let's go." Catching hold of my shirt, he pulled me toward the hallway. "I have to have a shower; get yourself in bed and I'll be there soon, okay?" He shoved me so hard that I fell back onto the mattress, both of us giggling as I tripped.
"Are you sure you have to?" I kept my fingers locked around his wrist, forcing him to lean over me.
"I love you, but I'm not getting up early enough to shower and finish my project. It'll only take a few minutes, and I'll be right back." Ripping his hand out of mine, he held my face in his hands, kissing me quickly. "Ten minutes."
Ten minutes.