Title: Homecoming
Author: 0creativity
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Summary: Nick runs away. Response to the unofficial songfic challenge at TalkCSI from forever ago.

The wheel jerks underneath my hands as the car starts to leave the road and heads into the gravel shoulder. My eyes snap open and I instinctively turn the wheel to the left, bringing the car back onto the road. As my breathing and heart rate both return to normal, I think, not for the first time, about what I’m doing.

Vegas is hundreds of miles behind me, Texas hundreds of miles ahead. I think of Greg, of what he must be going through right now. I just up and left, didn’t really bother to give him an explanation. I just told him I had some stuff back home to take care of and I’d be gone for a few days. He’s probably worried sick, scared that I left him, or that he did something wrong to push me away. I should call him and tell him that everything’s okay, tell him what I’m doing, but the truth is even I don’t know.

I know what I want to do. I want to see my family. I want to tell them that I’ve met someone, that I’m actually happy, that everything in my life is great. I want to tell them that it’s been killing me, keeping this from them, because I wasn’t sure how they’d react. I want to make them understand that loving Greg doesn’t change who I am. I’m still the same son, same brother, same grandson I always have been.

I wanted to tell Greg all of this. I even started to, but I couldn’t. If I get to Texas and chicken out, I don’t want him to be disappointed in me. I don’t want him to live a few days with false promises that soon everything will be okay, that I’ll stop hiding. I don’t want to come home and have to tell him that I wasn’t man enough to go through with it. It’s easier if he never knows what I want to do, because if I fail, he won’t have to deal with the disappointment.

Instead he just has to deal with the pain I inflicted by leaving without giving him a reason. I hope he understands. I hope he knows that I couldn’t ever leave him for good, that this is just for a few days while I try to sort things out. But I know he doesn’t, because I didn’t tell him. I just ran away, leaving him all alone. Wouldn’t it be great if I do work up the nerve to tell my family, then when I get back, Greg doesn’t want anything to do with me because I broke his heart? Maybe I should have thought about that before I left.

Again, I think about calling him, but I’m too tired and I wouldn’t make any sense. I see a small diner up ahead and decide to pull in and get some coffee. There’s a crummy little motel next door that’s looking pretty inviting. More inviting than sleeping in my car, anyway.

I’m still in the desert, and it’s nighttime, so it’s freezing. I don’t have a jacket with me because I didn’t think that far ahead. I just threw some clothes into a suitcase and left. Even though the walk from my car to the diner is short, my ears are freezing and red and raw by the time I get inside.

The waitress is nice. She pours me some coffee and makes small talk. I discover that she’s from Texas too and that our paths have likely crossed before. She used to work in this little pizza parlor that I used to love to go to that was in a town neighboring mine. I ask her what brought her all the way out here. She smiles sadly and tells me that it was circumstance. I nod my head because I understand. I ask her who to see about getting a room in the motel next door and she tells me I’m talking to her.

As I pay her for the coffee and the room, I think that it isn’t merely coincidence that brought us both together tonight. No, it was something more. A sign, maybe, that I’m heading in the right direction. A sign that if I don’t want to end up like her, I’ll go through with what I want to do.

Once I get in my room, I give in and call Greg. The answering machine picks up and I realize he’s probably at work. I leave him a message. I tell him that I’m sorry, that I’ll be back soon, that there’s nothing to worry about. I only hope that he believes me.

It’s cold inside, too. The thin, cheap comforter on the bed does little to keep me warm. The night eats up my body heat and Greg isn’t there to help me stay warm. I can’t sleep because I’m trying to psych myself up for tomorrow, for the conversation I know I need to have. I rehearse it over and over again inside my head, until it’s absolutely perfect. I can do this, I tell myself. My brain answers back, telling me that of course I can. Not because I want to, but because I need to. My future depends on it.

When I get to my parents’ house, I freak out. I can’t tell them. I can’t bear to see the disappointment on their faces. I spend the first night telling them everything’s okay and that I just thought I’d come for a visit. I think they can tell I’m lying. I’ve come home, but I’ve still got a long way to go.

On the second day, I decide that they deserve the truth. I tell them that I’m getting older and that I don’t have time to mess around anymore. I tell them that I just need to know that my life means something to someone, and that for the first time, I think I might have found that. I tell them that every minute I’m with Greg is a blessing. They just sit there, stunned. One by one, they just get up and leave the room, not bothering to say anything to me. I’ve come home, but I’ve never felt so alone.

Greg never called me back. I don’t know if he’s mad at me or if he knows that I wouldn’t talk if he did call me or if he just doesn’t believe me. Either way, he hasn’t called me back, and it scares me. I keep trying to call him, but the answering machine picks up every time. I don’t bother leaving a message. If he’s there, he knows it’s me.

I don’t know where I’m going. I’m just driving. I just need to stop thinking, to get my mind off things. I just drive and drive and drive until my days are measured by miles of highway. Imagine my surprise when I end up at that same roadside diner and motel.

I don’t bother making small talk tonight. I just ask for a room and she obliges. I collapse on the bed, finally letting my emotions get the better of me. I pick up an old bible off the bedside table. It’s been a long time since I’ve prayed to God, but I figure it won’t hurt. I fall to my knees and cry my heart out. I tell Him that I don’t know what to do. I’m lost and hurting and scared and I just don’t know what to do anymore. After what seems like hours, I crawl back into bed and hug the extra pillow close to me. I pretend that it’s Greg, that he’s there with me, comforting me, telling me that everything’s going to be okay. I never hurt when I’m with Greg and suddenly realization dawns. I’m in charge of my life. Not my parents or grandparents or brother or sister. It doesn’t matter what they think. I decide where my life goes and what it becomes, and I’m not about to let it go back to being what it was before I met Greg.

I knock on the front door and several minutes later, Greg answers. His hair is a mess and his eyes are red and puffy and I know he’s been crying. I know he hasn’t slept much since I left. I want to hug him, to kiss away his tears. I want to make him understand, but I know it will only confuse him more if I don’t explain first. He asks me what I’m doing here. My reply is simple.

“I’ve come home.”

~

Lyrics:

Homecoming (Walter's Song)
words and music by Vienna Teng

it's desert ice outside but this diner has thawed my ears
hot coffee in a clean white mug and a smile when the waitress hears
that I was born in North Carolina
not an hour from her home town
and we used to play the same pizza parlor pinball

and there's a glance in time suspended as I wonder how it is
we've been swept up just by circumstance to where the coyote lives
where my days are strips of highway
and she's wiping tables down
holding on and still waiting for that windfall

but I've come home
even though I've never had so far to go
I've come home

I pay the check and leave the change from a crumpled ten-dollar bill
head across the street where VACANCY is burning in neon still
well the night eats up my body heat
and there's no sign of another
and I find myself slipping down into that black

but things are good I've got a lot of followers of my faith
I've got a whole congregation living in my head these days
and I'm preaching from the pulpit
to cries of “Amen brother”
closing my eyes to feel the warmth come back

and I've come home
even though I swear I've never been so alone
I've come home

I just want to be living as I'm dying
just like everybody here
just want to know my little flicker of time is worthwhile
and I don't know where I'm driving to
but I know I'm getting old
and there's a blessing in every moment every mile

thin white terry bars of soap and a couple little plastic cups
old Gideons Bible in the nightstand drawer saying “Go on open up”
well I'll kneel down on the carpet here
though I never was sure of God
think tonight I'll give Him the benefit of the doubt

I switch off the lights and imagine that waitress outlined in the bed
her hair falling all around me
I smile and shake my head
well we all write our own endings
and we all have our own scars
but tonight I think I see what it's all about

because I've come home
I've come home