Title: Pride
By: Read 300300
Nick/Greg
PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own. I don't claim I do. If you want to give them to me, however...
Summary: First in a series of 500 words drabbles on what Catholics term 'the seven deadly sins.' Pride goes before a fall, and Greg can't admit he was wrong. Angst.

Tired… he was so tired that he felt as though he would collapse from exhaustion the second that he sat down, yet he somehow managed to stay awake long enough to drive home safely, just barely noticing the cars that were honking at him when he drifted off at red lights. Even playing his music at levels so high that he was sure the volume would lead to tinnitus did not relieve the deep, inset need for rest.

Trembling from lack of sleep and over-caffeination, he half-stumbled into bed, not even bothering to remove his shoes. Weary as he was, he still could not find the elusive sleep that he so craved- it ran from him, would not allow him to follow to the calm world filled only with the inability to mentally function.

Greg tossed and turned for nearly two hours, frustration nearly reducing him to tears as he did everything in his power to attain a peaceful rest before finally giving up. He moved to the couch, hoping that watching boring soap operas would do the trick- but even the monotony of the substandard, unoriginal story lines couldn't help.

He glanced at the phone briefly before shaking his head softly to rid himself of that notion; he refused to call Nick. There was no way that he could admit that maybe the words he had said in anger were wrong and that he was sorry- that just wasn't something that he could ever do, no matter how much he wanted to do so.

He understood that his argument with Nick was the reason why he hadn't been able to sleep in the past few days, why he was so tired that he'd nearly confused hydrochloric acid with water earlier that night during a routine match process. Ever since Nick had left and moved out, Greg had been so upset that he could barely bring himself to get out of the house and go to work; even now he was thinking that if this didn't stop soon, then he would have to start calling in ill.

Five days, he hazily remembered a study that a friend of his had done at Harvard. Five days and rats die without sleep.

Briefly, he wondered how long it would take a human to die from the same cause, pausing only when he noticed that he had picked up the phone and was about to dial Nick's number. He hung it up, the dial tone seeming even more grating that it usually did.

He refused to give in, refused to admit that he was sorry even if it would finally allow him to begin functioning normally. After all- he had said that the he would be happier without the older man around, and how stupid would it look if he tried to come crawling back merely three days later?

Biting his lip and reaching for the remote, he tried not to think of how he let himself become so attached to one man.