Without My Pride

"I don't need you to do anything for me," Greg said harshly. He hadn't been taking his medicine the last couple of days and maybe that's why he was so agitated. He held his head with his hands, holding his face tightly in an effort to resist the strong urge to kick the couch or throw something against the wall.

He wasn't a violent person.

"Greg," Nick said calmly, making both hands into fists as he took a deep breath. "I'm just trying to help you."

"I'm over it…it was...it was a year ago." It was a lie even to Greg's ears, but some part of him hoped that if he kept saying it, eventually it would become true.

"It's not good to keep everything bottled up inside like this."

"When I want your opinion, I'll give it to you."

"You need help, Greg." Nick gritted through his teeth, trying to keep his patience.

"You're always doing things for me," Greg accused, voice quickly rising. "I don't need you to fix my car. I don't need you to call me at work to check on me. I don't need you to pick up those…pills for me. And I don't need…" He paused, cutting himself off as he looked away from Nick, no longer able to face the other man.

"Say it, Greg. What don't you need?" Nick asked as he forced Greg against the wall, trapping the younger man in between his hands. He could guess what Greg was going to say, but Nick already knew that the younger man didn't mean any of the words. "Say it…" he taunted, hoping to get a rise out of Greg…anything other than him withdrawing again. "Say you don't need me."

"Nick…" Greg turned his head to the side, closing his eyes as he spoke. His voice was disturbingly quiet. "...move your hands."

"Don't do this, Greg." Nick sighed. He moved his hands, backing away as he watched Greg turn away from him. "Don't walk away again."

But his words fell to death ears as Greg didn't turn around. He took his keys off the entertainment centre, not looking back as he moved further out of reach. He slammed the front door of their house, the wooden chimes he'd bought last month tangling with one another as they crashed to the floor.

Nick was surprised they didn't break.

One week later

Greg moaned, reaching to massage his forehead and trying to dissuade the pain as he stared at the pile of evidence in front of him.

He'd been in the lab all day, flogged with semen samples, blood swabs and whatever else he was expected process and all he could think about was an unrecognisable bed, striped sheets, and a man whose face was always conveniently hidden by shadows that were the gaps in Greg's memory.

He couldn't help but feel bothered by the fact that he was still plagued by something that happened so long ago.

The last thing he could remember before it happened was Nick waking up to go to work, the bed dipping as the older man prepared to leave Greg's apartment. Two weeks of disjointed images later and he was staring into Nick's face, heavily drugged and barely able to feel the pinch of an IV in his arm.

Needless to say, Greg was confused to learn that he'd been missing and even more so when he realised he couldn't remember what happened during that time. And although he had been reassured there was no permanent damage from his wounds, the reality of the situation caused him to retreat within himself.

More so than he'd ever done before.

He was taken off the more immediate medications before he even left the hospital. He could remember being incoherent for a few days, glimpses of the faces of his parents and Nick sneaking in through his semi-conscious state. And while he no longer had to take the stronger medication, he was prescribed with an entrée of pills – most of which being most analgesics to ensure the proper functioning of his respiratory and central nervous systems.

It was the only way he was allowed home, or what was formerly Nick's apartment.

And his doctor only weaned him off those a couple of months ago.

"Hey, Sanders."

Greg looked in the direction of the voice calling him. With the ache coming from his forehead becoming more pronounced, Greg found himself somewhat in a daze. His eyes were on but not attentive to the person who was walking towards him. The fringes of panic were beginning to build within him as the person came closer. Instinctually, he pushed himself back, his feet using the floor as an anchor to roll himself away until someone's hand held a firm grip on the back of his chair.

"Greg…"

He blinked, the headache suddenly gone and his vision clear as he peered up at the person in front of him. "…Warrick?"

"What are you doing here?" Warrick asked; uncertainty evident in his features.

"Working," Greg answered, tilting his head toward the evidence that was on his desk. He didn't mean to be so blunt, but he wasn't in the right frame of mind to go into detail.

He tried not to cringe at the wariness in Warrick's eyes. Greg knew what the other man was talking about, the reason why he shouldn't be here. And it had little to do with the fact that he was pulling a double for the second day in a row.

Hearing Warrick sigh, Greg pressed his lips together. There was a reason why he wanted to work, why he wanted to drown himself in something that would take away from agony of not knowing…the agony of not knowing and not remembering what caused him to be so different from the person he once was.

He forced himself to remain still when the older man placed a hand on his shoulder, resisting the urge to lean into the touch and denying himself the small type of comfort he unknowingly needed.

"Does Nick know you're here?"

The older man's voice was soft and Greg wouldn't have heard it if he weren't so close to him. He didn't know if Warrick knew about their fight, wasn't sure if Nick confided in his friend. But it was more likely that Warrick didn't because Greg had a feeling the older man would have dragged him out a long time ago if he did.

He shook his head, silently mouthing no and closing his eyes when Warrick gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Go home, Greg."

Nick wiped at his eyes tiredly as he pulled into the driveway. Greg's car wasn't in sight and he groaned in exasperation. He already tried calling the other man numerous times today and found himself attempting to reach him again, cursing silently when the phone continued to ring.

He hit the top of the steering wheel with the bottom his hand, gritting his teeth when he accidently made the horn go off.

Taking a deep breath, Nick made himself relax, opening the door and removing himself from his truck.

Nick was the kind of person who liked to approach things directly and he knew Greg was purposely avoiding any type of confrontation with him. It had already been a week of not waking up with anyone beside him and he was tired watching Greg go out of his way to distance himself from Nick as much as possible.

He didn't know if he could spend another night sleeping alone in their bed while Greg tossed and turned in the guest room.

But Greg wasn't willing to accept his help and Nick knew better that to try and force it.

The tension was cutting at him and he reached the point where he almost thought of not letting Greg go until they came until some kind of agreement. Because Nick knew if the situation was eating at him, he couldn't imagine how Greg was trying to deal with it.

It wasn't one of his prouder moments, but he'd admit that Greg wasn't the only one to blame. Despite his usual attitude, he was actively avoiding Greg, too. But he considered it to be a different occasion and not one he knew how to handle.

Otherwise, Greg's methods of dealing with his emotional problems would trigger Nick's own frustration, which would most likely cause him to lash out…something the younger man – despite his current behaviour – didn't need.

Ironically, Greg's ways of coping weren't something Nick had given much thought to. It wasn't until they moved in together that Nick actually began to notice how little Greg would speak about his problems, whatever was bothering him, more than content to sweep it under the rug with a smile.

And no matter how much he tried to understand, the idea was something Nick couldn't comprehend.

But right now, Greg needed space and it was all Nick could do at this point.

He paused, his hand steady on the doorknob as a scene replayed in his head, the empty feeling in his chest as he was left alone in the living room. He couldn't even remember what they were fighting about, something stupid that escalated to the situation they were in now.

When Greg first walked out, it hurt more than he ever imagined it would. It wasn't their first argument and he would be a fool to think it was their last, but neither he nor Greg had walked out on the other before.

That's when he realised how much he depended on Greg needing him.

Nick knew Greg was still dealing with what happened when he was kidnapped, the fact that he couldn't correlate the reasoning for his sudden mood swings and reactions to certain things because he didn't remember during those two weeks.

Not to mention today was the fourteenth of May, exactly a year from when Greg woke in the hospital bed, eyes wide and his body automatically struggling against something his mind couldn't remember.

Walking into the bathroom, Nick sighed at the memory of seeing Greg lying there…so lost and confused, looking to Nick for answers the older man wasn't able to give and exposing Nick to a different kind of vulnerability.

One he'd never experienced until an important part of his life was taken.

Nick turned on the faucet. Splashing water on his face, he didn't need to glance in the mirror to know how bad he looked. He opened the drawer below the sink, pulling out a random bottle and hoping it was aspirin. He felt something twist in his stomach as he looked at it, reading Greg's name off the label.

They were Greg's pills…anti-depressants that Greg had been taking for the past couple of months. The other man wasn't initially keen on the idea, and Nick wasn't too taken with it either, but in Greg's case, it helped lessen the younger man's anxiety and – now – less frequent bouts of depression.

He shook the bottle, surprised there were so many pills left. Greg usually took one twice at day and though Nick would pick up refills monthly, he should have been half way through the bottle by now. He narrowed his eyes, panic beginning to take over when noticed that the prescription was refilled a couple of weeks ago.

And then he remembered Greg's recent mood swings, the younger man sleeping in the guest room, why he was so standoffish. For some reason Greg had stopped taken his pills and he was distracting Nick, not wanting the other man to find out.

Nick hastily pulled out his phone, dialling the numbers ingrained in his memory and praying the other man would answer. He sighed in relief when somebody picked up; the sound of the click almost as mitigating as hearing Greg's voice.

But the relief soon became fear when he realised it wasn't Greg who answered.

"Brown."

Greg drove silently on the road, another car speeding past him as the tried to control the shaking of his body. One hand was on the steering wheel firmly, somewhat quelling the tremors as he used his other to wipe the blurriness from his eyes, the wavering of his arm nearly causing Greg to poke himself in the eye.

He sniffed, shuddering when he realised it was beginning to rain. He ignored the button for the air conditioner, his body protesting the cold as he turned the windshield wipers on.

Seeing the maintenance light blinking in his peripheral vision, Greg remembered Nick offering to take his car to get fixed. It was just Nick being Nick, but in the few days before their fight, it only seemed to make Greg feel that much more helpless.

His eyes began to sting when he was reminded of the fact that he would never know why.

Then the engine began to sputter, the car stammering and the dial on the speedometer moving to the left. And even though Greg held his foot on the pedal, the car continued to slow down and he was forced to pull on the side of the road, the car making a pitiful sound before it came to a complete stop.

And that's when he realised he was out of gas.

"He left a few minutes ago."

"I'm leaving now," Nick said hurriedly as he rushed back into his truck, cell phone planted firmly against his ear. "God, Warrick…I didn't even think about it. If I knew-"

"You know how Greg is…"

"I know, but – damn it," Nick yelled as he downshifted, switching lanes and passing the car that cut in front of him with no signal. "Just not now, man," he pleaded softly, more to himself than to the other man. Nick didn't want to think of what Greg would do without his medication, but the thought wasn't comforting in the least.

Nick didn't want a repeat of that night…he didn't want to find Greg by himself in some alley left to die.

Because Greg wasn't alone, anymore.

He had Nick.

"Nick…you still there?"

"Yeah, man…Warrick, I think…" Nick squinted as he saw a small car in the distance, emergency lights blinking as it lay parked on the side of the road. Coming closer, his heart leaped in his chest as he recognised the model and noticed the familiar licence plate. He looked around quickly, making sure no cars were coming towards him as he made a u-turn. "I see his car…his lights are on."

"Is he in there?"

"It's raining too hard to see…I'm pulling up now."

"Call me back on my phone, all right?"

"Yeah, I will," Nick said distractedly, his gaze on the blurred image of the car in front of him. "Thanks." He closed his cell phone, carelessly throwing it on the passenger seat as he turned on his emergency lights.

Pulling up behind the Jetta, he took no time in getting out of the truck. He paid no attention to the water cascading down his body, his jacket and pants quickly becoming soaked and attaching themselves to his skin. "Greg!" he called out, pace increasing when the bottom of his shoes were beginning to stick in the mud and starting to hinder him.

"Greg!" His voice began to waver when he looked into the car, not finding the other man. "Greg, where are you?!"

Nick's heart was pounding and the sound of the pouring rain was sharp in his ears, drowning out the sound of his windshield wipers scraping against the front window.

He made his way to the hood, finally spotting Greg leaning against the other side of the Volkswagen. The younger man's hair was drenched and falling into his face as he hugged himself for warmth, dressed in no more than a t-shirt and jeans.

Nick could see his body shaking from where he stood.

"Greg," Nick whispered, his voice tinted with a desolateness that was hauntingly familiar. He edged around the car, almost tripping as he reached Greg. Taking off his jacket, he fell to knees beside the other man. Nick ignored the fact that it was wet as he put it around Greg, knowing it would be better than nothing at all.

His felt something tear inside of him when Greg looked up, eyes red and a shattered expression on his face.

"I'm sorry," Greg said brokenly, turning away and placing his face in the crook of Nick's neck. "I didn't get it…I didn't get the car fixed." He felt himself deflating, leaning into the embrace as the older man wrapped his arms around him.

"Greg." Nick looked up, blinking the water from his eyes as it streamed down his face and turning his gaze back to Greg. "I don't care about the stupid car. I-"

"You're not supposed to see," Greg interrupted, voice cracking as he took hold of Nick's wet shirt, holding it tightly...afraid if he let go that Nick would disappear. "I don't let anyone see."

"It's okay," Nick tried to soothe, speaking softly into Greg's ear as he slowly rocked their bodies. "It doesn't matter, okay."

The sound of a passing car reached Nick's ears, penetrating the noise of the heavy rainfall. He shivered, noticing his own lack of warmth as he brought the younger man's body even closer to his.

Greg's breath hitched, his frame jerking as Nick brought his hand to cradle the back of his head. "You're not supposed to see me cry," he whispered, the words full of shame and disappointment.

Nick tried to keep his own tears at bay, fingering Greg's curling hair desperately as the rain continued to fall around them.

"I got you."