Title: A Sense of Defeat
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Carl Hickman/Louis Daniel
Fandom: Crossing Lines
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 467
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Carl Hickman or Louis Daniel, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Louis turned over onto his side, wincing as he tried to find a more comfortable position. It seemed that no matter how he lay, there was always a bruise. He was sure that there wasn't one area of his body that wasn't black and blue.

But those bruises would fade, he told himself with a soft sigh. It was only the inner bruises that would stay, long after the outer ones were gone.

The inner bruises would remain -- and the sense of defeat, the feeling that once again, he hadn't been able to send himself into oblivion, where he'd felt that he belonged ever since the deaths of his child and then his wife. Oblivion was where he should be, as well.

But now, he was starting to wonder if he truly wanted to be there.

He had felt a horrible sense of defeat, of walls closing in on him, even since Etienne's death over a year ago. All during the dissolution of his marriage, when he had felt that Rebecca blamed him for that death, that sense had only gotten stronger.

It had finally come to a head with her death, when he had failed to save her. It had been he who should have died, he kept telling himself -- and even though he was grateful in some ways be alive, he had spent a lot of time wishing that he wasn't.

What, after all, did he have to live for? His work? That really didn't assuage the pain and guilt any more. It had been his work that had brought him to this; his work that he'd thought had killed his son, until he'd discovered differently.

He hadn't realized that he would have someone else to live for -- a man who had always been there for him, even when Louis hadn't expected him to be. He had never thought that he could have a future with Carl, even though at one time, he had wanted one.

Now, he had that chance. A second chance at life and love.

He wanted to grab on to that chance, to hold on to it with all of his strength and never let go. Second chances were rarely granted to anyone, he told himself as he watched Carl sleeping in the chair by his bed. He was lucky to have one.

Taking this second chance that had been offered to him would wash away the guilt, ease the pain, and give him a new reason to carry on.

Louis smiled as he watched Carl, wishing that it was already the next day and they were alone at his flat. They would talk then, and their future would be decided. And if he was lucky, the sense of defeat would be swept away, never to return again.

***