Chapter Text
A knock on the door wrestled Greg away from the edge of a restless dream.
"Son?"
Greg squinted against the bright light intruding into the shadows of his old bedroom. "Yeah?"
"Telephone. It’s Gil."
Struggling to escape the tangle of sheets trapping his lower torso, Greg reached for the cordless, knocking it off its base. With a grunt, he scooted forward and caught the phone, bringing it to his ear.
"Gil?" Silence met his inquiry. A lopsided grin broke free once he figured he'd forgotten to click the phone on.
"Gil?"
"I know it’s late but Warrick insisted I call you before going to bed."
Greg put aside the fact that his lover needed to be told to call. Instead, he hummed happily, allowing Gil’s voice to blanket him with a comforting warmth. "I miss you, Gil."
"Me, too. Your substitute, Jackson, can’t seem to get anything done on time."
Greg listened to the sounds his lover was making. Gil was obviously in bed, no doubt shifting his pile of pillows until they were positioned just right. "Is Warrick there? I want to give him a goodnight kiss."
"He’s not here at the moment. Volunteered to cover the weekend so Nick could go to some concert."
Greg tugged the quilt off the floor and spread it across the bed. "Will you tell him I miss his morning hugs."
"I will tell him. Now, how’s your mother?"
Fighting the tug of Mr. Sandman, he snuggled further under the covers. "She’s nervous about tomorrow. This is her first surgery and with the inconclusive results of her biopsy hanging over her head, she’s really worried about what the doc will find." Greg rubbed a hand over his face. "Actually, we’re all pretty worried."
"The feelings the three of you are experiencing are quite understandable."
Greg looked up and caught sight of the small, framed photo of his mother on his nightstand. "Uh… Gil? Do you think?" He shook his head and looked away from the face that gazed lovingly at him. "Never mind."
"Spit it out, Greg. Do you need me to come up there? I can call and get the next flight out."
Greg chewed on his bottom lip, his eyes focusing on the trio of thin gold bands that circled his left wrist. "Would you do that, Gil? Would you do that for me?"
The older man’s familiar sigh of frustration chastised his doubts. "Look, Greg , your family is my family now. I’ll come if you want me to, but you need to tell me. I won’t make the decision for you."
Greg sat up, the sheets and quilt pooling below his slim waist. Moonlight from the room’s single window chased across the small tattoo hidden in the hollow of his left hip. He traced a finger over the intertwined names of his lovers.
"Greg?" His lover demanded a prompt answer.
Greg glanced once again at the framed photograph of his mother. His words caught on a barely muted sob. "Please… please come, Gil."
"I’m on my way. I’ll be there in time for you to cook me breakfast."
Greg released the breath he was holding. "Thanks, Gil. It’s just so hard right now and if they find…." He couldn’t go on.
"We’ll deal with it, Greg. That’s all we can do."
Greg tightened his grip on the phone. "Hurry, Gil. I need you."
There were new sounds now, those of Gil slamming drawers open and closed could clearly be heard over the phone. "I’m coming, Greg. Close your eyes and lay down. I’ll tell you a story while I get ready."
The tone of Gil's voice gentled, lowered in such a way Greg felt as if he was melting into the mattress. "One hot summer day, a father and son were out in the desert, playing fetch with their dog."
Greg yawned and snuggled once more under the covers. He listened to his lover’s mesmerizing voice for several minutes and when Gil paused to take a breath, he rushed in and whispered, "I love you, Gil."
"I love you too, Greg. Now… the bone was examined closely and pronounced human. Once this fact was established, volunteers were called to…."
Greg closed his eyes and fell asleep, the comforting spell of his lover’s words protecting him from reality’s nightmares.
The end