Chapter Text
"Greg?"
This would happen to her. It made perfect sense. She finally works up enough courage to acknowledge her feelings and actually share them with her boyfriend only to have him black out drunk. But not before telling her she was "cool". Cool? Really? That was all she got?
"Greg? Hey? Hey, Greg!" She continued to poke and shake him but it looked like he was out for the night.
Perfect.
"Ah, yes. The classic Serrano pass out," concluded White Josh, appearing from around the bar. He offered Rebecca a sympathetic smile.
"I'll get him," he assured, patting Greg on the shoulder.
"Yeah, I'll go with you,” Rebecca tiredly replied.
She looked so utterly deflated White Josh couldn’t help but feel for her.
"You will not,” he declared, sternly. “You stay here. You don't want to see what's on the other side of this. War movie....,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.
When his attempt at humor fell flat, he shifted gears and offered Rebecca another sympathetic glance. “I'm sorry he blew it. I know that he cares but...that's Greg. It's who he is."
Rebecca contemplated this a moment. To be perfectly honest, yeah, Greg kind of blew it tonight. Nothing about this night had gone the way she had planned. Least of all his reaction to her putting her feelings for him out there in the open. She made herself vulnerable, something she hadn't done in who knew how long. And all she got back was a lukewarm, casual response in return.
But if she stepped back to look at the bigger picture, she knew in her heart that this wasn't Greg.
Well, actually this was exactly Greg.
Greg had baggage. Lots and lots of emotional baggage. But who was she to judge? She certainly carried around her own set of emotional luggage.
Greg has seen her at some of her lowest points and still wants to be with her. At least she thought he did.....no, of course he did. This night just had to be a fluke. A bump in the road. It just had to be. Instead of getting witty, disarming Greg who shows up for her exactly when she needs him, she got self-sabotaging, bitter Greg who thinks he'll always be playing 2nd to Josh.
But they had been through too much for it to end like this.
"Uhm. No, it's okay. I'll come with you and take him home. He just needs to sleep it off."
The two managed to finagle Greg into the back seat of his car and in to Rebecca's apartment with relative ease.
"You sure you're okay?" White Josh asked for the sixth time since Rebecca insisted on coming with him. "I really don't mind staying with him. You shouldn't have to deal with this."
Greg groaned from the couch in his alcohol induced stupor before mumbling a couple incoherent sentences.
This was her last chance to change her mind and she was seriously contemplating taking him up on the offer. She could just let White Josh take Greg back to his place and avoid all the awkwardness that was sure to be there in the morning. That would be the easiest thing to do and a month ago she definitely would have taken that route. But she was getting so tired of always running from relationships, running from happiness. And despite all his faults, she was finally able to admit to herself that it was indeed Greg Serrano who made her happy.
"I'm sure. He'll be fine." She assured, waving is Greg's general direction. "I'll put a trash can by the couch in case he gets sick."
White Josh still didn't look convinced but nodded reluctantly anyway. "Alright. You have my cell if you need me?"
"Yes, yes" she chided, leading him towards the front door. "Now go back to the party. I'm sure Daryl would love one last dance," she offered with a small smile.
They exchanged a quick hug before Rebecca shut her front door, leaning back against the cool wood.
She let out a deep sigh, contemplating her next move. She had definitely planned on spending the night with Greg tonight, but not quite like this.
He might be dying.
Literally dying.
At least that's what Greg felt like as he started to regain consciousness. His head felt like it was trying to split itself in two and his stomach was performing acrobatics.
Slowly but surely he started to take in his surroundings. His face was buried in a soft pillow with a familiar scent and someone had placed a blanket over him at one point. It was still dark outside and whosever house he was in was still and quiet, indicating that it must still be night time.
For the sake of his head and stomach, Greg shifted ever so slowly to get a better look around.
Between his blurry vision and the lack of light he couldn’t make out much, but there was no missing the giant fish hanging on the wall in front of him.
“A fish?” he mumble, still trying to process everything. “Who would hang a giant……oh shit.”
And then it all came rushing back to him. The wedding reception, seeing Rebecca and Josh together, getting drunk, calling her cool? He called her cool? What the hell.
“I love you, Rebecca,” he whispered softly. “I should have said I love you.”
He knew he had acted like a jerk and part of him knew he was pushing her away. As soon as a relationship started feeling serious, he found a reason to end it. But with Rebecca, he had this added fear that he was just a placeholder for her and she would eventually leave him for Josh.
When they finally got together, he thought they could have a no-strings attached relationship and for a while it seemed to work. They got along great and the sex was even better. But the longer it went on and the more time they spent together, the harder it was to deny the feelings he has had for her since the first day she walked in to Home Base.
But as his feelings grew, so did his fear of eventually losing her. And in true Serrano fashion, he may have done just that.
Without thinking, he shot up from the couch and lunged for the stairs. Despite the strong protest his body was making, he powered through the nausea and pain as he stumbled up the stairs towards Rebecca’s bedroom.
“Ow! God, shit!”
“Greg?”
Rebecca turned on her bedside light revealing a disheveled Greg Serrano sitting dejectedly in front of her bedroom door.
“Doors are hard...,” he mumbled to himself, rubbing his forehead.
“Greg, what are you doing? Go back to sleep,” she scolded, helping him off the floor.
“No, I can’t go to sleep. I have to tell you something,” he insisted, holding her shoulders for support. She gently started leading him out of her room and towards the stairs.
“You’re still drunk, Greg. Just go back downstairs and we’ll talk in the morning.”
“No, I have to tell you now before it’s too late!”
“Before what’s too late? It’s three in the morning. Please, just come back downstairs,” she urged, tugging on his arm.
“Rebecca, I love you.” Her breath caught in her throat.
“Greg…”
“Please, just hear me out,” he pleaded. “I know I screwed up. I majorly screwed up tonight, but-”
“Greg,” she shushed. “Greg, please stop talking. You’re still out of it and you’re just going to say things you don’t mean.”
“No! Please,” he begged. “I know exactly what I’m saying. I’m saying I love you!”
Rebecca stared back at him with a pained, conflicted expression. These were exactly the words she wanted to hear tonight and she wanted more than anything to believe him. But his breath still smelled like whiskey and his eyes were tired and bloodshot. Despite his insisting that he knew what he was doing, she couldn’t take that chance. She had already been let down once tonight.
“I’ll tell you what,” she replied slowly. “Come to bed and we’ll talk in the morning.”
Greg’s face fell. “But…”
“Please, Greg. Please just come to bed and you can tell me again in the morning. Okay?”
The wounded look on Greg’s face didn’t wain but this time he allowed her to lead him to the bed.