10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Allen

Sunlight peeked through the shutters as Allen blinked his eyes open Saturday morning. He should probably get up and start his day. But it was still too early, and he was still too exhausted. So he just closed his eyes again and hoped Greg wouldn’t feel that he’d shifted slightly in the bed.

He hadn’t really slept much at all the night before, even after a second shower and a wonderful, home-cooked dinner of pot roast and potatoes and quiet cuddling with Greg on the couch as they’d watched an old movie. When they’d finally crawled into bed well after eleven and Greg had wrapped him up in his arms and kissed him good night, Allen had felt good. Settled. Relaxed. It wasn’t until he’d remembered that he’d needed to set his alarm clock—for 7:00 a.m., since he was heading into work on what was normally his day off—that uncertainty had started to cloud his thoughts again.

And that uncertainty had kept him up nearly all night, lying stiffly in bed, trying desperately not to move so he didn’t wake his husband.

Today—Saturday—was the first day Christopher and Owen would be coming to the library to start working on their community service hours. Both boys had apparently wanted to get started right away, saying they needed to show their commitment to making things right and doing better. So, midafternoon yesterday, their parents had called the library and spoken with Annabeth, who had arranged everything. The boys would be in from nine to noon today, and although Annabeth had assured Allen it wasn’t necessary for him to come in on his day off, he’d insisted on being there at that same time.

He hadn’t even gotten a chance to tell Greg yet.

He’d planned to yesterday evening, but when he’d gotten home and gone out into the garage and seen Greg working, something had cracked inside him. He’d needed Greg like he hadn’t in quite some time.

They had what he considered a healthy, active sex life, and they usually made love at least once or twice a week, even now, with both of them well into their fifties. And it was always fulfilling. Renewing. Comforting. He loved the way Greg made him feel—whole and loved, even when he was struggling emotionally, as he had been all week long. And last night had been no different, no less wonderful.

But he wished the feeling had carried over, that the unease he had about the upcoming day hadn’t tarnished the intensity of the love and belonging he’d felt after he and Greg had made love and spent the entire, blissful evening together.

And he also wished he didn’t feel so, so bone-tired.

He took a long, deep breath and opened his eyes again, blinking several times as his vision adjusted to the brightening light of the bedroom. And before he could even react to seeing Beans sitting just at the edge of the bed, the pup’s muzzle resting on the comforter, Beans let out a low growl-whimper-bark and jumped up to put his paws on the bed.

Allen groaned, and behind him, Greg stirred, his arm tightening around Allen’s midsection.

“Ugh, Beans. Go back to bed,” Greg complained. But of course, that just made Beans bark again, louder and more insistently this time.

“I’ll let him out,” Allen said, but when he started to scoot away, Greg’s arm held him.

“Let me, darling,” Greg murmured, pressing a soft kiss to Allen’s back. When Beans barked again, Greg groaned and started to push himself up. “Yeah, yeah, shush, you little stinker. I’m getting up,” he grumbled.

Even though it was somewhat of a lighthearted grumble, Allen felt something shudder inside him. Some deep, dark pang of guilt and shame. He should be the one to do it. He should get up and go downstairs with the dog. After all, Greg was probably tired after having to take care of Allen all night last night and the whole last week, really.

Allen’s chest tightened, and his stomach clenched. Greg probably was really tired, not just from taking care of him, but of taking care of him too. He’d been asking so much of his husband. And now, Greg was thinking he needed to be the one to take care of Beans as well?

Allen shook his head slightly. “No, I can... I mean, I’m already awake and—”

He stopped himself, screwing his eyes shut and sucking in a sharp breath. He shouldn’t argue; arguing was wrong and would only cause more strife and stress, and he’d already caused enough of that, hadn’t he ?

God, he had. He’d caused so much trouble for Greg this whole week. It had been hard and trying, every day some new struggle, and it was all his fault. He was such a burden, and it was too much. He was too much, and he wasn’t really even sure why Greg put up with him.

Greg would be so much better off if he weren’t here.

If he just ended it all.

Ended himself.

Twisted images and thoughts bombarded him. Half-formed plans showing him how easy it would be. How easy it would be to do just that. To just—

“God, what’s wrong with me, Greg?” The words slipped out without him really meaning to say them, and along with them came a rush of feelings—shame right at the forefront of the wave. He quickly turned over and buried his head into his husband’s chest, needing the comfort he knew he’d find there. He felt Greg tense up briefly, but then Greg wrapped both arms around him and kissed his forehead.

“Nothing, darling. There’s nothing—”

Beans barked again, cutting off whatever Greg had been about to say, and Greg let out what sounded like an exasperated sigh. “Beans, bed. Now,” he said with a quiet but firm voice.

The dog whimpered but then must have listened, because Allen heard him trot away, and then there was a soft rustle as though Beans was lying down in his bed in the corner.

Allen shook his head slightly. “I’m sorry, I... I should take him out. He needs to go out,” he mumbled.

“He’ll be okay for another few minutes,” Greg reassured, his tone gentle now. Greg’s lips brushed Allen’s cheek lightly, and his hand rubbed gently along Allen’s back.

The touch didn’t make Allen feel better, however, and he shook his head again. “I-I don’t want to...” He trailed off, not quite sure where he’d been going with his thought. All he knew now was that all the feelings were overwhelming him, and he couldn’t stop them.

Guilt. Shame. Self-loathing. And that much darker and more terrible something that had just had him contemplating how he could end his life.

A sudden pounding at his temples had all the air leaving his lungs.

And somehow, Greg seemed to know. He kissed Allen’s cheek again and kept rubbing his back, and he started to whisper words of reassurance, his voice calm, soothing, loving. “My darling, Allen, you are so loved. I’ve loved you from the beginning, and I’ll be here with you, always. I love you just as you are. You are loved, and you are enough.” There was a pause, and Allen pressed himself up against his husband more as though that might help ease his pain.

“I don’t know why it’s so bad, Greg. Why is it so bad?” He didn’t really expect an answer, since Greg surely didn’t know why either, but the words came anyway, and he heard the desperation in his own voice—raw and deep.

“It’s been a long week. And I know you didn’t sleep well last night. That always exacerbates things. But Allen, please”—Greg’s hand came up to touch Allen’s cheek softly—“please talk to me. Is this... the usual stuff, or something more?”

He could hear the worry in Greg’s voice, and it was warranted. Especially given the thoughts he’d just been having—the ones he’d been trying to stop. But Greg’s concern just made them echo again. He’d be so much better off if you weren’t here. It would be so easy to just end it all...

“It’s more. It’s worse. It’s really bad,” he managed, the words muffled against Greg’s chest. “Please, Greg, I...” He could feel his heart’s irregular rhythm in his chest, the strain each breath was taking, the pain now slicing through his head. Maybe he was having a heart attack. Maybe he’d just have a heart attack and die. Then he’d no longer be a burden, no longer be holding Greg back, no longer be the cause of any stress and pain and... “God, Greg, tell it to stop. Please.”

“Allen?”

He couldn’t speak, but he clung to his husband and fought the words as best he could, and when Greg started telling him again that he was loved, over and over, something inside him finally began to calm again. The thrumming of his heartbeat became steadier, and the weight on his chest lifted just a little. Each breath took less effort.

But it was some time, fifteen or twenty minutes maybe, when the suffocating dread had finally eased enough. Greg’s voice faded into a soft kiss pressed into his hair, Allen let out a shuddering breath and reached up to wipe the tears from his cheeks.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse and low.

Greg answered with another kiss. “We should go to see Dr. Schultz,” Greg said quietly.

“Probably,” Allen agreed, though part of him just really didn’t want to. Dr. Schultz was wonderful, and she did always seem to help him. But he hated that he still needed help after so many years in and out of therapy.

“I know that’s not what you really want to do, darling. But something is different now. I can... I can feel it. And I’m worried about you. And please, please don’t take that the wrong way, because I know that’s a part of it. I worry about you because I love you, and—” Greg’s voice seemed to crack, and Allen felt his husband’s breath shudder as his lips pressed to Allen’s forehead.

He took two deep breaths and nodded. “I-I’ll call her first thing on Monday,” he said. It was probably the right thing to do. In fact, they probably should have already called her to schedule an appointment after everything that had happened the previous week .

Greg’s hand rubbed up his arm gently. “Let me take Beans out, darling? And then we can make breakfast. Maybe we can go to Seattle today, maybe grab lunch at Ivar’s, see that new exhibit at the art museum. Or—”

“Maybe.” Allen’s chest felt tight again as he closed his eyes. “Let me—let me get up with you, though. I... I think I probably shouldn’t be alone right now.” He somehow managed to keep himself from saying anything more, but he could feel Greg tense up, his hand stopping its soothing motion on Allen’s arm. The air around him felt thick and too warm, even though he knew it was cool in the room, and Allen closed his eyes again as he pushed himself up to sit.

Shaky and weak. That was how he felt. Shaky and weak and unsettled.

But when Greg scooted up behind him, wrapped his arms around Allen’s midsection, and placed a light kiss on Allen’s bare shoulder, he let out some long, shuddering breath that somehow released a good amount of the tension that had built up. Then he collapsed back into Greg and allowed his husband’s embrace to soothe him. And it did. It was soothing. Even more this time than earlier.

“I’m... okay now. We should take Beans out.”

“Okay, darling.”

Greg quietly scooted off the bed ahead of Allen and then helped Allen to his feet. And they both got dressed as Beans jumped around barking and whining and generally being impatient. When they finally made it downstairs, Beans had both front paws up on the back door and was whimpering as he scratched at the wood of the doorframe. Greg huffed some reprimand, and the dog lowered himself to the ground and sat until Greg made it over and opened the door .

Allen stopped at the kitchen table and watched, somehow managing a half-smile, as Beans tore out of the house and zoomed around the yard, racing all the way to the back fence before spinning around and racing back. After several laps, he stopped to sniff the ground and find a place to do his business.

Neither Allen nor Greg said anything for a few minutes, but Greg moved back over to where Allen stood, stepped behind him, and slid his arms low around Allen’s waist, pulling Allen back against him. It felt good again, and he let the warmth of his husband’s love wash over him.

He was loved. He wasn’t a burden or too much or not enough. He was exactly as he should be. The words swirled around, repeating in his head as he leaned back more against Greg’s solid chest.

“I love you,” Greg murmured, his lips brushing just below Allen’s ear. “Are you feeling a little better?”

The softness of Greg’s voice, the gentleness of his touch, the warmth of his kiss all made everything just that much better in the moment, and Allen had the fleeting thought that it shouldn’t be so difficult. Everything shouldn’t be so difficult when he had this. He knew he had this—he knew Greg was here with him and for him, always.

So why had he wished earlier that he wasn’t... alive anymore? It wasn’t the first time he’d had these thoughts, not by far, but it was the first time the words had really coalesced and been so clear and coherent and strong. The first time he hadn’t immediately dismissed the notion. The first time he’d actually wished it were true. And he didn’t think he’d ever before gotten to that point—where his brain had started imagining how and what he might do, how easy it might be . . .

What was wrong with him?

He pushed the thoughts away and nodded. “Yes. Yes, you’re... helping a lot right now. Just holding me. ”

Greg chuckled quietly. “I’ll hold you all day if you need it.”

“I have to work today,” Allen finally admitted, and he turned around in Greg’s arms and slid his hands up Greg’s chest to rest on either side of his neck. He didn’t miss the concern in his husband’s expression. He closed his eyes and rested his head against Greg’s shoulder. “Just from nine to noon. I should probably call out, but I can’t. I promised to be there. Christopher and Owen are—”

“Allen, no. No. No, you can’t be serious? Not after—not after what just—” Greg seemed unable to finish his sentence, and Allen’s stomach churned.

Part of him wanted to be angry. But that reaction felt juvenile at best. He took a deep breath and tried to explain himself.

“It’s only three hours, and—”

“No. No. I-I mean...” Greg faltered again, and Allen pushed back slightly to look up at his husband. Greg’s face was pale, and he was shaking his head slowly, his eyes pleading with Allen. “I understand, Allen. I really understand why you want to be there. But I think you’re not really letting yourself admit just how much what those boys did to you hurt.” Greg pulled Allen back up against him and buried his head in Allen’s hair. His warm breath felt soothing and yet stifling at the same time. And Allen’s heart started pounding again.

“I-I know what they—”

“You’re hurting, my love. You had a panic attack just less than an hour ago, and it was worse than I remember you having in a very, very long time. I’m...” Greg seemed to hesitate, and Allen felt tears pricking at the backs of his eyes. “I’m really, really not comfortable with this. Please... please reconsider.”

Allen couldn’t answer right away, and Beans chose that moment to scratch at the door to be let back in anyway. Needing to move, Allen pulled out of Greg’s arms and silently headed over to open the door and let the dog back in. Then he turned back around and watched as Beans circled the kitchen, his nose in the air, sniffing as though he’d caught some very interesting scent. Greg hadn’t moved from his spot, but Allen couldn’t bring himself to meet his husband’s eyes.

“I’m... going,” Allen said finally, after Beans had taken off out of the room and clambered back up the stairs. Allen stared at the ground now, and his resolve felt about as shaky as his hands. Why was he being so stubborn? Greg was probably having the same thoughts.

Yet the words that came from across the room didn’t indicate that. Nor did Greg’s soft tone.

“Okay, okay,” Greg said. Allen closed his eyes again as Greg moved closer. Two strong hands settled on his upper arms. “You’ll let me walk with you? And pick you up?”

There was a plea to his husband’s voice, and Allen swallowed hard as he nodded. “Of course.”

“Okay.” Lips pressed lightly to his forehead. “Can I make you toast and an omelet? We’ve got peppers and spinach and those fresh chives.”

“That sounds good.”

With a nod, Greg moved away from him, over toward the refrigerator to get started making breakfast. After a moment, when Allen had gathered himself enough, he followed, taking his spot next to Greg along the counter.