[FIC] Nocturne 4/12

[sungreen70.livejournal.com]

Well, since I'm on a roll, here's Chapter 4. Thanks all who've read and commented so far! Your feedback is appreciated. As always, this fic is dedicated to caelieth . Beta credit to indybaggins . You ladies rock! 

Title: Nocturne
Author: Sun Green
Pairing: Colin/Ryan
Rating: R
Summary: It's been almost 20 years since Colin found happiness with Ryan. But the demons of his past continue to haunt him. AU in that the wives don't exist - Colin and Ryan are married to each other.
Disclaimer: Please, if I did own them, you think I'd have all this time on my hands to write fics about 'em?

 

Pain...

 

It was the first thing Colin was aware of. Groaning softly, he scrunched more tightly into a fetal position, and his head throbbed with the effort. He groped for the pillow but couldn’t find it. It must have fallen to the floor as he tossed and turned in his sleep. He was too sore and nauseated to reach over the side of the bed. He’d just have to wait for Ryan to come in to retrieve it for him. Of course Ryan would be there any minute. He’d never leave Colin alone when he was feeling this lousy –

 

Ryan!

 

Colin bolted upright as he returned fully to his senses. He reeled dizzily from the motion, and brought a hand up to his forehead as reality came flooding back to him. He wasn’t home in bed with the flu, sick and achy as he felt. He was on a cold, hard cement floor, and it was dark as night, although he remembered hazily that it had been early afternoon when this had begun. This… whatever the hell was going on. Colin struggled to make sense of it, but he was too groggy and in too much pain to think clearly. Instinctively, his right hand reached for his left, grasping the ring finger and tracing the surface of the gold band that encircled it. Ryan… he thought again, desperately, tears flooding his eyes. Help me, Ryan…

 

Blinking hard, he forced himself to take stock of his situation. His head was pounding worse than any migraine, and when he gingerly brought up a hand to touch it, he felt the stickiness of not quite dried blood from a gash at the back of his scalp.

 

Blood pooled around the man’s head and gushed in rapid streams down the slope of the front walk…

 

Colin shuddered violently, and the movement made his head spin all the more.

 

Continuing his inventory, he discovered that his entire body hurt. Running his hands along his limbs and torso, he found numerous sore spots signifying fresh bruises, and a place on his left side that sent a lightning bolt of pain shooting down his spine and tears springing to his eyes again at the touch. Fuck… hurts… He gritted his teeth and waited for the agony to subside.

 

When he could move again, he glanced around slowly. Despite his precautions, his head spun from the motion. Bracing his hands on the floor behind him, he took in his surroundings. He was startled to find that he wasn’t lying at the bottom of the stairs he’d fallen down. In fact, he didn’t even see stairs. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he realized he was in a small room with no windows, or perhaps a large closet. Right by his feet was a closed door. Easing himself forward onto his knees, he reached for the knob. As he expected, it was locked – bolted from the other side, judging from the resistance as he pushed his hand against it.

 

Sitting back on his heels, Colin looked around again. There wasn’t much to see. The floor was bare concrete, cold through the fabric of his jeans. The walls were plain drywall. On the ceiling was a naked light bulb with a chain pull hanging alongside. He was too lightheaded to stand long enough to see if it worked. To his right was a large, low sink, the faucets rusted and obviously unused. A few pipes jutted from another wall, indicating that the room had once contained some other kind of plumbing. Probably a laundry room, he decided. He contemplated the pipes for a moment longer before concluding they held no means of helping him – no way of using them as a weapon when his captor returned.

 

Gavin.

 

Sinking back down on the floor, Colin tried to comprehend the events that had led to his being here. It was hard to think with his head pounding so viciously. The only thing he could remember fully was that incomprehensible moment just before Gavin had pushed him over the edge of the stairs – when he’d looked into his face and seen not the officious production assistant who’d been a thorn in Colin’s side for the last several months, nor the violently angry man who’d abducted him, but someone else entirely – someone Colin could never forget, who continued to haunt him all these years later…

 

The sound of a deadbolt sliding back on the opposite side of the door interrupted Colin’s reverie. He jerked upright as the door opened to reveal Gavin, who entered the small room and closed the door behind him. He reached for the overhead chain and tugged, illuminating the small space with a dim glow. Peering down at Colin, he smiled. “You’re awake.” His voice was pleasant, as though Colin were a houseguest waking up in the spare bedroom. Colin clutched his ring again, eying Gavin apprehensively. When the younger man only looked back at him with that incongruously cheerful smile on his face, Colin spoke.

 

“What are you… why…?” He couldn’t seem to string a sentence together. There was so much he didn’t understand. He doubted he could make sense of it even if he wasn’t in such pain.

 

Gavin gave him another friendly grin, and to Colin’s astonishment dropped down to sit cross-legged on the floor across from him, settling down as if for a long chat. 

 

“You’re probably confused as hell, huh?” he said conversationally. “You have no idea…” He chuckled, shaking his head.

 

“…of what?”

 

Gavin shrugged affably. “Of anything. Who I am... why you’re here… You probably don’t even know what you did, do you?”

 

“What I did…?” Colin couldn’t take it all in. God, his head hurt…

 

“It’s a long story. But don’t worry, we have time.” Gavin’s grin widened as he eyed Colin. “Plenty of time.” He chuckled again. “You know, I don’t even know where to begin, now that I have you here. Maybe I’ll let you decide.” Gavin leaned back against the door and stretched out his legs. He crossed one ankle jauntily over the other, nodding thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s a good idea. Okay, Colin, go ahead. Ask me whatever you want to know.”

 

“Where’s Ryan?”

 

Gavin looked surprised, then shrugged. “That’s not what I meant. But yeah, figures you want to know about him.” He glanced at his watch. “Far as I know, he’s at your house. The meetings would have ended a couple hours ago.”

 

“But he’s okay?” For a moment, the relief of knowing Ryan hadn’t really suffered a heart attack and been rushed to the hospital was the only thing that mattered.

 

Gavin shrugged again. “Sure. Well, he may be a little worried by now.” He smiled mockingly. “So… go on, you have nineteen out of twenty questions left.”

 

Colin shook his aching head. He had no idea where to begin. He still couldn’t even think straight. “What do you want from me?”

 

“I told you. I don’t want anything from you. But you’re going to stay here for a while, until we get some things sorted out.”

 

You’re going to stay here for awhile. Colin considered the words. “Then you’ll let me go?”

“Well, that depends.”

 

“On what?”

 

“On whether you learn your lesson.” The words, and the flat, cold tone in which they were delivered, made Colin shiver. He couldn’t find his voice, and only stared at him blankly, unable to form a coherent thought.

 

Gavin spoke again. “Let me help you out, Colin. A little while ago, you called me by another name. Do you remember?”

 

Colin’s heart sped up in his chest. He scrutinized the other man’s face, trying to make sense of it. It couldn’t be… but… With difficulty, he spoke the name again. “Nick?”

 

Gavin nodded, his eyes boring into Colin’s. “Yes. That was it. Why did you call me that?”

 

“But you… you’re not… you’re…”

 

“He was my father.”

 

Colin felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Again. He sucked in his breath and shook his head, trying to make sense of this.

 

“But you were a baby… you didn’t…”

 

“I didn’t know him?” Gavin leaned forward suddenly, his eyes growing dark with anger. “You’re right, Colin. I didn’t know my father. Because you killed him!”

 

“I killed him?” Colin’s stomach lurched dangerously. “No – Gavin – no, that’s not what happened. I don’t know who told you that, but - ”

 

“Yes you did,” Gavin interrupted. “Maybe you didn’t pull the trigger, but you killed him. You ruined his life. He didn’t have anything left – not for me, and not for my mother. So he took a gun and - ” He broke off, taking a shuddering breath before he continued.   

 

“Do you know what happened to us, Colin? After my father blew his brains out, my mother didn’t just wash her hands of him and get on with her life, the way you did. She loved him, and losing him for good – it destroyed her. You ruined her life, too!”

 

“Gavin, no…” Colin leaned forward, feeling as though he were about to pass out. He wasn’t sure if it was from the pain in his head or from the memories that flooded his brain with every word Gavin hurled at him. “It wasn’t like that. Nick didn’t-”

 

“Don’t say his name!” Gavin’s eyes were wild as he leaned forward to scream the words at Colin. Terrified, Colin drew back. “I don’t ever want to hear you say his name!”

 

Colin swallowed hard, nodded. “Okay.” Both men fell silent. As he’d done in the car, Gavin breathed deeply, appearing to try to compose himself. When he seemed calmer, Colin dared to speak again.

 

“So what now?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice steady. “Are you going to kill me?”

 

Gavin’s smile chilled Colin right down to his aching bones. “That would be the easy way, wouldn’t it? One quick bullet in your brain, and you’re gone.”

 

Colin shuddered again, harder this time.

 

“But that wouldn’t do it,” Gavin continued, his smile fading. “No… that wouldn’t let you see how it feels. It wouldn’t teach you what it’s like, to live your entire life in misery. Like I did. Like my mother did – before she ended it too. Yeah,” he added, seeing Colin’s surprise. His voice rose, shaking with emotion as he continued. “My mother killed herself. She never got over my father – and what you did to him. She was miserable, and so she ended it all. And that’s another death on your hands, Colin!”

 

Colin felt faint. He swallowed hard against the bile rising in his throat, noticing as he did that Gavin looked as though he wasn’t in much better shape. His arms were wrapped around his body, his lips pressed together in a tight line as he breathed raggedly in and out. The harsh breaths were the only sound in the small room. The two men stared at each other, Colin’s eyes wide and frightened, Gavin’s unreadable.

 

Abruptly, Gavin got to his feet. “That’s enough for now,” he said. His composure regained, he gave Colin another cold smile. “You must be tired. I’ll let you get some sleep.” Indicating the cold cellar floor, he added “Hope the bed is comfy. The bathroom is right over there.” He pointed to the laundry sink. “Oh, and by the way -” He reached into his pocket, and Colin recoiled in fear. But Gavin only pulled out a rather crushed granola bar. “Here’s your dinner.” He tossed it at Colin, who instinctively caught it. He stared after Gavin as the younger man slipped out the door and closed it behind him. He could hear the deadbolt sliding back into place on the opposite side with a metallic sound that reminded him of prison doors slamming shut on TV.

 

Sagging back down onto his elbows, the granola bar still clutched in his hand, Colin exhaled deeply. A jumble of thoughts assaulted his befuddled brain, adding to his headache.

 

Nick…

 

No. He couldn’t think about that now. Squeezing his eyes tightly shut, Colin fought against the images that were trying to push their way to his consciousness. He had to focus on the here and now. Still breathing deeply to try to calm himself, he forced himself to concentrate.

 

Remembering the wild look in Gavin’s eyes, his chilling smile and his sudden bursts of rage, Colin’s felt his heart race, thudding so hard he could feel it in his chest. Though he’d seen no sign of the gun during the short time Gavin had spent with him in the small room, he knew it was somewhere. What he didn’t know was whether Gavin intended to use it. The talk of learning lessons and teaching Colin about living his life in misery… Colin began to tremble. He grabbed his ring finger again, and the smooth feel of the gold band steadied him a little.

 

Think, he commanded himself fiercely. You have to get yourself out of this.  

 

But despite the gravity of his situation, Colin couldn’t summon up the strength to formulate any sort of plan. There was only thing his confused and fatigued brain could think of.

 

Ryan…

 

Colin repeated the name in his mind, reaching out with every bit of concentration he could muster. I’m here, Ryan, he called silently. Come and find me. I need you…

 

He imagined Ryan arriving home from his meeting and discovering that he was gone. He pictured him waiting for Colin to return… growing more and more worried. By now, Ryan would have been home for hours, with no idea where Colin was… or whether he was alive.

 

The thought of what his own death would do to Ryan sent tears springing to Colin’s eyes yet again. This time he didn’t fight them. They spilled over onto his cheeks, leaving hot trails of moisture. “Ryan…” he whispered, the name coming out in a sob. “Ryan…” He leaned back against the wall of his prison. Drawing his knees to his chest, he laid his head on them and gave in to a powerful crying jag.

 

Finally, drained of all energy, Colin brushed the wetness from his face with the back of his hand and curled up on the floor with his arms wrapped around himself against the chill. Closing his eyes, he imagined himself in bed at home with Ryan spooned around him. He could almost feel Ryan’s arms encircling him with the warm, loving embrace that protected him from the worst of his nightmares. Bringing up his left hand, he pressed his ring finger to his lips, pretending it was Ryan kissing the gold band the way he so often did. “Ryan,” he murmured one last time, before exhaustion overtook him and he sank once more into oblivion.

 

 

******

 

 

He’d done it.

 

The full realization didn’t hit him until he’d bolted the laundry room door, gone back upstairs and turned the key in the lock securing the basement door – the brand new lock he’d just installed a few days ago. Slipping the keys back into his pocket, Gavin noticed his hands were trembling. He glared at them, but then he smiled, taking a deep, calming breath. There was nothing to be nervous about, he reminded himself. He’d accomplished his goal – at least the first part of it, the hardest part. Now it was just a matter of seeing it through to the end.

 

Going into the kitchen, Gavin opened a cabinet below the sink and took out a scotch bottle. He filled a juice glass and drank deeply. The first swallow of alcohol burned his throat and warmed his stomach, and seemed to steady him. Carrying the glass with him, he returned to the living room and dropped down on the sofa, the worn springs creaking in protest as he leaned back and folded his legs under him. He cast an anxious look towards the basement door, just off the small living room. It was still securely closed, of course. The new deadbolt he’d put on the laundry room door was just as strong as the lock on the upstairs door. No one could get through either of them. And he didn’t hear a peep from downstairs, which meant he wasn’t even trying. Gavin wasn’t really surprised. He was in no condition to try anything, not in the shape he was in now that Gavin had begun dealing with him…

 

He took a quick swallow of his drink and glanced at the photo on the end table beside him. The sight of it filled him with a renewed determination. Reaching for it with his free hand, he picked up the small gold frame and studied the picture. It was a little creased beneath the glass. He’d carried it around with him for years in the pocket of whatever clothes he was wearing. When he’d finally gotten out on his own and earned some money, the frame was the first thing he’d spent it on besides rent and food. The photo still traveled with him everywhere he went – and he’d been a lot of places since he was eighteen. That was when he’d left the last foster home and set out to accomplish what he’d known since he was a kid that he must do. What he’d spent half his life planning and preparing for. And now, finally, he was doing it. He downed the rest of his drink and set the glass down on the table, still clutching the photo.

 

It had taken a few years to track him down. He didn’t have anything to go on but his first name, and the fact that he’d lived somewhere in Vancouver. So Vancouver was the first place Gavin had traveled to. He’d studied public records in the town hall, and old local newspapers in the library. From those, he’d gathered enough information to determine exactly who he was.

 

It had been a shock when he had. Finally the shadowy figure that had haunted Gavin all of his life had a name and a face. A famous face, at that. Gavin couldn’t believe it. His father had died – no, his father had been killed. His mother had been left alone and miserable, her grief coloring Gavin’s childhood until the day she’d downed a handful of the anti-depressants she’d taken for as long as Gavin could remember with a bottle of wine, leaving him to find his way alone. It had taken all of his wits and energy to survive – so much so that there had been times when he’d wondered if his parents hadn’t had the right idea. If he hadn’t had a goal to focus on, he might well have followed their example.

 

Three people’s lives ruined. And meanwhile Colin Mochrie, who had destroyed them all, was rich, famous, and happily in love with Ryan Stiles. The injustice of it only served to fuel Gavin’s resolve – a good thing, since Colin’s fame would make it more difficult to get to him. But now that he’d set out on his journey, Gavin wasn’t about to let anything stop him.

 

Once he’d made his way to Los Angeles, it had been surprisingly easy to land the job as a production assistant for Whose Line. He’d found out what kind of credentials such a position required - not much, as it turned out - and created a resume that matched them. And keeping the job was a cinch. He didn’t do anything more challenging than chase around after execs, doing their bidding and kissing their asses. Especially Dan Patterson’s ass. That was crucial, since staying on Patterson’s good side meant he was granted special privileges - like getting to run errands for the boss man himself instead of the assistant cameramen. It was worth it. Sucking up to Patterson meant that he got to hang out near him, and that meant he got to be around the stars. Like Colin Mochrie.

 

The first time he’d laid eyes on Colin, Gavin had frozen in his tracks, his heart suddenly pounding. He’d imagined this moment for so long, picturing all kinds of different scenarios. Lunging at Colin and grabbing him by the throat. Screaming at him. Taking a gun and calmly, coolly finishing the job right then and there.

 

Instead, all he could do was stand frozen in the wings offstage, trembling with a mix of emotions that he couldn’t put a name to. Gripping the glass water pitcher he’d been holding so tightly he nearly crushed it in his hands, he watched Colin joke with Ryan and Greg Proops. Colin laughed at something Greg said, then turned to Ryan. Gavin had studied Colin closely as he spoke to Ryan, running a hand lightly along the taller man’s arm in an affectionate gesture, with a look in his eyes that Gavin would see there countless more times – every time he looked at Ryan, in fact. It was a look of love, but more than that, it was a look of profound contentment. It told Gavin that Colin was completely satisfied with his life and everything in it. 

 

And that was the biggest injustice of all. That he was so fucking happy, after he’d caused them all such pain. He’d washed his hands of it, and gone on to find the kind of success most people could barely imagine, let alone ever hope to attain. He’d found fame. He’d found love. He clearly had no remorse for anything he’d done.

 

Gavin took one last look at the photo and set it back down on the table with a thunk. Well, he thought, getting up to refill his scotch glass, he’d see to that.