Darkest Nights

George slept uneasily that night. Late in the morning, Elliot noticed that he shifted often and furrowed his eyebrows, making him look like he was feeling something in between discomfort and pain, and he let out soft, almost inaudible, sounds of fear and pain as he relived the torture he'd been through.

"I'm not going anywhere, doc. I'm here for you and I'm going to protect you," Elliot whispered. He pulled George towards him gently.

"Ungh… Get off, stop…" George moaned. Elliot stroked George's hair gently, trying to ease the fear George was feeling.

"Get off-no, stop! Please, please just stop!" George cried. He started shaking and he coiled and uncoiled his fists; clearly he was trying, but failing, to defend himself in his nightmare.

Elliot barely managed to keep from crying. It was tearing at his heart. Against his volition, he visualized what George was experiencing in his dream. The thought of George being tortured and raped made him sick to his stomach. He'd heard about what George had gone through, but it was still a shock every time he thought about it. George looked so vulnerable; Elliot couldn't even think about it. It was too much.

That made him feel guilty; George had lived through it, yet Elliot was complaining about the mere thought. He was the one who had said they don't get to 'pick the vic'. But despite all he'd ever said… George was different, somehow. Tears formed in his eyes.

He shook his head and sighed, trying to distract himself by waking George up.

George cried out again and shifted. "When are you going to get a break?" Elliot asked sadly. He leaned over to shake George's shoulder. George tensed reflexively at the contact and woke with a sharp intake of air. He immediately tried to hide the motion.

"Elliot," he mumbled awkwardly. He leaned over and wrapped his arms around Elliot's waist firmly, as though Elliot was a life preserver. Elliot pretended not to notice that he was being grabbed so tightly.

"How are you feeling, doc?" Elliot asked quietly. He kissed George's forehead.

"I don't even know anymore," George grumbled.

"Not too surprising, considering," Elliot noted with a frown.

"What's bothering you?" George asked, seeing Elliot's expression.

"The fact that you're hurting. You shouldn't have to feel this way," Elliot said softly.

"I do still have some aches and pains," George muttered.

"There's other ways you're hurting that I'm annoyed at, though. The nightmare you had-"

"You knew I had a nightmare?"

Elliot sighed at the question. George hadn't had a night terror as bad as the one in the hospital, but he still made pained noises depressingly often. George was under the impression that it was a rare occurrence.

"You give physical signs a lot more than I let on," he admitted.

"What do I say when I have the nightmares?" George asked, looking abashed.

"You usually moan and beg for them to stop. Sometimes you, uh, cry my name. There was a time in the hospital when you screamed and you sounded anguished," Elliot informed him.

George looked mortified. "Sorry-"

"Don't apologize; it's not your fault-"

"Sorry you had to see that," George finished anyway.

"Is there anything you don't think of as your fault?" Elliot asked with a frustrated huff. He knew that all victims went through times when they blamed themselves, but George doing it frustrated him. No one deserved what Keyes had done, George least of all. He couldn't think of anyone more innocent and less deserving of pain than George.

"The thoughts aren't going away any time soon," George said grimly.

Elliot nodded and accepted his words, making a note to bring George's self-blame up during their next therapy session. He sighed and held George close.

"I do love you, El," George said softly. "Sorry, I'm just a bit of a wreck right now. Actually, that's an understatement."

"It's understandable that you're struggling right now," Elliot observed. "And it's cute that you called me that," Elliot added with a wry chuckle. "I need a cute pet name for you."

"No, I'm good," George said. A moment passed in silence. Elliot moved so that they were both sitting up.

"George, I need to ask you something. I know you want to forget about last night, but you didn't say much about what you felt. You should probably talk about it before it sinks in. Unless that was all you had on your mind. I don't really know, so if you feel okay with it..."

"You're right; there is more I should- want to- talk about," George said. He rubbed at his chest absently.

"Does your chest hurt?" Elliot asked worriedly.

"Yeah, it's bruised pretty badly," George said. He lifted his shirt and Elliot winced at the sight of the darkened skin. He skimmed his fingers over the bruise and shook his head with a bitter expression. Then he leaned forward and kissed the spot. George's breath hitched and a blush appeared over his skin. He pulled his shirt back down and Elliot moved upwards to kiss him. George gave a timid half-smile.

George broke the kiss and moved to sit between Elliot's legs, resting his head on Elliot's chest and closing his eyes.

"So, anyway," Elliot muttered to restart the conversation.

George sighed and opened his eyes again. "Anyway. I just felt so much panic and helplessness when I went in there. I know it was the best choice, but it still wasn't a good one. I just can't shake the memories and the second I stepped into that room, they all rushed back at once, even worse than before. And as if that wasn't enough, he guessed all my emotions spot on, which was unnerving. It's bad enough that I have to be talked out of hating myself and blaming myself for what happened, but having my attacker guessing at my emotions like they're completely obvious and attacking me mentally with the knowledge…"

Elliot bit his lip to keep from cursing, but didn't succeed. "That bastard. I still can't believe that after all that, he felt the need to do… the only word I can find for it is mind rape. And I don't like anyone messing with you, mentally or physically."

George nodded despondently. "It's just that I still think- no, never mind."

"What?" Elliot pressed.

"I've already said it before, and saying it again will piss you off," George said apprehensively.

"Just say it. If I get mad, it's on your behalf; I'm not going to get mad at you directly," Elliot assured him. He kissed the top of George's head. "I love you too much to get mad at you for a thought."

George took a deep breath. "It still feels like something I brought on myself. Again, I can find no justification of any sort for the feeling..."

"Ah, doc," Elliot sighed. He rubbed George's shoulders reassuringly. "I love you. I'm not mad that you think that- not at you, at least- but I do wish I could show you that it's wrong. I love you."

"Love you too," George murmured.

After a while, George spoke again. "By the way, I've been meaning to ask you something. When the trial ends, can we get out of here for a while?"

"There's too many memories here," Elliot surmised.

"Exactly," George said with a nod. "I need to get away from this to recover. I want to try to finish the trial first, though I don't think I can. But we'll see."

"We definitely can leave after the trial," Elliot said softly. "If it helps you, I'll do it."

George gave the ghost of a smile, but then he gave a deep sigh as his thoughts returned to his attackers.

"Don't think about them right now," Elliot suggested, feeling foolish. Of course George couldn't stop thinking about them when he wanted to, or he'd have no problems.

"It's really hard to stop thinking about it," George stated.

"We need a distraction," Elliot concluded.

"If you have any ideas, I'm all ears," George said grimly.

"Want to get lunch?"

George hesitated; he hadn't been anywhere except the 1-6 and Hendricks's office since he'd been back. "I guess," he finally decided.

"Then let's go," Elliot said. They stood and walked to the bedroom.