Cutting My Losses

Warrick walked into his apartment and dropped his keys on the table next to the door. He had the entire day and night off and couldn't drudge up the desire to do a thing. He wasn't exactly tired and he didn't feel like eating so he flopped down on the couch and turned on the television only to turn it off minutes later. There was nothing on that could hold his attention. He then picked up the book he had started reading a month ago, but the words blurred together and his mind drifted. He sat in front of the keyboard that never failed him and touched a few ivory keys, but he soon found that he just wasn't in the mood. Calling Greg was no longer an option. And he couldn't call Nick. By the way his friend was acting after shift, he was definitely up to something, and Warrick just didn't want to know what that was. He could call Cath, but she already thought that something was wrong and Warrick really didn't feel like going through an interrogation. Grams was always an option, but she'd know right away. He didn't need to be mothered right now. He needed Greg.

But Greg didn't need him or want him, and Warrick would just have to get used to that. Greg hadn't made it official yet, but it was only a matter of time, and Warrick sure as hell wasn't going to let it catch him by surprise. He turned off the keyboard and headed to his bedroom, stripping down to his boxers before getting into bed. Maybe he could fall into a dreamless asleep. He turned his face into a pillow and was surprised when he could still smell Greg's cologne, the cologne he only wore when he was going out or coming over to spend the night at Warrick's. Warrick groaned into the pillow. He couldn't escape Greg even if he tried. He sure as hell couldn't get him out of his head. And it certainly didn't help that Greg had left his shit all over the apartment. There were paperback mystery novels on the kitchen table, expensive coffee in the refrigerator, heavy metal CDs lying on top of his stereo. There was hair gel on his bathroom counter. There was a retainer case lying on his nightstand. A few pieces of Greg's clothing were even taking up space in his bottom drawer.

Warrick didn't even want to think about what it would be like once Greg came back, if he came back. He'd have to see him every single day, all the while knowing that Greg was no longer his. He'd have to watch him flirt with everyone in the lab without the comforting knowledge that they'd be in bed together later that night. He'd have to have conversations with Greg that weren't laced with innuendo or teasing. Maybe he should just throw in the towel and try to get a transfer now. Warrick shook his head.

He wouldn't do that. Vegas was his home. The next months would be hard, but he'd get over it. It's not like they were together that long or anything. Just a few measly months. And this was all for the best anyway. He and Greg weren't compatible. Warrick chuckled at the thought. That was a complete understatement. He and Greg were so different he was surprised it lasted this long. It was bound to end sooner or later though, and it might as well be sooner. Greg would find someone else, someone younger, and more fun, energetic, someone that wasn't as inept at communicating as Warrick could sometimes be. And Warrick...well, Warrick was swearing off of relationships for awhile, a long while. He'd brush himself off and continue on as he always had. No big deal. He'd get over it. No problem. He'd just stop thinking about Greg. Easy to do. Greg and he were a thing of the past. They were just coworkers. Nothing else.

Warrick heard the first few bars of "Sex Bomb" by Tom Jones and leaped off the bed, running toward the living room. He reached his cell just as Mr. Jones was calling him a sex bomb, sex bomb. Greg had this habit of stealing his phone every week or so and changing the ring tone for him to the most embarrassing song he could think of. Last week was "Johnny, are You Queer?" Warrick usually kept the ring tone until Greg changed it. He knew Greg got some perverse pleasure out of it, and Greg swore that he picked up the phone faster whenever Greg called because he didn't want everyone to know he had whatever song as a ring tone. Of course, Warrick never admitted to the fact that the reason he picked up his phone so fast was because he was just excited to talk to his boyfriend. Soon to be ex-boyfriend.

Warrick picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Warrick, hey. It's Greg." He already knew who it was, so he waited for Greg to continue. "Um...is...how are things? Is everything going alright?" Greg was asking questions, but Warrick was sure Greg already knew answers.

"I'm fine, Greg." Warrick settled down on the sofa in the living room. He knew that this was the end of the relationship. It was written in the cards, but there was a very small, very stupid part of him that kept hoping...just hoping that things wouldn’t go like he knew they would.

"Great. That's great." A few moments of silence passed before Greg continued. "I'm in Pittsburgh. Uh, you remember my friend, Justin, right? I'm visiting him right now." The name did sound familiar. Warrick remembered Greg mentioning him once or twice.

"Is that right?"

"Yeah..." Warrick knew that he was making Greg nervous, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

"Warrick, listen...I know I left without saying anything, but I just needed to, you know, clear my head a little. Put some things into perspective."

"Did it work? Are things in perspective now?" The question came out sarcastic and hurtful. He heard Greg take a deep breath before continuing.

"Yeah, I think they are. I think that me coming out here was...I don't know. What we both needed, I guess." Warrick could hear the imminent goodbye. "But Nick called me, and I think that maybe you misunderstood a few things."

Now Warrick knew what Nick was up to after their shift. "Enlighten me, Greg. What exactly did I misunderstand? You needed a break and you left. It seems pretty simple to me."

"Come on, Warrick. Don't even act like I was the only one that needed a break,” Greg challenged. “For the past few weeks you've gone out of your way to spend time with everyone but me. You hang out with Nick, you make time for Catherine and Lindsey, hell, you even volunteered to work those doubles. How do you think that makes me feel, Warrick?"

One of the things that made Warrick Brown a great poker and chess player was his ability to read people, his ability to think two steps ahead, always knowing what someone will say or do. But Greg had never been transparent and those last words definitely weren't anticipated. He struggled for a moment to come up with a response and when he did, his voice was tight and controlled. "I volunteered to work those doubles because it's my job and it gave Catherine a chance to spend time with her daughter. I hang out with Nick and Catherine because they're my friends. And I spend time with you because..." The fact that he even had to say any of it just pissed him off. "Goddamnit Greg, I shouldn't have to explain myself to you!" His voice was loud and he took a calming breath. He didn't want to argue with Greg. When he spoke again, his voice was a lot more calm. "You took a break, Greg, because it was what you needed. Don't assume you know what I need."

There were a few more moments of silence before Greg spoke. "Nick told me that..." Warrick listened as Greg took a deep, shaky breath, "...that you said it was over between us. Why would you say such a thing to him?"

It was official. Warrick was going to have to kill his best friend. "Nick needs to mind his own fucking business."

"Don't be mad at Nick. He was just being a good friend. He called me because you obviously weren't going to. It was like you didn’t even care that I was gone."

"There you go assuming again." Warrick mutterd it under his breath, not meaning for it to be heard, but he raised his voice so the next part was. "You left without telling me, Greg. Bottom line. If that doesn't say it's over, I don't know what does."

"I told you why I left!" Greg's voice broke.

"I don't give a fuck why you left, Greg!" Warrick didn't mean to yell, but for having such a high IQ, Greg just didn't get it. "You didn't tell me. You left without saying a goddamn word."

"Because I thought that's what you wanted. What we needed." Warrick had to stop himself from laughing at that. Like he ever wanted Greg to leave.

"Bullshit. You ran away. You left because things got too hard for you. Because you weren't man enough to stay here and deal with us or the nightmares. Or the explosion or whatever the fuck else you're going through. Frankly, I don't know what the fuck's wrong with you right now. You never tell me a goddamn thing."

"I didn't say anything because I can handle it myself. I'm a grown man, Warrick. I don't need you babysitting me."

"Do you really believe the fucking bullshit coming out of your mouth? You obviously can't handle it yourself, and you know what? No one expects you to. You were in an explosion. You were seriously injured. That's a big deal. Would you just fucking own up to it? You shake in the lab. You have nightmares almost every night." Warrick paused as a thought occured to him. "How have you been sleeping up there, Greg? No one’s there to calm you down after a nightmare, to make sure you fall back asleep. Or does Justin do that for you?"

"Warrick, please don't do this. I didn't..." Greg took yet another deep, steadying breath. "I didn't call to fight with you."

"Then why did you call, Greg?"

"Because I miss you, and I don't want to lose you.” The emotion in his voice was evident and Warrick did his best to ignore it. “I fucked up, okay? I know that. But that doesn't mean that you have to just go and...end everything like that."

"You ended everything when you left." You don’t leave. It's the one thing you’re not supposed to do. Warrick had more than enough people in his life that left when things got hard.

"Stop saying that!" Ignoring Greg’s tone was becoming more and more difficult. "You can't believe that, Warrick. You never really thought that I'd just up and leave you, right? I just...I didn’t think before I acted."

"No, you didn't." Warrick was ready for this conversation to be over. He didn't like hearing Greg sound so hurt.

Greg started talking quickly, desperately trying to keep him on the line. "Warrick, I love you. I love you so much, and I'm so sorry that I hurt you. I--I wasn't thinking about everything. You're right, I haven't been honest with you or with myself, but I want to fix it. I'll do whatever you want. I'll get on the next plane home and we can work all of this out, okay?"

"It's a little late for all that, Greg." What's done was done. It was time to cut his losses and move on.

"No, it's not! It's not too late. I swear, Warrick, I'll get on a plane right now and come home to you. We can fix this. No more excuses. No more bullshit. I’ll do whatever it takes to make this up to you, I promise.”

"Greg, Greg." Warrick stopped Greg from going on. "This is for the best. We both knew this would happen sooner or later." Warrick didn't realize his voice had dipped into that comforting tone he used whenever Greg awoke from a nightmare. "We both knew it had to end eventually, right? We're completely different people. It's time for both of us to move on. It's for the best, it really is. I'll see around, Greg. I have to go. Bye." Warrick closed his phone before Greg could change his mind. Because truthfully, he was damn close to telling Greg to just forget about it all and come home. Real damn close.

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I don't know if any of y'all are still sticking with this, if you are, thanks for reading. I'm kind of a slow updater and I cross-post a lot, so sometimes I forget to update at certain sites. The one place that's always kept up-to-date is my site, abovemorality.org. I'll try to do a better job of keeping up with my updates and responding to everyone's comments. Thanks to all of you that have commented so far.