Title: Topography
By: kennedy
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG
Summary: Nick cannot sleep at night.

***

When I can't sleep at night, which has been a lot lately considering everything that's happened, I find myself staring at Greg while he manages to sleep effortlessly. I feel slightly jealous at his ability to do so, but I am also grateful that he is there in the dark and I have him to hang onto in order to convince myself that I am still alive. Because sometimes in those early hours of the morning you can believe anything as memories and fear threaten to swamp you.

And in those moments I focus on Greg's back. He is living proof that a potential tragedy can be overcome, that you can live through it and come out stronger. The terrain of scars that twist across his back have faded slightly since I first saw them in the hospital three years ago, but they are still vivid. I think they are like a map to the desert in which we live, an expanse of burnt valleys and peaks - but oh, so beautiful and unique.

Like the person who bears them.

I wonder if Greg knows I do this at night. He may wrap himself in the airs of an over-caffeinated puppy, but beneath that he is the most perceptive person I know - or maybe he is just so attuned to me because he loves me. He watches me like a hawk, although he thinks he is hiding it. It should annoy me, but it doesn't, because he covers it up with little actions that prove how aware he is and how he knows what he needs to do to keep me sane - whether it is a small wave at work to let me see he is there should I need him, or laying down a trail of ant sand when he finds a small community in the yard which he thinks I haven't seen, and doesn't want me to see.

I trace the ridged flesh on his back, and he moans lightly. I stop, guilty, wondering if by touching him there I have awakened bad and repressed memories of his own which can only emerge from the unguarded, deep recesses of sleep. I remember how he had his own troubles sleeping just after the explosion, and how in those first few weeks of our burgeoning relationship the time we spent together was just holding each other in bed and talking throughout the night - Greg in too much pain, and too wired on painkillers to be able to close his eyes.

But I treasure this time. I know sleep will begin to come to me again, just like I knew I would stop fearing the dark and began switching off the bedside lamp at night. I memorise every inch of his back. Our history is written here. These were the scars that forced me to overcome my fears and claim the love that I had wanted for years, the happiness that I had denied myself.

That is why Greg's back is so beautiful to me. It is a symbol of my commitment, our love, what brought us together. In a way, it is more than a wedding ring could ever hope to be. I hated that he was ashamed of his scars, and tried to hide them for so long, and he still has his moments when he is sensitive about them. I can't blame him for it, I wear my own now as well and have momentary fits of pique about them and their visibility. And in reaction, Greg is always as patient and caring as I was. And then we laugh at ourselves for being hypocrites.

But when he is asleep, he can't shield himself from my gaze. I can rest my hand against his back, feeling the warmth pass between and through us.

And I can finally rest.

***