This Dark Hour (closed)

[Dr. James Campbell]

Of course, James wasn't aware of the mental conversation going on around him. He'd never had that power, and he didn't want it. All he wanted was his husband better, and home, and not looking like he'd just seen his life flash before his eyes.

"I'll go call her in a few minutes. If she can come up tonight, then you can be home with us tomorrow, Chase. Doesn't that sound good?" James was getting desperate now, because something was more wrong than just the injuries. (And he felt terrible, because his husband being injured wasn't enough? He needed more to make him this upset?) Again he stroked Chase's hand as he addressed Sean. "Thank you. It's just...only...."

James stopped and took a deep breath, sorting out his thoughts. He'd managed to hold off a panic attack this long, and he could probably just manage on adrenaline until tonight, after Nikki went to bed. Then he could let his anxieties get to him, but not now. Instead, he turned too look at the doctor. "I'll do that. Thank you. I haven't had to deal with something like this before, so I'm probably forgetting something."

But then his attention returned fully to the man in the hospital bed. Chase sounded so desperate and so...guilty. James didn't understand, but it was becoming clearer that he really didn't want to. It was easier to believe that his husband was scared, rather than guilty of something terrible. "I'm only going home so I can be with Nikki, we'll both be back in the morning." He gently pulled Chase's hand up so the back of it was pressed against his cheek, hoping that if he could feel what he was saying, maybe it would get through whatever the blond man wasn't telling him. "Chase, I love you. I am always going to be here. This isn't going to make me leave. Nothing can." Nothing.

[Chase Campbell]

Good, Chase replied, relaxing a little. It was bad enough he’d killed someone and had his husband and son in a blind panic. If Sean had been injured too, he would run out of room to put the guilt he was feeling. At least one of them was capable of thinking. Had he thought, just a little bit, none of this would have happened. Underwood wouldn’t be dead, but Chase wouldn’t be in the hospital, either. James wouldn’t be worried, Nikki wouldn’t be upset, and things would be normal. Instead, he’d stuck to his plan, insane as it was, and look what it had earned him.

I have to tell him something. It was frustrating the hell out of him, Sean advising against telling James anything. Really, how long was he supposed to believe this was really a random assault? His stubborn streak was rearing its’ ugly head, and it wasn’t liking what it was hearing. I’m clear minded now. He didn’t know if that was actually true or not, but he certainly felt better than he had before. He was becoming more aware of the aches all over his body, and if he was feeling those, his mind had to be getting clear. It was only logical. Or perhaps that was still the drugs talking. Fuck.

Realistically, how long could he pin all this on the drugs? He didn’t know. “Yeah, it’s good.” He’d be happier at home. He’d feel better at home. At least until James realized he had a murderer under his roof. Then he didn’t know what would happen. A part of him wanted to keep that secret, wrap it up tight and never again let it see the light of day. But James deserved to know. He deserved to know the truth, however terrible it was. He’d just need to figure out a way to say it without terrifying him. He let James have his hand, relaxing at the feeling of his cheek against his skin. He had no idea if the promise covered criminal behaviour, but it was nice to hear all the same. “I love you too, Jamie. So much.” His voice was close to cracking. “Thank you.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The telepath considered himself lucky to have walked out of the complex unscathed. Twice now he had encountered that gestalt pair and twice they had hurt his friends while he managed to get them to safety. He would have to be careful not to press his luck.

“I understand,” he told James. Although he hadn’t announced this, he had been through this same process with Josh before, and he knew what it was to have a loved one in the hospital, recovering from injuries that might have otherwise taken his life. He knew how draining it could be, he knew the fear, the questions of “what if?”, the anxiety, the need to take charge and put aside his own feelings in the process. “We should all be so lucky to never have to deal with something like this,” he replied soberly. “But if you think of anything, just let me know.”

Sean didn’t debate the necessity of telling James enough to appease him. The psychiatrist didn’t even debate the need to have close to a full disclosure at a later point; this was a life-changing event, and if Sean was in James’s position, he would want to live his life with as much information as possible, particularly with the potential backlash. The telepath simply didn’t want Chase going off half-cocked again, this time giving either an incorrect or emotional assessment of what had happened, without the ability to give a proper explanation, and causing James to panic in the process. Given the injuries, the trauma, and the medication, Sean sincerely doubted that Chase was clear-headed enough for this conversation; particularly when in his book, such an important discussion should occur only in the most sober of settings. At the end of the day, it’s your choice. But I wouldn’t advise having a conversation of this magnitude while you’re pumped full of drugs and while you’re both in highly charged emotional states. Particularly not in a semi-public area where whatever you say can be overheard. While the last factor was a tad paranoid under other circumstances, this was not the average, run-of-the-mill secret. Special precautions had to be taken.

[Dr. James Campbell]

"Good, Chase. She'll take good care of you." Not that the hospital wouldn't, but he hated the thought of his husband being there any longer than absolutely necessary. Really, James agreed with Nikki; he'd be better off at home, with just his family taking care of him. Once he was healing properly, of course.

(He didn't mean to be blocking out Sean, and if he'd been conscious of it, he would have apologized. But Chase was so obviously in distress, James just couldn't focus on anything--or anyone--else.)

As James sat, holding Chase's hand pressed against his cheek, he finally let himself start to shake. He was afraid, terrified, and his anxieties had been building since he'd received that phone call. It felt like it had been years since then, but it couldn't have been more than an hour and a half. Of course, Chase was stable, and in the hospital, where he was being taken care of. But now they had to arrange for other trainers to cover Chase's classes while they heal, and other recruiters to travel, because if Chase was on painkillers, he couldn't take care of Nikki. (And what would social services say about this? Could they remove the boy if one of his caregivers was incapacitated?) But on top of everything else, he was afraid of whatever was going though Chase's mind right now. Why would he ask that in the first place? "Chase, love, I will never leave you. You know that, right?"

And he took the hand that he held to his face and pressed it to his mouth, kissing Chase's fingers, and remembering all the times his husband had done that for him. Every time he'd let his anxieties get the best of him and took them out on his hands, washing them repeatedly until they were raw and bleeding. And that summer, when the blond man had changed the bandages for him. He'd never thanked him enough for that.

[Chase Campbell]

“Yeah,” he agreed absently to James. He wasn’t even paying clear attention to what was coming out of his husband’s mouth anymore. He’d agreed to have the biomanipulator see to some of his injuries. It was enough to keep James sane. That was all he needed. Anything, to keep James sane. Just a little.

Just so he had something to hold on to, when Chase finally brought James’ world down.

Sean was distracting. Chase closed his eyes, too tired to argue, but too stubborn not to. He was an adult, dammit. Drugs or no drugs, he could think for himself. He could do this himself. He needed to tell James, and sooner seemed better in his eyes. More time for him to adjust. More time to let it sink in.

… More time to decide how he wanted to approach a separation. Or turn Chase over to the police, because it was the right thing to do. He shivered at the thought. This had to stop. If he was going to do this, he was going to get it over with. The more James reassured him things were okay, that he’d never leave him, the more he was stressing out. Sean was wrong. This was something James needed to know now. He wasn’t going to be talked out of it.

He ceased mental conversation with the psychiatrist, choosing instead to voice what he wanted verbally. “I need to talk to James. Alone.” The words were soft, but clear. This was what he wanted. What he needed. Slowly, he pulled his hand back, feeling guilty about the gentle kisses. He didn’t deserve them.

And soon, James would realize that.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

The scene before him underscored why the telepath had tried to talk Chase out of this fool’s errand in the first place. James was worried more than he should have to be, particularly after what had happened over the summer; his worry was with good cause, but it could have been avoided. Chase would require physical, emotional, and possibly psychic recovery from this. Their family had already suffered far too much at the hands of Underwood and his associates. To have today’s events – the full events – heaped on James was in the cosmic sense unfair, although Chase had reaped what he had sown.

And for that, at the end of the day, it was Chase’s decision – no one else’s – to initiate this conversation. Thus Sean would make no attempts to stop him. And since the decision had been made, for better or for worse, to do so here, in a semi-public place just hours after the incident and while on painkillers, there was little that the telepath could do. He acquiesced, “I’ll be outside, but I’m not leaving yet.” He might still be required for damage control.

He stepped out of the room, taking care to close the door behind him to afford the two men privacy in the process. He could go find Ethan to thank him for the help.

[Dr. James Campbell]

James spent a lot of his time trying to keep his anxieties in check. He'd always been a nervous person, with the strain of a super-human amount of information he received daily. But it was Chase who kept him calm, who reminded him that things didn't have to be perfect to work. They were good for each other, and it really scared him that he didn't know what his husband was thinking now. They were usually so in synch.

"Chase?" James asked tentatively, letting his hand drop so it was resting on his husband's arm. Chase pulling his hand away hit him hard. That must have been what it had felt like him the summer before, when he could barely manage sitting with the blond man's arm around his shoulder. Things had been getting so much better, and now this?

He looked up at Sean and nodded, waiting for the older man to take his leave before turning back to Chase. "It's okay, love. I'm right here." He was hovering, and he knew it, but that didn't stop him from sitting on the edge of the bed and gently running his hand over his husband's forehead, smoothing his hair back. Whatever Chase was feeling guilty about, it didn't matter. They could get through this. "What's wrong? Besides the obvious, that is."

Whatever it was.

[Chase Campbell]

There were no words to express just how guilty Chase felt over the whole thing. He hadn’t meant for it to get out of hand. He hadn’t meant to kill anyone. He hadn’t meant to get hurt. He should have expected the worst. Instead, he’d gotten cocky, and look where it had landed him. He didn’t want to have to tell James what had happened. He could only imagine one scenario. James, walking out of the room, and never coming back.

Chase glanced up at Sean, silently nodding. Thank you. He knew this wasn’t smart. Far from it. But James needed to know. He let James leave his hand on his arm, knowing that it wouldn’t last long. He’d take whatever comfort he could draw now, even if it wasn’t deserved. If nothing else, it would make for good memories when his husband left him.

“No,” he said quietly. “No, it’s not okay.” He shifted in the bed, trying to ignore the sharp twinge in his ribs. What was wrong? Everything. Everything was wrong. “James,” he started, his voice already weak. “I did something...” He knew drugs weren’t the problem this time. He just didn’t want to go through with this. But he had to. The trainer closed his eyes. “Terrible,” he finished. “I did something terrible. A-and if you want to leave, I’ll understand. But I need to tell you.” He needed to, yes. He just didn’t want to.

[Dr. James Campbell]

"Careful, Chase, don't move." He put his hand down on his husband's shoulder, trying to hold him in place on the bed so he couldn't hurt his ribs more. It scared him how easy it was to do, how the blond man couldn't even hold his body up against gentle pressure. Whatever they had doped Chase with, it worked. He couldn't even fight back against James' skinny arms. "It is okay."

Already, James was gnawing on the inside of his lip as he listened. This just didn't make any sense to him. Where was his husband, the sweet, cocky, confident man? Had the assault really messed him up so badly? "Chase. I'm not going to leave you. I am never going to leave you. Not ever. You're going to come home to me and Nikki and Ginny will visit on weekends and we're still going to be a family. Whatever you did, it doesn't change anything." Was he rambling? It felt like he was rambling. At the same time that he wanted to listen, so Chase could say whatever was bothering him and he could promise that they're okay, and are still going to be together, no matter what, James was beginning to fear Chase's confession. What could he have done that was so terrible? "Just...just tell me, okay?"

[Chase Campbell]

The little warning was lost on the trainer as he shifted. Be careful. He felt like he’d heard it too many times recently, mostly out of Sean’s mouth. He wanted to struggle, fight back against his husband. He wanted to sit up and wrap his arms around him, and believe that things would be okay. Instead, he found himself pinned to the bed with a minute amount of pressure, and grasping at the words to explain himself.

It hadn’t been the assault that had messed with him so badly. That much, he could deal with. It was something else entirely, the reason he was fearing James leaving him. “You will,” he insisted. He couldn’t imagine another outcome. He would confess, and James would leave him. No, he could imagine it one step worse. James could alert the authorities, and he’d be arrested. Never see Ginny or Nikki or any of his students ever again. Or James. The worst case scenarios were going through his head, and not much would make them vanish. Not even James’ promises that things would be okay.

At James’ instruction, Chase nodded as best he could. Pain was getting easier to ignore. He was quiet for a moment, trying to find the best way to word it. Finally, he settled on what seemed the easiest way. “... Gabriel Underwood is dead.” He couldn’t look at James anymore. “I... it was... I did it. I killed him.” Though his voice had quieted, the confession was clear. He was a murderer.

[Dr. James Campbell]

"I won't." James sniffed slightly, trying to hold back the tears he knew were coming. Sure, they disagreed a lot, but it was always in fun. They rarely argued over something important. So whatever was causing this had to be big. Big enough to potentially tear apart what might be the last stable relationship between Hammel staffers. "I never could."

Could he though? As he fought not to cry, James actually tried to think of things that would cause him to leave his husband. The only thing he could think of was doing something to the kids, and even then, it was in a hypothetical, "I would leave someone who hurt my kids." way, and not actually considering it, because it couldn't happen.

James' body tensed at the mention of Underwood, but the rest of the confession made him stop breathing for a moment. Wordlessly, his hand dropped from his husband's shoulder down to his hand. He'd been a victim of Underwood's before; he knew what it felt like to have that horrible man in his head. But if Gabriel was dead, that meant Chase had fought back. It took a moment for James to fight through the clog in his throat to speak. "Oh, God, Chase. What did he do to you?"

[Chase Campbell]

Oh God. James couldn’t cry. If he started, Chase would start, and that wasn’t what he wanted. Not at all. He wanted to be the strong one. He wanted to be able to pull James close and make the promises that things would be okay. If he made his husband understand that this was bad enough, and big enough, to pull them apart, maybe he could cling to the hope that James wouldn’t really leave him. “You could,” he urged, trying to sound more confident.

It was worse than hurting the kids. He would never lay a hand on his students, let alone his own children. Then again, he’d never thought he’d be capable of murder, either. It had been an accident. He hadn’t gone there with the intentions of killing Gabriel. He honestly hadn’t. He had gone there with the intent to scare him into leaving his family, and Hammel, alone.

He just hadn’t realized that only one of them could leave the meeting alive. He was surprised by the sudden move of James’ hand from his shoulder to his hand, and like a desperate man, he clung to it. Could James really be... okay with this? The thought stunned the blond man, until he realized where James’ train of thought had gone. Slowly, he began to shake his head. His voice dropped down to a mere whisper. “Nothing. Except hurt you, and threaten Nikki. I... he didn’t see me coming. I didn’t mean to kill him.” That was something he wanted James to understand. “It was an accident. He was threatening to kill me, and it was just... I...” Slowly, he was losing his grip on his ability to be calm. “I’m sorry,” he finally whispered, blinking back his own tears. “I’m so sorry.”

[Dr. James Campbell]

James just kept squeezing Chase's hand, trying to work out how he felt. He missed having his husband's influence in his head, keeping his anxieties in check, keeping him calm. They used to work so well together, like that. James would plan and fret and worry, and Chase would balance him, acting and calming and matching each little worry with unwavering support.

Why was it so hard to know what he was feeling on his own?

There was worry and guilt, because there was no way Chase would have let himself be pulled into this if it hadn't have been for the attack on James, months ago. That, he figured, was normal. What wasn't was that he was a little relieved.

Was he a terrible person for thinking the world was a better place without Gabriel Underwood in it?

He kept hold of Chase's hand, but James also leaned forward and rested his other hand on Chase's cheek. (The recruiter didn't think he could stand to see the other man cry.) "Oh, Chase." With a sniffle, he tried to put a smile on his face, but he was scared of what could happen next. "Does Sean know? Is that why he didn't think you should report it?" Though that made a little sense, Chase had been attacked. It was self defense.

There was no way it could be anything else.

"Chase, I understand. I know you didn't mean to kill him. You would never kill anybody." This whole conversation was surreal, and James couldn't keep the tears from starting as he continued. "But it was self-defense. If he was going to kill you, you had to." He'd helped console young recruits who had accidentally killed people with their powers, so he was uncomfortably comfortable in this role, now. "I'm going to stay right here. I'm going to stay right with you, Chase."

[Chase Campbell]

Chase didn’t want James to know how he really felt. Under the drugged haze, there was conflicting guilt and fear. He was supposed to be the strong one. He didn’t like feeling so scared, so helpless. His instincts were telling him to comfort James. It was something that came as naturally as breathing. But he didn’t even want to use his power to calm his husband.

Hell, he didn’t want to use his power for anything anymore.

More contact. A part of the trainer wanted to squirm away. He didn’t deserve this. The gentle touches, the reassurances. He didn’t deserve any of it, after what he’d done. “Jamie, don’t cry.” It seemed ridiculous to be making requests like that, but the last thing he wanted to see his husband do was cry. “Please.” His question made him look away, though. Of course Sean knew. “Yes,” he managed. “He came with me.” God, it was all going to come to light now. The planning, the lies, all of it. And again, the fear of being left washed over the blond.

James didn’t get it.

For a man that usually ‘got’ everything, it almost made Chase want to laugh in frustration. Instead, he just swallowed and closed his eyes. “Gabriel didn’t do this to me. It was a Gestalt pair. After I’d killed him.” The only reason he’d actually done what he had was because of an idle threat. He’d had no doubts that Gabriel would have killed him, but to defend that fact, if he had to, to the authorities? It couldn’t be done. “Gabriel didn’t do anything, except talk.” Why was this so hard?

[Dr. James Campbell]

Oh.

Around the point where Chase said that Sean came with him, things started to click into place for James. This wasn't an assault on Chase that hadn't ended the way the attack had planned. This wasn't just his husband defending himself against a sociopath.

It was a murder.

James stood up straight and let his hands drop to his sides as he processed the information. Gestalt pair. Murder. Sean was an accomplice. Murder. Gabriel had associates willing to beat a man within an inch of his life, and probably further as well. Gabriel didn't do anything.

Murder.

Regardless of what Chase had said, the tears were flowing freely now, as he tried to speak without his voice being any more uneven than it had to be. James was trying to understand, he really was.

"Chase. What do you mean Sean went with you?" He spoke slowly, hoping with each word that he was wrong, he was stupid, he wasn't coming to the right conclusion. "Did you go after Gabriel Underwood?"

And, bizarrely enough, that lead into another complaint, though one that was admittedly trivial in comparison. "Have you been lying to me for weeks about what you two were doing?"

In his head, James was praying again. This time, to God, to the saints, to anyone that would listen, he prayed that Chase could deny it all.