SquidgeWorld Archive

White Winters
by nancy

The snow was weird. For a native California boy like Brian, any snow was weird, never mind three feet of it. They'd gone north instead of south like the authorities had assumed they would. They crossed into Canada with fake Canadian IDs that Brian had produced for them all before the jailbreak; IDs that were sure to get them anywhere they wanted to go.

He'd come to discover that they were too good, because a month after they got to Vancouver, Dom left. Brian had recognized the signs of a caged wild thing the day after they'd stopped at a small hotel in the city. Dom was quiet and withdrawn, his dark eyes always scanning for trouble that didn't come. It wasn't prison, but they were laying low and letting the police think that they'd gone to Mexico, thanks to a few friends of Dom's who were spreading sightings of him going ever further south.

Brian woke one morning to find Dom had trimmed the unruly beard into a neat goatee and bought new clothes, along with a stylish hat. He looked like Dom, just not like the Dom in his mugshot. Brian knew he wouldn't have any problems with airport security. Brian had nodded and said, "Give me a call sometime and let me know you're okay."

Dom had looked at him with that intense expression that said he wanted to say something, but couldn't think how to express it. The other man had finally just said, "I will," and left.

Brian had been using the fake ID since getting to Vancouver just to make things easier in keeping the heat off Dom. Mia had gone back to the States a couple of weeks earlier, but to a friend in New York City. He didn't know if she was using her real name or not, but their alibis were in place regardless. He and Dom had moved when she had so she truthfully wouldn't know where they were.

That left Brian alone in a country not his own. He found a job doing garage work just to have something familiar. Time passed slowly in a kind of haze that had each day melting into the next. He knew that he could go back to California and resume a life that was at least nominally his own. The cops and feds both would first question and then watch him, but they'd been very, very careful in the jailbreak. As soon as they'd come up to the bus, masks had gone on so they couldn't be ID'd by either prisoners or bus video.

Something kept him in Vancouver, though; the knowledge that if he left, Dom wouldn't be able to find him again, especially in the States. So he went through his first white winter, shivering every single day and bundled up. His coworkers liked to tease him about all the layers and he took it with good grace since they were good guys.

Christmas was spent alone, just like all the other holidays, even the new ones.

New Year's found him drinking to forget.

When Brian showed up for work the Monday after New Year's, Daniel, his boss, immediately sent him home and he slept for almost a whole day. Life returned to what passed for normal after that and no one asked him why he'd almost poisoned himself to death over the holidays.

The seasons turned and he very, very slowly came out of his self-imposed shell. The longer Dom was gone, the more certain Brian became that he wouldn't come back. By nature someone who needed others, Brian finally allowed Daniel to coax him into going to dinner. That turned into movie night with a few of his coworkers which turned into regular pick-up games when the snow finally disappeared.

Fall came back around again and even though Brian's body got cold again, he didn't allow himself the self-indulgence of freezing up inside, too. He celebrated Canadian holidays at Daniel's for lack of anywhere else to go and went to parties with the guys at work. It wasn't a life he would have chosen, but it was a good life nonetheless.

And then Christmas came around again. Brian found himself breathless at odd times, his stomach twisting with a need he refused to name, even to himself. He bundled up in layers and walked from his small loft apartment to the garage in the dark, both morning and night. His life was filled with a grayness that made him ache for the sun and heat.

Maybe sensing the chasm within, Daniel insisted on Brian spending Christmas with him and his family, claiming Emily wouldn't let him say no. Brian gave in with a smile and spent the day trying not to be five seconds from a breakdown that would have him reaching for a bottle. He exchanged presents with them and the guys at work and Daniel drove him home, since it was further away  than the garage and walking in the deep cold would be stupid.

"Do I need to worry about you this year?" Daniel asked quietly, parked in the driveway.

Brian quirked a grin at him and answered, "Depends on what you mean by `worry.'"

Daniel's grizzled face frowned at him and the man clarified, "You going to try and kill yourself again?"

Looking out the window at the edges of his small apartment building, Brian thought about it honestly and then told him, "Probably not."

Daniel muttered, "Well that's reassuring."

Brian smiled and reached over to grip his shoulder, squeezing it. "I'll be fine, honest."

"You should talk about her some day," Daniel said.

There was nothing but support on his boss' face and Brian impulsively corrected, "His name is Dominic."

Daniel's lips pursed for a long moment and then he replied, "That's a start, I suppose. You want me to come in? Em's worried about you. So am I. Would do you good to talk. Been a year now."

Brian knew, then, how lucky he was to have people in his life who cared for him. A small part of him warmed just a little deep inside and he said, "No, but thanks, man. I'll see you in work on Monday."

Nodding, Daniel didn't stop him from leaving again.

The week between Christmas and New Year's held the same blurred quality that his first couple of months in Canada had had. Brian knew it was a step back, but he couldn't help himself from just concentrating on his work and not interacting as much with the others. It was almost as if telling Daniel just that little piece of information had knocked him backwards.

Daniel's worried gaze followed him out of the garage and before he got halfway down the block, his boss called after him. Brian turned to find the older man jogging his way and waited.

"Brian, I don't think you should be alone tomorrow," Daniel said bluntly.

Brian half-smiled and said, "I'll be okay, Dan."

It might or might not be true, but he said it with enough conviction that his boss reluctantly nodded and let him go. He stopped to buy a few bottles of liquor, even if he wasn't sure that he'd actually drink them yet. His small loft was bare of personalization, no mementos of any kind and definitely no holiday decorations. It had furniture and that was about it.

Walking into the kitchen, Brian cooked some pasta, even though he wasn't hungry. It was full dark out at six and he went to turn on the television, letting the noise drone in the background as he ate. The alcohol sat untouched on the kitchen table all night. It wasn't until New Year's Eve that he cracked open the first bottle of tequila and poured a glass, downing it in three long, burning gulps.

Brian coughed a few times, his eyes watering and his head swimming more from the lack of air than the booze. He brought the bottle and the glass back to the sofa and poured another one while watching the New York festivities on the television. He didn't know if Mia was still there, but it made him feel better to think that she was out partying with her friends and he might catch just a glimpse of her.

A knock startled him around eleven thirty and Brian frowned at the door, hoping it wasn't Mr. Fiore. The old man had taken a dislike to Brian from the first moment they'd set eyes on each other. He liked to harass Brian over the smallest of things. When the knock came again, louder and more insistent, he grit his teeth and walked over to the door. Between the alcohol and the way he always cranked the heat, Brian was shirtless and he hoped it ticked the old man off.

Considering the three large glasses of tequila he'd had, Brian was steady on his feet, even if his stomach was beginning to protest. Brian opened the door and the bottle fell from abruptly nerveless fingers when he saw Dom standing in his hallway. He looked exactly the same, dressed in jeans and sporting the goatee, as if the last year plus hadn't happened. The glass shattered and liquid splattered over his bare feet. Brian stepped backwards, right into the glass, and fire slashed through his soles.

Dom grabbed his arm to keep him in place and ordered gruffly, "Don't move, Bri."

Brian stood there, numb, as Dom put his arm over a shoulder and then lifted him bodily out of harm's way, carrying him to the nearest chair at the kitchen table. It wasn't until he was in a chair that Brian managed, "You're here."

"Yeah," Dom confirmed unnecessarily. "Don't move until I clean up your feet and the glass."

He was drunk enough to stay put, but more because he didn't trust his balance than because of the shards currently embedded in his feet.

"Where the hell's your first aid kit?" Dom shouted from the bathroom.

Still fuzzy despite the growing pain, Brian called back, "Don't have one."

There was probably cursing then, but Dom's volume lowered so Brian couldn't make it out. When the other man returned, he was holding a pair of tweezers, a damp face cloth and a towel although where he'd gotten the tweezers, Brian had no idea. Dom knelt on the floor and lifted Brian's foot, which was when he noticed the blood that had fallen onto the tiles; it was a bright red against tan and white diamonds.

He hissed when Dom picked out each piece of glass, the pain finally working through his stupor. Brian's mind began working again as he stared down at Dom's bald head, the hat tossed somewhere on his way to the bathroom. A light sweater covered his broad chest and his hands worked swiftly, surely, to clear the glass. Brian finally asked, "Where'd you go?"

"Pacific Rim," Dom rumbled, not looking at him. "Japan. Followed the Circuit for about a year or so. Looked up old friends."

"Any problems?"

"Nah. The ID worked great."

Brian nodded and fell silent, wincing as Dom lifted his foot to look at it under the light directly, turning it this way and that. He lowered it again and then pressed the damp facecloth to it, which sent a wave of pain through Brian. Too much, because his stomach heaved at the sensory overload and he shoved at Dom, scrambling to get to the sink to vomit. He just made it, throwing up his dinner and the liquor.

Dom supported him with an arm around the waist, a solid, comforting presence as Brian spat out the disgusting taste and then ran the faucet. He rinsed his mouth and then looked up into dark eyes, suddenly feeling just how close the other man stood, strong arm warm on his bare skin, even through the sweater.

Pulling back a little, Dom said, "C'mon, sit back down and let me bundle up the foot. You need to go to the hospital."

Brian held his head and would have said no, except that there was already a small puddle on the floor under his foot. He was definitely losing blood. He nodded reluctantly and said wryly, "At least my blood alcohol's back to normal now."

Dom's mouth quirked and he agreed, "And then some."

After helping him to the chair, Dom wrapped the towel around Brian's foot and then got him a sock and sneaker for the uninjured foot, plus a shirt and his jacket. It took some doing to get him down the stairs, but he was grateful Dom didn't attempt to carry him down them. That would have been a step too far for him to accept.

The Charger sat in the driveway, which gave Brian a distinct sense of disorientation. He looked at Dom and asked, "How'd that happen?"

"Lots of ownership transfers," Dom replied, dry. "Just sit."

Brian sat, buckling up and letting Dom close the door. His foot throbbed unpleasantly the whole trip to the emergency room and by the time they got there, the towel was soaked through. Dom half-carried him inside and Brian was dizzy enough from the blood loss not to complain. A nurse came over right away to take in the situation. He was deemed enough of a problem to be seen right away, probably because Brian swayed and almost passed out right on top of her while standing still.

An hour and thirty stitches later, Brian was bandaged up and ready to go with antibiotics and painkillers as well as a lecture on alcohol consumption. He looked properly contrite and signed all the forms before taking the crutches and slowly making his way to the lobby where Dom waited.

And where Daniel waited, the older man immediately walking over to him.

Brian stopped, startled, and asked, "Dan? What're you doing here?"

"I'm your emergency contact, remember?" Daniel reminded.

Brian cursed himself for not telling the nurse Daniel didn't need to be contacted. He sighed and said, "Sorry, Dan, I should've told them not to bother you."

Daniel shook his head and demanded, "What did you do to yourself? I knew I shouldn't have left you alone for tonight. Should've insisted you come over."

Dom chose that moment to walk over and ask, "Everything okay, Bri?"

Brian recognized that dangerous tone; he'd heard it often enough when they'd first gotten to know each other.

Daniel must've heard the warning in the other man's voice, because he stiffened and took a good look at Dom. His mouth twisted a little and he said, "Let me guess. This is Dominic."

Offering a weak smile, Brian nodded. "He surprised me, stopping by, and I dropped a bottle, then stepped on it. All stitched up, though, and good as new."

Arms folding across his chest, Daniel glared at Dom and informed him, "I hope you know exactly what a wreck Brian's been this last year. If you don't, you're a heartless bastard. Whatever you did to him, he was just starting to become a living, breathing person again. I suggest you leave as sudden as you came back."

Brian groaned, his head dropping down momentarily before he gripped Daniel's shoulder and said, "Thanks, Dan, but I've got this. I'm good, really."

Still glaring at Dom, Daniel relented, "All right. But if you need help, you call me any time."

"I will," Brian promised.

Instead of looking amused at the prospect of a middle-aged man threatening him, Dom simply stayed silent. Once Daniel had left, he looked at Brian and said, "I'll drop you home."

Alarmed that Dom might just take off again, Brian continued, "And then you're helping me upstairs and staying for a while. Right?"

Dom nodded easily enough, but it wasn't at all convincing.

On the ride back, Brian asked, "Talked to Mia?"

"Yeah, on the holidays, usually," Dom replied. "Sent her a cell phone."

It hurt to hear that, even though he'd asked. Clearing his throat, knowing he was a glutton for punishment, Brian questioned, "So you talk to her often, then? How's she doing?"

Avoiding the first question, Dom answered, "Going to NYU on scholarship and staying with her friend Natalie. Always said she got the brains in the family."

"She have any problems with the cops?"

"First couple months she was back, yeah. FBI brought her in a half-dozen times and then kept an eye and ear on her for about six months after that. Seems to be in the clear now, though."

They arrived at the apartment building then and Brian concentrated on getting over the slippery patches with his crutches. Dom hovered beside him and he got inside and upstairs without mishap, the bigger man putting a shoulder under his arm to help with the steps.

At the door to his loft, Brian unlocked it and hobbled inside before realizing that Dom hadn't followed. He twisted around to find a stony expression on the other man's face. Taking a guess at what he might be thinking, Brian met his gaze and stated quietly, "If you leave now, don't come back. Ever. I couldn't take it again."

Dom stared back at him for a long minute before slowly walking in and closing the door behind him. "You should sit down. I'll get you some milk for the meds."

Brian looked at him a moment longer before nodding and going to the sofa, sitting heavily and carefully putting his foot up on the coffee table. The bandages weren't that bulky, but were too much for him to put on shoes or sneakers. His toes were about frozen just from the quick trip to and from the car.

Dom came back with a glass of eggnog, saying, "Didn't find any milk."

Brian half-smiled at him and said, "And the eggnog's only because Emily insisted I have some."

"Bachelor fridge, huh?"

"Yeah."

Brian took the pills between gulps of the eggnog. His stomach almost rebelled again, but he took deep breaths and it cooperated by staying put. Leaning back against the cushions, Brian closed his eyes and did nothing but breathe for a few minutes. He finally opened them again and glanced over as he asked, "So why are you back?"

Dom leaned against the kitchen counter and answered, "Short answer I missed you."

"And the long one?" Brian prompted, needing more.

Scrubbing a hand over his head, Dom glanced over at the window for a few seconds before explaining in stops and starts, "I traveled a lot, Brian. Got to Australia, New Zealand, Japan, India, and even parts of China. I saw a lot of old friends, too. Put away some ghosts and discovered new ones. I guess I figured out that life doesn't stop just because you're not there with the people you love. Every time I saw something incredible or beautiful, or I won another race, I turned to tell you and you weren't there."

"So you missed me," Brian echoed, only a little ironic, "but Dom, who did you miss? Brian the friend, or Brian the lover? Because the only one of me who can take you back is the lover. I can't see you and and not want you a hundred percent. I know you were never in it for the long haul with me. I know you loved Letty and I'm cool with that, if that's where your head's at still. Just don't come around here thinking I can be your friend again. I can't and stay sane."

Dom didn't dispute the lover claim, even though they'd never had sex. He knew exactly how Brian felt about him and friendship was the least of it. Arms folded over his broad chest, Dom didn't answer for a long time. Brian didn't push, not wanting the easy answer.

It was a few minutes later that Dom at last told him, "I wanna try with you, Bri. I'm a pretty lousy guy to pin your heart on, though."

Brian had to smile at that and countered, "You let me worry about my heart."

Dom shook his head and walked over to him. Sitting on the sofa, Dom said, "Can't. If you're givin' it to me, I gotta worry about it."

Reaching out, Brian cupped Dom's face and just stared into the dark eyes he'd come to know so well. It seemed natural when Dom leaned in and gently touched their mouths together, a chaste kiss that remained so for several seconds before he pulled back. Brian had closed his eyes so as not to cross them and opened them again to smile at the other man and say, "Hey there."

That familiar, crooked grin surfaced and Dom murmured back, "Hey. Happy New Year."

Brian laughed softly and shifted closer so he could rest his head on Dom's shoulder.

Sliding his arm behind Brian, Dom gathered him in close and pressed his mouth to the top of Brian's buzz cut. "We need to fatten you up, cara, you've lost too much weight."

Warmth spread all through Brian at the endearment, thawing out all the parts of him that Dom's leaving had frozen. Resting comfortably in the other's arms, he thought that maybe the cold climate and gray skies wouldn't get to him quite as much with Dom there.

Knotting their fingers together, Brian echoed softly, "Happy New Year, Dom."

end