Author: Elandae (j_3101@yahoo.ca)

Pairing: Karl Urban/Craig Parker

Rating: R

Warnings: Swearing. They made me do it *gestures to little people that only I can see*

Feedback: Always welcome! J

Disclaimer: Don’t know these people; make no claim to actor’s actual lives, preferences, etc. The only true part is that Karl likes to fish. Everything else is my creation.

Author’s Notes: For Dae-sey Doosey.

Part 1: Back and Forth

Craig checked his watch for what felt like the hundredth time in the past five minutes. He’d been pacing back and forth while waiting for Karl to arrive home, in between anxious looks toward the clock that is. Craig had an important dinner to get to, and his car was in the shop. Karl had taken his truck to go fishing today, but had *promised* to be home in time to drive Craig to the restaurant. He was now 45 minutes late. Craig hoped that there would be some good excuse for Karl’s lateness, but the feeling in the pit of his stomach told that there probably wasn’t. Karl had a habit of forgetting his promises. He was fine with the bigger, more important stuff strangely, but for whatever reason, the little things just seemed to slip his mind. Craig was tired of being blown off; he was so tired of Karl’s behavior period. Nothing he did had any effect, and he hated to sound like a nag, but Karl had a nasty habit of ignoring things that he didn’t feel were important, regardless of the fact that they were important to Craig. He would be able to forgive Karl, *wanted* to forgive him, if Karl was just apologetic, if he had least acknowledged that he had made a mistake, was sorry for letting Craig down.

Craig decided to try and read. He sat down on the couch, carefully arranging himself so as not to wrinkle his clothes. He picked up the book he had been reading earlier that day from the coffee table, and attempted to focus on the words. Craig’s attention was elsewhere; his eyes just kept sliding over the same sentence over and over, not absorbing anything. That is when he could actually take his eyes off the clock. Finally, Craig slammed the book shut with a sigh of disgust; he had no idea what he had just spent the past 5 minutes attempting to read. He glanced at the clock again, and decided that maybe pacing would calm him down a little. Either way, he needed to be doing something physical, not just sitting around. He needed to work off some of this nervous energy. He had a sudden urge to break something, preferably something expensive. And if said item happened to belong to Karl, so much the better. He restrained himself, no need to act like a child even if he still felt so bloody wound up.

Craig started muttering to himself as he paced, completely unaware of the fact that he was speaking out loud.

‘Can’t believe he is this damn late…..bastard….ought to kick his ass…..really, don’t know I put up with this-‘

Craig’s muttering was cut off by a soft chuckle. He looked up to see Karl lounging easily in the doorway.

‘Talking to yourself now, are you?’ He asked, obviously finding this vastly amusing.

‘If you had gotten your ass home when you were supposed to, I wouldn’t have been talking to myself in the first place,’ Craig said, his voice higher than usual, sharper.

‘Okay, *what* is your problem?’ Karl asked, giving Craig a strange look.

The fact that not only was Karl late *again*, but that he didn’t even remember why he was supposed to have been home, added fuel to an already raging fire, waves of anger flashing hotly through Craig’s body.

‘I can’t believe that you don’t fucking remember!’ Craig exclaimed.

‘Remember what?’ Karl asked, looking genuinely puzzled.

Craig stared at him dumbfounded, unable to believe that Karl could not remember this. ‘You were supposed to drive me to my dinner tonight!’ Even Karl noticed the dangerous undertone in Craig’s voice now. He looked at Craig, this ‘what am I not getting?’ look on his face, and asked, ‘Why don’t you just take your car?’ Really it just seemed painfully obvious to him, and he wasn’t sure why Craig hadn’t done this already.

‘Oh. My. God, ‘Craig said, biting off each word. ‘*My* car has been in the shop for a fucking *week*, Karl! Nice of you to notice. Don’t you even remember me reminding you about 6 fucking times this morning that I needed a ride tonight?’ Craig yelled, his voice rising at the end, staring hard at the taller man, his eyes burning into Karl.

Karl stared back at Craig, ’It’s not that big of a deal, Craig,’ he replied, his voice hard. ‘You could have just gotten a ride from someone else.’

‘No, I couldn’t have,’ Craig replied, angrily correcting Karl, talking as though to a child,  ‘You see, I told everyone, being the fucking idiot that I am, that you were going to give me a ride, so no one needed to worry. I should have known that you would have forgotten about me, the minute you walked out that fucking door.’

‘I had other things on my mind,’ Karl replied defensively, feeling his voice rising, matching Craig’s tone.

‘Oh, I see, ‘Craig mocked, ‘you had *other* things on your mind. Well, god forbid that I should intrude on these other, obviously more important things on your mind. I don’t even know why I thought I could depend on you to remember something that doesn’t directly involve you!’ Craig yelled, exasperated. 

Karl jerked as if he had been hit, ‘I cannot believe you said that,’ he hissed. ‘Just because I forget something *one* time, you have to make this huge deal out of it. You’re always fucking making a huge deal out of nothing!’

‘What?’ Craig spluttered, not knowing which part to react to first. ‘Well, maybe if this was the first time you jerked me around, it *wouldn’t* be such a big fucking deal, goddamn it, but you are *always* fucking letting me down,’ The last part said through tightly clenched teeth.

‘Fuck you.’ Karl growled. ‘It doesn’t matter if I remember or not, nothing I do is ever fucking good enough for you anyways,’ he burst out.

‘How typical is that, you bastard!? How could anything you do be good enough for me? You never *do* a goddamn thing that I ask you to do. Maybe, if you stopped paying so much attention to yourself all the fucking time, you might notice some of these things’ Craig raged, his hands clenching tightly into fists.

‘What you gonna hit me now?’ Karl mocked, noticing the tension in Craig’s body, his fists, ‘take your best shot.’

Craig’s eyes narrowed at this comment, ‘Well, I’m sure that if I did, you would actually notice something for once,’ the tone was biting, acidic.

Karl looked at him in disgust, ‘I don’t fucking need this.’

‘Aw, yeah, you must have had a *hard* day out fishing,’ Craig said, his voice veritably dripping with sarcasm. He made a face at Karl, ‘God forbid other people have their own fucking problems. You probably just can’t deal with that after *such* a tiring day.’

‘No,’ Karl shot back, ‘I meant I don’t need *this*,’ He continued, gesturing first to himself, then to Craig. ‘I don’t fucking need *you”. And with that parting shot, he was gone, the door slamming behind him, and leaving Craig suddenly drained of all his anger. His whole body felt numb, he sank onto the couch. Karl’s words were ringing through his head….I don’t need you. Oh fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

The numbness was gone as suddenly as it had come, shocking Craig into awareness. It hurt; the pain was practically tangible. Karl’s words hung in the air, Craig felt like he could reach out and grab them, crimson and hard and pulsing. He sat there on the couch for a couple minutes, no longer watching the clock, no longer wound up. He felt drained, and suddenly a good stiff drink seemed just what he needed. That bottle of vodka in the kitchen would about hit the spot.

He stumbled into the kitchen, tripping and catching himself on the edge of the counter. Craig rummaged around in several cupboards until he finally located his booty. He skipped the using a glass part, simply took the bottle straight back to the couch. He pulled a couple of blankets from the linen closet on the way, suddenly realizing that he couldn’t sleep in *their* bed. Not tonight.

Moaning incoherently he sank onto the couch, pulling the blankets with him, and tossing the lid to the vodka onto the floor, no way was he gonna need that now. Craig took a long swallow, feeling the liquid sear its’ way down his throat, bringing tears to his eyes. It made a pleasant warmth in his stomach, creating a false sense of comfort. Hell, he would take anything he could get right now Craig thought, biting down hard on his lip, anything to keep the tears from falling.

*   *   *   *   * 

            Karl was out the door before he even realized that he had left, the evening air cool against his skin. God, he was such a fucking idiot. He hadn’t meant it, regretted it as soon as those words had left his mouth, but he’d been so fucking angry. Had wanted to hurt Craig, make him feel the way he did. Petty, but shit, Craig had just attacked him. Though now, Karl didn’t think he was ever going to be able to get the image of Craig’s shocked face out of his mind. Every time he closed his eyes it would be there. Why did he have to say *that*??! He knew how much it would bother Craig, knew it would hurt. This was Karl’s first relationship with another man, and Craig always worried that he was pushing Karl. He’d wanted to make sure that Karl was ready for this. And maybe Karl hadn’t been.

What he should have done was right then was turn around and go back into the house, tell Craig that he hadn’t meant it, erase that look from Craig’s eyes. But knowing something and actually doing it are two very different things. Karl’s mind told him to keep going, and he climbed into his truck, slamming it into gear, tearing down the driveway. He snapped on the radio hoping to drown out the thoughts blundering around in his brain. He found a station playing something hard and angry and turned it up until his ears hurt and his head ached. Just right for how he was feeling. Mood music.

            Karl drove mindlessly through the streets, not paying much attention to where he was going. Until he got there. He suddenly realized that he had driven to this secluded spot near a small lake.

Awhile back, Karl had gotten some new camping equipment and had wanted to try it out. Craig suggested a little spot that he knew, and they had come here. Karl had instantly fallen in love with the spot, with the peace that he’d found here. They had slept out under the stars, watching them twinkle above them in the midnight sky.

 Karl brought the truck to a gentle stop, and pulled the key from the ignition. With the music suddenly gone, and with only the clinking noises of the engine to keep him company, the silence startled him. His ears felt fuzzy and dim from the very lack of noise. He climbed from the cab, and settled himself on a large rock near the edge of the lake. There was still with a lingering trace of warmth from the sun, and it made his skin tingle.

            Karl sat there until the sun had set, and the stars had come out, twinkling, but somehow not the same as they had been that night. Did stars look different when there wasn’t someone there to look at them with you? Was that even possible? He stared up at the sky for a moment, lost in his thoughts, shivering lightly in the damp night air. Karl got up, absently stretching his stiff muscles, and climbed back into the cab of the truck. Sitting there, again, not even bothering to start the engine. Trying to quiet his thoughts, he just watched, the gentle wind rustling through the trees, the moon light dancing across the water. The thought that Craig would have loved this popped unbidden into his head. A little late for that, he thought. He should have remembered that before he’d run out, should have shown Craig everyday that he loved him. But he hadn’t. Because he was scared, he was a fucking coward, and he’d ran. And now he was alone, with no one to thank for that but himself. Karl sat there, still watching, not even moving to wipe away the tear that slid swiftly down his cheek. Then another and another, unable to hold them back. He sat there crying, not making a noise, and did nothing, just like he had done nothing earlier this evening. Except now it was too late to turn back around.

                                                            *   *   *   *   * 

            Craig felt a blinding ray of light pierce his eye. He groaned, immediately regretting it as it echoed brutally through his brain. God, what had happened last night? He really couldn’t remember much past dropping onto the couch with a bottle of vodka. Which was strange, Craig thought, as he wasn’t much of a drinker. He sat up on the couch, and waited for the room to stop spinning before venturing to put his feet on the floor. He threw the rest of the blankets off of his body, and jumped a little at the shock of cold air against his warm skin.  Why the hell was he on the couch? And why was his lip sore? The events of the past evening remained frustratingly fuzzy and out of reach.

            Craig stumbled down the hall, bracing himself occasionally against a wall, moving slowly, but surely towards the bedroom. He pushed the door open, and when he saw the bed, empty and perfectly made up, he remembered why he had been on the couch. Last night came flooding back, and Craig let out a strangled cry as everything swung into focus. ‘I don’t need you.’ Karl was gone. It was over. God, if only he hadn’t pushed him, let things go at their own pace.  A wave of pain washed over Craig, threatened to drown him, he staggered to the bed and collapsed on it. That was no good, he could smell Karl here, smell his shampoo, his skin. Craig rolled over on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Fuck, this had to be a dream, this couldn’t actually be happening. Sure he and Karl had their problems, but Craig had thought they’d always be together, that they’d been made for each other. The thought, sickeningly sweet as it was, had always comforted him, to think that this was a man who had been made expressly for him. You stupid bastard, Craig mentally swore at himself, never count on forever.

            Craig decided a shower was what he needed, anything to clear up this fog in his brain. He pushed off the bed, and stumbled right into the bedside table, his balance completely shot. He looked down, and there was a picture of him and Karl. It had been a taken shortly after they had met, the night they had camped out by that lake. Karl had taken the picture, holding the camera out at arm’s length, so the picture was a little blurry. Karl was looking straight into the camera, smiling his dimpled smile, and Craig had his head thrown back, laughing at something Karl had just said. It was Craig’s favorite picture of them. He had clearer, better posed pictures, but this one made him remember that night, he couldn’t look at it without smiling. Except now that he was looking at it, it didn’t cheer him up, it made him angry. Very angry. Fuck having pushed Karl, he was a big boy. If he hadn’t wanted this, he could have stopped it before it got to this point. Craig picked the picture up and threw it against the wall as hard as he could, feeling a sense of vindication at the loud crack as it connected, as the glass shattered, throwing shards over the floor.

            Craig stared for a moment, at the cracked frame, the shattered glass. How appropriate, he thought bitterly. Again the anger was gone as quickly as it had come; all he was left with was the cold feeling of being utterly alone. He sighed heavily and went to pick up the glass, tossing the frame in the garbage. Craig began picking up the larger chunks of glass; he’d sweep the shards up later. He set the pieces in his left had, jumping at a sharp pain. He looked down to see a cut along the palm of his hand. He’d thought he’d been careful, but obviously not careful enough. Craig knelt there, on the hard floor of the completely silent house, and watched the blood flow, crimson and pure over his hand. Simply watched it flow over the curve of his hand, dripping onto the floor, making a smooth plopping noise as it landed on the picture, smearing his face with red.

                                                            *   *   *   *   *

            Karl decided that he needed some sleep when he saw the sun peeking over the tops of the hills. He had stayed there all night, his eyes dry and burning now, just thinking. Running everything through his head, until it ached from the screaming inside him, until the silence outside hurt, physically hurt him. Karl turned the key in the ignition, the engine shattering the quiet, deafeningly close in the confines of the truck’s cab. He drove until he found the nearest motel, he knew he could not face any of his friends right now, didn’t want to have to explain what had happened, didn’t want their sympathy. He couldn’t handle that right now. Couldn’t take the pitying look on their faces, their questions, being ushered to a cold sterile room. Lying there, knowing that in the next room was a couple, together, happy, while he lay there, aching and empty. And alone. Always alone from now on.

            Karl paid for a room, and breathed a sigh of relief as he closed the door behind him. He crawled into the bed, stopping only to take his shoes off, and pulled the covers up around his neck. He curled up tightly, and exhausted from the night’s events, quickly fell into a deep sleep, stirring only when he rolled over and found the other side of the bed empty and cool, so wrong when Craig’s warm body should be next to him. He awoke, all alone in the unfamiliar room, and shivered, even though he wasn’t cold.

                                                            *   *   *   *   *

             Craig made his way to the bathroom, dumping the shards of glass into the nearest garbage can. His arm in the air, trying to help stop the blood flow. He held his hand over the sink, letting the clotting blood drip into it, while he rummaged in the cabinet for a Band-Aid and something to clean up the cut. Craig held a wad of toilet paper to the cut, pressing down; he pulled it away and noticed the blood flow has slowed. The cut was just a superficial one, and he quickly swiped it with disinfectant and covered it up. Noticing the caked blood on his forearm, Craig remembered that he had been about to take a hot shower. He turned on the faucet, waiting until it ran warm. Craig stripped off his clothes, leaving them in a wrinkled heap on the floor.

He stepped under the warm spray, feeling in run in soothing rivulets down his body. He washed the blood from his skin, attempting awkwardly to keep his cut out of the direct spray so the band-aid wouldn’t get soaked. He grabbed the nearest bottle of shampoo, and flicked the cap open with his good hand. A soft smell wafted from the bottle, making Craig wince. Karl’s shampoo. God, how many times had he smelled this on Karl, fresh from the shower. Made love with him, wrapped up in *this* smell. He reached quickly for another bottle, a new one that Karl had never used. God, if shampoo made him start shaking, Craig had no fucking idea how he was going to make it through the rest of the day, much less anything after that. The thought of day after day going by without Karl there anymore, sitting together in the sunshine on a lazy Sunday morning, just making Karl laugh, seeing his eyes dance, the corners of his eyes crinkle up, it overwhelmed Craig, and finally the tears came, pouring down his face.

            Craig stood under the shower head until the water was tepid.  He finally reached down and turned the water off, stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around his waist. He pulled another towel off the rack, and rubbed it roughly over his hair. He cleared the steamed up mirror, and peered into it. Frightening. His eyes were red rimmed and his hair was standing up in crazy chunks.  Okay, so mirrors were not his friend today. Craig ran his toothbrush under the faucet, feeling significantly more human after brushing his teeth. He grabbed a comb off the counter and pulled it quickly through his hair.

He took a deep breath in the humid air in the bathroom and coughed. Craig opened the bathroom door, shivering pleasantly when the cool air from the bedroom struck him flat in his chest, still covered with beaded droplets of water. He walked over to the dresser, his eyes avoiding the remnants of glass and blood still on the floor. Craig pulled a drawer open, dropping the towel to the floor, and pulling on a clean pair of boxers. He pulled open the drawer beneath, grabbing the first shirt his hands came upon. It was Karl’s. Fuck, why did his stuff have to be *everywhere*?! Craig opted instead for a button down shirt of his that was faded from wear, pulled it on, feeling the comfortably worn softness against his bare skin. He pulled a pair of jeans from a nearby chair, thankful that for once his hand had landed on something that was his. The jeans were his favorite pair, and hung low on his hips.

            Craig made his way to the kitchen, putting the kettle on to boil, and pulling a coffee mug and a teabag out of the cupboard. Well, at least the dizzy nauseous hung over feeling had mostly abated. Craig did his best to feel thankful over that and ignore the hard feeling in the pit of his stomach that had been sitting there since Karl had left. I don’t fucking need you. The words ran through his mind again, and he shook his head as if to physically remove them. Okay, don’t think about that. Don’t think about that. Think abut *anything* but Karl. Don’t think about the way his skin feels under your hands, the way the sun catches highlights in his dark hair, the way his mouth feels against yours….this was not working. Craig was grateful when the kettle started whistling, and poured the water over the teabag, letting it steep for a few minutes, before fishing it out.

            He took his tea and sat down at the table, looking through yesterday’s newspaper. He covered his mouth as he yawned. He couldn’t concentrate on anything in the paper. Everything in it was depressing. People getting killed, natural disasters. Not really the something he needed to get Karl off his mind. Craig folded the newspaper back together, Karl had always used to make fun of the way Craig always folded the newspaper up when he was done with it. Even if it was going directly into the recycling, Craig always lined all the pages up neatly. And poof, his thoughts were back to Karl. Craig mentally slapped himself. This whole don’t think about Karl thing really wasn’t very successful. Craig picked up his half empty cup, and moved back to the living room, settling himself on the couch amid the disarray of the blankets that he had yet to clean up. Eh, well, there wasn’t much point in that, as he was probably going to end up sleeping on the couch again tonight anyways. He couldn’t stand to sleep in that bed and be able to smell Karl. He’d have to change the sheets. Yet somehow he couldn’t stand to do that just yet, because no matter how much it pained him to be reminded of everything, Craig couldn’t bear to let that go just yet. It made things seem too final, and Craig wasn’t ready yet to accept that Karl wasn’t coming back. Ever.

            Craig grabbed the remote control off the coffee table. His eyes glided over the book he hadn’t been able to concentrate on last night. Pushing it from his mind, he flicked the television on. A little mindless entertainment would be good right about now. Anything to fill up the silence of the house that seemed to somehow echo through the house, wearing on Craig’s nerves. Before now, he’d never known that nothing could be so annoying. He surfed over the channels until he found something that looked at least mildly interesting, and leaned back into the comfort of the couch.

            He was jerked out of his reverie by a sudden knocking at the door. Craig glanced at the television, contemplating whether or not to answer, but then decided that he should. If this would get Karl out of his mind for at least a little while, then it was worth it. He padded down the hallway, and pulled the door open. At first he thought his thoughts had manifested themselves into the vision in front of him. Nope, this was real. Karl stood there, right in front of him. Craig didn’t know what to say. Karl spoke first, his voice a little breathless, ‘I need to talk to you. Can I come in?’ he asked.

            Craig looked at Karl, really looked at him, this beautiful man he loved so much, and who’d hurt him so badly. Then without a word, he closed the door in Karl’s face.

End of Part 1