Coming Down
by Surreal
Feedback: surreal666@hotmail.com
Category: Post-Pilot tag
Spoilers:  Pilot
Rating:  R for language
Pairing:  Langly/Byers.  Always Langly/Byers.  Will always BE 
Langly/Byers.
Archive:  LGM Mailing list, Unusual Suspects
Disclaimer:  *Sigh*  Again, not mine.
Summery:  When the adrenaline wears off and reality sets in.


********

2:14am

Langly rolled over, searching for his partner in his sleep.  When he 
ended up with only a handful of empty sheets, he woke abruptly.  
"Wha..." he grunted, rubbing his half-open eyes with a limp hand.
Tumbling out of bed, he pulled on a pair of sweatpants from the 
floor and set out in search of his absent bedmate.

Stumbling in blurry half-consciousness, he adjusted his glasses and
finally spotted a faint glow coming from between the crowded stacks.
He could recognize the pale blue light of a computer screen anywhere.
"John?"  he called out softly in a rough, exhausted voice.

He saw Byers wearily glance over at him, the older man waving a hand
vaguely in his general direction.  Langly walked toward him.  "Hey, man.
What are you doing?  Thought you were tired..." he asked, his voice
trailing off as he noticed the sharp glint of light reflecting off the 
bottle of JB sitting in front of Byers.  

Sighing inwardly, he knew he was in for a hell of a talk.  On the rare
occasions when Byers did drink, he did it not to ease the pain or to
forget.  He did it to break his own barriers, allowing himself to let go
and rationalize his own actions.  It was his way of letting himself loose. 
Langly pulled up a stool and prepared himself for the ride.

"So."

Byers snorted, downing the last of his shot in one bitter swallow.  "So."

Langly remained quiet, letting the other man go at his own pace.

""Hell of a week, huh?"  Byers finally continued, shooting him a brief
glance.  His expression was remarkably neutral considering his state.
Only the bright flash of pain in his expressive blue eyes gave away
his emotions.  

"Yeah," the younger man sighed carefully, his hand resting absently 
on Byers' arm, half to keep the other man from reaching for the bottle 
again, and half to reassure himself of his presence.  "So...you couldn't
sleep, so you decided to get drunk instead?"

Byers sighed.  "Something like that," he mumbled, scrubbing a hand 
over his face, then resting his chin on his palm.

"Come on, John.  Talk to me here."

Shaking his head slowly, the older man sighed.  Langly felt the arm
under his hand start to tremble and he stroked it soothingly.  "It's 
okay, man.  I'm right here, talk to me."

"I just--" Byers started, his body tensing, still refusing to meet the
other man's eyes.  "In less than a week I lose my dignity, my father...
then I get him back only to realize I wish I didn't.  I--I almost wish
he'd stayed dead.  Then I wouldn't have to face just how little I
mean to him."  He was impressed at how calm his voice sounded as 
he spoke.

Still, Langly knew him too well and could hear the hurt, the betrayal
in his lover's words.  He had never really known how much Byers 
depended upon his father's approval.  It made his chest ache to
hear the older man vocalize his deep, painful resentment.  "John--"

"Don't.  Don't start with me, Langly,"  Byers cut him off sharply, 
jumping to his feet and starting to pace.

Stunned into silence, Langly could only watch and wait.

Byers glanced at him again, this time more apology than annoyance.
"Sorry...sorry," he muttered, turning his back again.  "It's just been
a really shitty day."

"I know,"  Langly replied, almost too softly for the other man to 
hear.  But Byers caught it, let it sink in.  Realized he wasn't the
only one going through what he'd been through.  

Ever since he had gotten the call about his father, Byers had
closed himself off, only bothering with his friends long enough
to issue orders. It wasn't until now, hearing the pain in the 
younger man's voice that he remembered how much the other
two had done to help him through all of this.

He frowned, remembering suddenly the anguish he'd heard in
Langly's voice as the plane they were trying to save came close
to its demise.  When he almost came to *his* demise, with the
person who meant the most to him in the world was on the other
end of the phone line, pleading for his safety.  Only seconds 
before Frohike came through with the chip, Byers had heard
the ghostly soft words that barely made it through the line;
"...love you, John...please don't leave without knowing that."

And knowing that with his father standing right there, he 
couldn't return the pledge of affection, or assure his lover
that he understood.  Byers had never replied at all, because
it was only a few seconds later that Frohike had saved all
their lives.  

Turning back around, Byers caught Langly's eye and was finally
able to smile.  Langly frowned at him curiously, still waiting
to be yelled at some more.  

Swallowing his previous, misplaced anger, Byers walked back
toward Langly and wrapped his arms around him, squeezing a
startled grunt from the younger man.  "'M sorry," he mumbled,
his lips pressed close to Langly's neck.  

Langly tightened his hold on his friend.  "Nothing to be sorry
about, love.  I shouldn't have tried to push you before you
were ready."

Byers sighed, his breath against Langly's skin making the younger
man shiver.  "No, I'm sorry I didn't let you.  You did so much for
me today and I treated you like shit."  He pulled back a little,
just far enough so he could brush his lips against Langly's.  "And
I did hear you, on the plane.  I just...my father was standing right
there..." he shrugged, feeling guilty.

"I know, I understand.  I wasn't expecting you to say anything
back,"  Langly leaned in to kiss him gently.  “And you forgot 
something.  I almost lost you.”

The older man hugged him close again, then pulled him to his
feet.  "Yeah, well...I do love you, you know.  Nothing will change
that, not death...hell, not even my father.”

This time Langly smiled.  "Yeah, I know.  And now, you're coming
back to bed and staying there.  You've got to sleep off all that 
whiskey you downed."

"Actually, I only had two shots.  One for me, and one for you."

***************

End.