Author's notes: thank you very much to those who reviewed and added me to my favourite :) You made my day! Please let me know what you think! This is the final chapter, so I'd love to hear what you thought of the story. I've vaguely written something of a sequel, I may post it if anyone's interested. Sorry for the delay in updating, I just finished an 80-page archaeological field work report!

Warnings: Slash (not graphic, in any way, though. Just romantic, aww :P), self-mutilation (borderline graphic), suicidal thoughts, passing mentions of childhood physical/emotional abuse, and other heavy, angsty themes. And there is some swearing, hopefully nothing too offensive.

Disclaimer: Sadly, they're not mine. Oh the fun I'd have if they were. No profit is being made (also sad, but true), but Bruckheimer deserves it for giving us such an awesome imaginative playground.

When it became apparent that the silence into which the two lovers had lapsed was not going to be broken by the blonde, Nick cleared his throat gently, willing the younger man to meet his piercing gaze.

"Hey, look at me sweetheart. What... how bad are we talking?"

Greg gave another short, barking laugh, closing his eyes for a moment, seeking composure that he knew he would not find. His companion swallowed convulsively, knowing the answer, dreading it, but needing to hear it all the same. Nick knew that to get past this, to begin to move on, they needed to clear the air, burn away the shadows of the past that haunted his boyfriend's eyes, his mind, his every move.

"I started, uh, this," Greg gestured vaguely at the bandages, "when I was about… 12, I guess? Things, well, they pretty much went downhill from there."

"Jesus, Greggo," Nick breathed. "12? That's, you were so young, why'd you do it?"

The DNA expert's head snapped upwards, and the fear of being dismissed and disregarded resurfaced, reflected in his bright brown eyes. His perceptive partner, quickly reading the expression and realising how the insecure young man must have interpreted the comment, clarified;

"I just want to understand why, why then, why now. I know you don't get upset over nothing, and if it upsets you, then hell, I need to know," he emphasised the soft words with an equally gentle squeeze of the slender hand that he held. Greg nodded slowly in comprehension.

"Hey, I know I didn't live on the streets or anything, I had a house to live in and food to eat, sometimes wonder if it was worth it," he trailed off and ducked his head. "Sorry, uh, would you believe me if I said I didn't mean to say that last part out loud?"

Again trapped under that penetrating gaze, Greg obeyed the unspoken command to expand on his mumbled comment.

"It's no biggy, I mean, God, we see much worse in our line of work, hey? Few broken bones, some bruises, nothing… nothing…" he stopped again, and Nick's concern grew as his boyfriend's emotions once again rapidly shifted gears, moving from depressed self-dismissal to barely-contained anger. "I don't even need people to tell me my problems are insignificant anymore, I do it for them!"

He took a deep breath, glancing up at Nick's concerned countenance, before visibly forcing himself to relax a little.

"Sorry, there I go again. Anyway, uh, you asked why? That's why, there was just so much shit, on all fronts, at school, at home, in my head… everyone took their anger, frustration, disappointment, insecurities, whatever, out on me, and then told me to suck it up. To be what they couldn't, to hold it all inside. So I guess I took it out on the only person I could, the only way I could…"

"On yourself."

The sadness in Nick's voice made Greg want to take it all back, made him almost wish he hadn't said anything… until it registered, in the back of his depression-mired mind, that there had been the unmistakable sound of understanding in those two simple words.

Understanding that was present – both in tone and in the very meaning behind the words - in his lover's carefully chosen continuation.

"So this, what happened tonight… All the pressure just build up, huh sweetheart?"

No recrimination, no application of guilt, just simple statement of fact; Greg felt a burning in his throat and eyes at the soft, caring manner in which Nick drew out the story.

"Yeah… What with the way things have been going with people at work, and… all this shit in my head, that shouldn't be there. God, I'm so happy with you, I love you so much, and I still think about how easy that final step would be, and it won't go away, and I just don't know what's wrong with me that – "

Nick's eyes widened as he realised the implications of Greg's ramble of self-loathing, the deeper, darker secret lurking beneath all this.

"Woah, back up for a second there, Greggo," it took all of his self-restraint to broach the subject sensitively, instead of grabbing the younger man by the shoulders and shaking him. "The final step? As in…"

He couldn't say it. The very thought of it…

Greg gasped out a sound that was equal parts laugh and sob, then bit his bottom lip to prevent more of the same escaping.

"Please… please don't think I don't love you, I do. That's what makes it, makes me, so stupid. Things now, with you, God, this is the best my life has ever been, so… why am I still like this? I want it all to go away, I want to just be able to enjoy what we have, but I'm starting to think that I'm just fucked, I don't deserve this, that something has to happen, because there's no such thing as happiness. I feel alone and it's stupid, because, intellectually, I know you're always here… And now I hate myself because I still just want to die, even though you're the best thing that ever happened to me, Nicholas Stokes."

At this final declaration, Greg raised his head, at last meeting Nick's imploring, intense gaze. He held the stare, even as the tears finally rose in his dark eyes (though maybe that darkness is lifting, just a little, Nick wondered), his slender fingers turning white as he held on to his salvation, his saviour, his soulmate.

"I'm drowning, and the pain is the only thing that keeps me from going under. It seems like I'm alone in this fucking fog in my head, and I'm afraid… of myself, and… God, I'm so afraid that I'll lose you."

He choked as the darkness, and the fear, and the doubt, and the frailty, rushed from him in a torrent of despair, cracking his voice as it broke through his remaining shields; exposing him as the tired, scared little boy he was, hidden beneath a shell of flippancy and humour.

The instant that Nick heard the crack in his voice, he felt his own heart break in tandem, and he was instantly beside Greg on the soft leather couch, pulling the broken man before him into a secure embrace.

"You're not alone, and I'm not going anywhere. You hear me?"

The Texan felt the folds of his shirt being clenched between tense fingers; felt the slow spread of warm tears against his chest. He tightened his grasp, needing to reassure himself that the fragile man he cradled lovingly had not yet disappeared, unashamedly letting the tears fall from his own eyes as he reflected on how close he had come to losing the most important thing he'd ever had.

And that he might not have known until it was too late.

Nick swallowed hard as his imagination provided him with play-by-play accounts of the other ways in which he could have discovered Greg's suicidal thoughts… and they all ended the same. Lips pressed to the blonde head resting against his shoulder, he voiced his concerns.

"G… I can't lose you. We need to help you, get you help, whatever you need, just promise me I'm not going to come home and – and find you cold, in a pool of your own blood," unwelcome visions of that exact scene, from earlier in the night, flashed in Nick's mind's eye, "promise me that you won't push me out again, that you'll let me help, that you'll try."

Greg sniffled quietly, before nodding against Nick's tear-stained chest.

"I promise… I just don't know how to begin, I don't know how else to be. I've been this way for so long now, inflicting one kind of pain to keep the rest under control –" he looked up at his lover, eyes large and painfully revealing.

"I don't know what else to do."

The older man smiled gently, for what felt like the first time in a thousand years, looking down at the love of his life, seeing the man he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, the beautiful creature that he'd almost lost.

"You come to me, Greggo. We'll figure this out, together."

They welcomed the new day with a long, passionate kiss, their lips meeting as the sun crept over the horizon of the Nevada desert. And, as far back as either man could remember, they had never seen a more beautiful sunrise.