Hegira
By Kalimyre
Rating: R
Pairing: Not really any, maybe a touch of Ry/Col implied
Author's Notes: This is in response to bk's challenge. It's a light Stargate SG1 crossover (very, very light) and it's also pretty mushy. At least, our favorite guys do a lot of hugging, crying, and saying soppy things to each other. Does that qualify as mush? This story is unbetaed, and therefore, if it's bad, blame me.

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"Is Ryan here?"

Drew and Wayne looked up briefly, glanced at Colin, and shook their heads. Wayne offered the Canadian one of his blindingly bright, irritatingly perfect smiles, and then turned back to the planned line- up for that evening's taping. He looked like a college student cramming before a test, his eyes flicking back and forth across the paper in his hands, hunched over on the green room couch in a way that an older man wouldn't have been able to pull off. Beside him, Drew was impatiently pressing buttons on his cell phone, looking harried. Only Greg took the time to actually look at Colin.

"Hey, man... are you all right?"

Colin blinked at him, lifting his glasses to rub briefly at the bridge of his nose. He was noticeably pale, and behind the glasses, his eyes were red rimmed and underlined with dark circles. The glasses made him look older, and somehow weaker. He seemed to be swaying subtly, like a man standing on the deck of a barely moving ship.

"Sure," he said flatly. "I'm fine. Do you know where Ryan is?"

Quirking an eyebrow, Greg leaned forward slightly in his seat. He'd been looking for a distraction so he wouldn't feel quite so annoyed with Wayne for quietly and studiously preparing for the taping while Greg himself sat back, smoked, and felt like a lazy old man, and Colin had come along with perfect timing.

"He's around here somewhere," Greg replied slowly. "Why don't you sit down for a minute? You look like shit."

Colin's lips tightened. "Thanks," he muttered, shifting his gaze to the side. He made no move to join Greg in the green room, but hovered in the doorway, one hand tightly wrapped around the jamb. It was hard to tell, because he was so uniformly pale, but Greg thought his knuckles were white.

"Seriously, Colin." Greg was frowning, his eyes narrowed, trying to catch the other man's eye. Across the room, Drew abruptly started speaking into his cell phone, something soothing and pleading at the same time, and Greg smirked in spite of his current worry. Sounded like the Drewster had managed to piss off one of his girlfriends again.

"Seriously, Greg," Colin replied evenly, "I just need to find Ryan."

"Well, you found him," came a voice from behind, and Colin turned quickly enough to qualify as a perfect, snap-to about face. Ryan was behind him in the doorway, then sidling past him, Colin automatically shifting to let him pass. The taller man grinned, tilted his head to one side, and said, "Hey, Col, good to see you again."

Colin nodded mutely, staring up at Ryan. His eyes seemed very big, even with the impediment of glasses instead of his usual contacts. The smile dropped off Ryan's face.

"Colin? You look like hell."

Instead of the irritated look and sarcastic `thanks' that Greg had received for much the same comment, Ryan got a slight upward tilt of the lips, and a softening of the eyes. "Gee, thanks," Colin retorted, but the words were rubbed velvet, without their earlier edge.

"Is something---" Ryan began, but never got to finish. Colin suddenly took two strides forward, slamming into him like a football linebacker, pinning him against the wall, his face buried against Ryan's neck and his arms tight-tight around the other man's waist. Ryan's eyebrows shot up as he slowly returned the embrace.

"Um... Colin?" he asked softly, trying to lift his friend's head without success. Colin was clinging like a shy child on the first day of kindergarten, and Greg could see him shaking from across the room. He could also see that this little drama had the attention of Wayne and Drew as well. Ryan looked at all of them over Colin's shoulder, his expression clearly asking `what the hell is going on?'

"Is he all right?" Wayne asked, half-rising from his seat as if he could do something. Ryan shot him a look that said he wasn't dignifying that question with a reply. Wayne sat back down.

"He was fine before," Drew began, perhaps wanting to duck the blame before Ryan could whirl on him and ask what the hell he had said to Colin this time. Not that Drew made a habit of reducing their friend to quivering jello with harsh words or thoughtless acts---he did dumb things sometimes, but Colin generally let it roll right off his back.

Colin pulled back as suddenly as he had approached, retreated to a more breathable distance of about six inches, and glanced sheepishly up at Ryan. "Sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to... y'know. Jump on you like that."

"It's okay," Ryan replied automatically. Colin's arms were still linked around his waist, one hand splayed against his lower back, the other curled up and cupping his left shoulder blade. Ryan kept his own hands lightly pressed to Colin's sides, squeezing gently, trying to still the trembling he felt beneath his palms. "Um... you want to tell me what's going on?"

Darting a quick look over his shoulder at their gaping audience, Colin ducked his head, hunching his shoulders. "Can we..."

"Yeah," Ryan said easily. "My dressing room..."

"Just down the hall," Colin finished. "Okay."

Colin began to lead them from the room, and then paused on the threshold, looking back at his fellow performers with embarrassed impatience. An expression that said `I know I should feel bad about totally shutting you guys out, but I'm really not in the mood to deal with politeness right now.'

"I..." he started, lifting one hand. The other was still firmly linked around Ryan's waist. He stared blankly at them for a long moment, his mouth still open, and then he shut it with a snap, shrugged, and walked out without another word.

"Colin?" Ryan murmured inquisitively as they shuffled down the hall. The older man was tugging at him, his head down, speed-walking like he was trying to set some kind of record.

"In your dressing room," Colin insisted.

Shrugging, Ryan kept silent and let his friend sweep them into the little dressing room. The moment the door was shut behind them, Colin pinned him against it, pressing his face against the taller man's chest, his arms crushingly tight around Ryan's ribs.

"Okay," Ryan said, patting awkwardly at the other man's back. "Easy, Col... much tighter and I'm gonna pass out from oxygen deprivation, here. What's going on?"

Colin made a negative sound in his throat---"nuh-uh"---and rubbed his cheek along Ryan's collarbone. His breathing was rough, uneven, long shuddering gasps punctuated by shorter, catch-in-your-throat noises that sounded rather suspiciously like sobs. Sighing, Ryan resigned himself to bruised ribs and stroked his hands up and down Colin's spine, waiting for him to calm down.

After what seemed like a long time but was probably only about ten minutes, Colin's breathing settled, and his shaking eased off to more controllable tremors. His frantic-tight grip on Ryan loosened somewhat, but turned to iron when Ryan tried to back up a little.

"Thanks," Colin murmured into Ryan's neck. "I can't even tell you how much I needed that."

"I think I can guess," Ryan replied dryly. "Didn't know you were so damn strong, Col. So, am I just your personal teddy bear, or are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

Colin laughed softly, as he was meant to, and the hard line of his shoulders eased just a little more. "I'm going to tell you," he said. "Fair warning, though---it's not pretty."

"And here I thought it was going to be a lovely, detailed account of the rainbow you saw out the window while your plane was landing this morning." Ryan smiled when the shorter man laughed again, nudging Ryan with his shoulder in that affectionate, tolerant, `oh, you' way he had.

"How do you always know what to say?"

Ryan grinned. "Years of practice. So give---what's this not pretty thing?"

Sighing heavily, Colin leaned against him, allowing his head to fall into the natural cup formed where Ryan's shoulder met his neck. "Okay," he began. "You remember Jack O'Neill?"

"Sure," Ryan said after a brief pause to place the name. "Didn't we work with him in Second City?"

Colin nodded. "Yeah, and he lives in Toronto. We got back in touch when we found out that his son is in the same class at school as Luke, and our families have become friends. We hang out together, the boys take turns sleeping over, barbecues, you know, stuff like that."

"Okay," Ryan said, clearly waiting for the point.

"Okay," Colin echoed. "So, anyway, about... what day is it? Monday?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "Saturday, Col. You know we tape the show on weekends."

"Right. I just... only Saturday? That means it's only been four days since... damn. Time flies when you're having fun," he added bitterly.

"Four days since what?"

"Since..." Colin shivered, his throat clicking dryly as he swallowed. "Since we were over at their house, playing a little cards, basically just sitting around talking, while the boys played upstairs. Jack and Sarah, and their son, Charlie." His voice caught just a little on the last name, and Ryan tightened his arms without really thinking about it. Colin didn't object.

"Right, so, Jack's in the Air Force now---the Canadian version---and apparently he keeps a gun in the house." Ryan felt his back stiffen, and he closed his eyes briefly, hoping this wasn't going where he thought it was going. "I guess the boys found it," Colin said, "and they were playing around---"

"Is Luke okay?" Ryan blurted out, a little startled at how high his voice sounded---thin and reedy, like an old man.

"Luke's okay," Colin said, nodding. "He wasn't hurt at all, thank God. But Charlie... we were talking downstairs when we heard the gun go off."

Ryan cringed just a little. "Oh, God..." he muttered.

"Yeah," Colin agreed softly. "I don't know what the *hell* Jack was thinking, keeping a loaded handgun in a house with a ten-year-old son, but when we ran up there... I swear it was like a scene out of a horror movie. Red, everywhere. Lots of red. Charlie, in the middle of the room, kind of keeled over in a little pile, and Luke, backed up against the wall, white as a sheet except for the red. The gun was lying on the floor by Charlie, and I think Luke was staring at it, but it was hard to tell. His hands were in his mouth, his eyes were swallowing up his whole face, and he was making this kind of `nuh-nuh-nuh' sound, but then Sarah started screaming and I couldn't hear him anymore."

Colin shuddered, tugging down the collar of Ryan's shirt so he could lay his cheek against the skin and taking deep, ragged breaths. Ryan let him do it---he was concentrating on *not* picturing the scene Colin had just described.

"Then everything just went crazy," Colin said, his words slightly muffled as he tried to burrow inside Ryan's skin. "When Sarah started screaming, Deb started in too, and she ran to Luke, patting him all over, trying to clean the blood off, isn't that nuts? Like that would help. Sarah was just... I swear I can still hear her. I thought she was going to tear her throat up shrieking like that, not even words, just this huge, high, drive your ears six feet into your head, wailing noise. She lifted Charlie up, and... oh God, and a lot of his head didn't come with him."

Colin broke off then, making a low moaning noise, his chest starting to hitch. Ryan could feel shaking again, but he wasn't sure if it was his or Colin's. Maybe both. Hell, probably both.

"Colin..."

"Let me tell it," Colin said fiercely. "Please, Deb doesn't want to talk about it, if I even *start* to bring it up she gets so mad and I *need* to talk about this, please..."

"Okay," Ryan whispered. His voice didn't seem to be working properly at the moment. "Okay, Col, talk. I'm listening."

Those seemed to be the magic words, because Colin relaxed tangibly, slumping against his chest and letting out a huge, rasping breath. "Thank you," he murmured. "I know this is hard to hear---"

"Harder to tell," Ryan said. "Come on, I'm right here, tell me."

Colin sighed again, this time slower, deeper, and his shaking eased. "Okay. Jack and I were just kind of standing like zombies in the doorway, watching our wives flutter over our children, and I guess Deb figured out that while Luke was clearly in shock, none of the blood was his, and she calmed down a little. She started saying call a doctor, call 911 right now, and Sarah latched onto that. She was babbling it, shrieking it, screaming at Jack to `call, call, right now dammit, call, don't just stand there while your son dies, you son of a bitch!' Over and over again, and Deb went right back to patting Luke all over, touching him, making *sure* he wasn't hurt, and ignoring Sarah. I never realized maternal instincts could be so... cold."

Ryan nodded. "Don't mess with a mother bear," he said grimly.

"Yeah, that's about right. But if Deb was cold, then Jack was downright *glacial.* He walked right over to Sarah and slapped her across the face, hard, and she stopped shrieking. Then he said, totally calm, `he's already dead, can't you see that? Point blank shot to the head, he's gone.' His voice was just... dead. That's the only word for it. Sarah didn't say anything, but she held Charlie tight against her, getting her shirt all red, in her hair, sticky strings of it, but she didn't care. Then Deb spoke up, cold, commanding, telling Jack he better damn well call 911 because Luke was in shock, and he might be hurt, and when Jack didn't respond she turned to me." Colin shivered again, the fine hairs on the nape of his neck rising to prickly little points. "I've known the woman for nearly as long as I've known you, Ry, but she was a stranger right then. I think if I'd refused to make the call, she would have attacked me."

"I'm guessing you made the call."

Colin laughed---a short, humorless sound. "You better believe it. I wanted to get the hell out of that red room anyway. I wanted to touch Luke even more, to feel him breathing for myself, but the way Deb was looking at me... I thought I better not try to get close. I've never been afraid of her in my life, y'know? Never. I didn't think I could be. Shows how much I know."

"So was Luke all right?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah, physically, he was fine. I mean, there was shock, and they ended up giving him an IV to keep him hydrated for a little while, and I think some kind of tranquilizer, but he wasn't hurt. They, ah... apparently, in cases involving guns, they check for powder burns on the hands." Colin fell conspicuously silent, and Ryan got a sick, sinking feeling in his stomach.

"And?" he prompted, tightening his arms a little so Colin would know... just so he would feel it.

"And there were burns on his hands, but not on Charlie's. He was holding the gun." Colin spoke as if he had been the one to pull the trigger, not his son. The weight of the guilt hung off every word, dripping like some heavy liquid metal.

Ryan closed his eyes again, swallowing. "Colin... it was an accident. You know Luke would never intentionally hurt anyone---"

"I know!" Colin cried. "I know, I know, but *he* doesn't know! He's... God, Ryan, he hasn't spoken a word since it happened. He has these screaming nightmares, and he won't talk about it, won't talk about anything, no matter how much we tell him it wasn't his fault. There was this social worker at the hospital, I guess she's someone they send in on... things like this. He's been meeting with her every day, and she's a trained psychiatrist, but he won't talk to her either. She tells us this period of withdrawal is normal, but I can't tell if it's true or she's just trying to make us feel better. Jack and Sarah aren't speaking to us... well, no, that's not exactly true."

"They're not blaming you, are they?" Ryan asked incredulously.

Colin snorted. "Blaming? Hell, yes. Accusing, furious, and under that so much pain that I can't be mad at them... Sarah caught me to one side at the hospital. They'd just confirmed about the powder burns on Luke's hands, and that he was otherwise unhurt, and they'd also confirmed that Charlie was... that he wasn't anymore. She came in all calm, gently tugging on my arm, asking if she could talk to me, and Deb still wasn't letting anyone but the doctors touch Luke, so I went with her. She stayed calm until we got into this little vending machine cubbyhole, and then she just went nuts. She was clawing at me... I swear she was trying to tear my throat out. And over and over, shrieking, `he killed my baby, that monster killed my baby, and it's all your fault!'"

"Jesus," Ryan muttered. "You know that's not true, right?"

"I know, but at the time... she was pretty damn sure of it, Ry, and that kind of absolute certainty is hard to argue with. And she was also *damn* strong. If some intern hadn't come along to help me I don't know what she would have done. Probably killed me, or as close as she could get to it with only her hands."

Ryan shook his head, lifting one hand to rub at the back of Colin's neck. Making an approving mutter in his throat, Colin dropped his head forward, sighing raggedly. "Deb blames me too," he said softly.

"What?" Ryan snapped, his jaw dropping.

"She blames me. Says Jack was *my* friend first, and I should have known that he'd be keeping a gun in the house. Apparently I'm supposed to research all my friends before I introduce them to my family." Colin's scoffing words did nothing to hide the underlying self-accusation in his voice. "She's gotten so incredibly protective of Luke... she won't let him out of her sight, and she doesn't want me anywhere near him. I want so badly to talk to him, to try and reach him, to... for God's sake, just to hug him and know he's all right, you know?"

"Easy," Ryan murmured when Colin's voice cracked. "She won't even let you touch him?"

Shaking his head, Colin burrowed a little closer, as if trying to make up for not being able to touch Luke by touching Ryan as much as physically possible. "I've tried to get her to talk to a psychiatrist too," he said. "She's in shock as much as Luke, she's just showing it differently. But if I even try to bring up *anything* about the whole mess she shuts me out so hard..."

"Colin..." Ryan rocked him for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. "You know you didn't have to come down for the taping, right? After something like that---"

"I wanted to come," Colin snapped suddenly. "God, I feel like a world-class shit for saying this, but I couldn't stand being around them anymore. I had to get away for a while. Watching Luke drift around the house like a white-faced, silent ghost, and Deb following him everywhere, touching him, fussing over him and glaring at me if I even act like I'm going to try and get near them... I've been sleeping in the guest bedroom. She's letting Luke sleep in the bed with her like when he was a baby, because of all his nightmares. But when I have nightmares I better keep my damn mouth shut and not wake him, or she'll be talking about it all day. Apologizing to him because his `inconsiderate selfish bastard of a father made all that noise last night.'"

Ryan winced. "She actually said that?"

"Yeah. That and plenty more. I know they need me right now, and I know I could have canceled on the taping, but if I had to spend one more night in that house biting my pillow to keep from yelling when I wake up from some awful dream, I think I would have gone nuts. And I..." Colin looked up through dark, spiky eyelashes at Ryan, and then pressed in against his neck again. "I really, *really* needed this. I knew I needed to talk to you, but when I saw you, all I wanted was this."

"You know it's always here for you," Ryan said softly. "You know I'm always here."

Colin smiled, and then sniffed audibly. Ryan gave him an indulgent look and cupped his jaw, his fingertips sifting through Colin's hair while his thumb wiped beneath the other man's eyes. "I bet you haven't done this since it happened," Ryan said.

"Done what?"

Lifting his hand, he showed Colin the moisture, and Colin blinked in surprise, quickly brining his own hand up to wipe his face. "Oh, shit," he muttered. "I didn't even know I was... sorry about that."

"Don't be sorry," Ryan replied easily. "I'm pretty sure you needed this too. Besides, you've seen me do it enough times."

"Mmmm..." Colin shrugged, ducking his head a little, but he leaned into the caress when Ryan's palm found his cheek again. "We should probably get ready for the taping, huh?" he asked.

Ryan raised his eyebrows. "The taping? Colin, you're in no shape to be going on stage. You're obviously exhausted, and I don't see how anyone could expect you to be funny with the week you've had."

"You went on once when you were sick and your back was killing you," Colin pointed out.

"Yeah, and I sucked, and I was miserable. Don't put yourself through that. Dan can just find someone to replace you temporarily, and the show will go on."

Colin looked up at him slyly. "Without me?"

"We'll manage somehow," Ryan said with a wry grin. "Meanwhile, you can crash out on the couch in here, and when the taping is over, you're coming home with me. And if you happen to wake up in the middle of the night at my house, feel free to make noise. I'll be there."

"Ryan..." Colin trailed off and smiled, nodding. He didn't need to say anything---that was the beauty of it.

"Hey, is everything all right?" Drew called from outside, his voice accompanied by his light rapping on the door. Colin and Ryan exchanged a long look and then identical pained smiles.

"Come in," Colin sighed, reluctantly stepping back and disentangling himself from Ryan. They both cleared the space in front of the door.

Not only Drew, but Greg and Wayne were hovering in the hallway, and when the door swung open, they all focused on Colin. He took another step back, wiping self-consciously at his face and ducking their gazes. Ryan slid to the left, subtly placing himself between Colin and the other performers. Colin rolled his eyes.

"Yes?" Ryan asked pointedly.

"We just wanted to see if Colin was okay," Drew said. "Is he?"

"He's fine," Colin replied dryly. "And he's also in the room and quite capable of speaking for himself."

The others exchanged a brief, uncomfortable look. "Are you doing the taping?" Greg asked, slipping through the door and trying to get a closer look at Colin. Ryan blocked him until Colin, smiling, gently steered him to one side.

"They're not going to bite me, Ry," he said calmly. "And yes, I'm doing the taping."

"Colin---"

"Hush," he said, putting a hand up in Ryan's direction. "I came down here for the show, and I'm going to do it." At Ryan's obvious concern, his expression softened, and he sighed. "Look... it's the normal thing, okay? I just want to do the normal thing and forget... all that other stuff for a while. I'll be fine."

"What other stuff?" Wayne asked, earning a rather narrow look from Ryan.

"Never mind," Colin said dismissively. "Just some stuff."

"Stuff that he's fine with," Ryan added, a slip of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Let's not say stuff anymore," Colin shot back, his eyes dancing.

"Um... yeah," Drew drawled. "I guess you're as close to normal as you two ever get. So maybe you could get your asses down to wardrobe? I think we have a show to do."

"Sure," Ryan said. "If you could just give us one more minute..."

"Fine, fine," Greg huffed dramatically. "We just wanted to make sure Colin was all right, but if you're just going to shoo us out..."

Ryan rolled his eyes; Colin patted Greg on the shoulder and smiling winningly. "I'm fine," he insisted. "But thanks."

Greg's show of taking offense melted as quickly as he had summoned it, and he lifted one shoulder in a sheepish half shrug. "Sure, Col. Any time." Then he followed the other two out, his eyes lingering for the moment on the way the lights glittered in the moisture beneath Colin's eyes. Colin wiped his face again, still offering that reassuring, `everything's fine' smile. The expression dropped off his face the moment the door closed again, and he sagged, putting a hand to his forehead.

"Colin, are you---"

"I'm sure." Colin gave Ryan a smile, tired but genuine. "Isn't laughter the best medicine?"

"I think sleep would do you more good," Ryan said sternly.

"I'll get that later. The offer to stay with you still stands, right?"

Ryan nodded. "Of course it does. Provided you don't sneak into bed with me in the middle of the night."

"Better if I just start out there," Colin said. Ryan blinked at him, and he looked away, shrugging. "Um... really. If that's okay. I would sleep about a million times better."

"Okay," Ryan said slowly. "Sure, if it makes you feel better. Are you really sure about the taping?"

"I'm really sure." Colin leaned into him again, unable to resist one more time. "Besides, I don't want to lay here in the dressing room by myself, not sleeping," he added, murmuring the words into Ryan's chest.

Ryan smiled down at him, allowing his hand to find its way back into Colin's hair. It was baby fine, thin and wispy at the upper fringe. "Then come on."

"I'm such a baby," Colin said sheepishly, still not pulling away from Ryan's arms. "Every time something bad happens, I come running to you."

"You're exaggerating. And besides..." He trailed off, a flush rising to his cheeks. Colin lifted his head and looked Ryan in the eyes, patient, waiting, without a trace of laughter. "Besides," Ryan said again, his voice a little stronger. "You know you can always run to me, right?"

Colin smiled. "I know. That's why I always do."



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Finis

May 8 to 9, 2003