Two Slaves 18/18 (Complete)
Title: Two Slaves 18/18
Words: Approx 3100
Rating : R
Characters : House/Wilson, Foreman/Cuddy
Contains : Slavery AU, corporal punishment of various kinds, some Master/slave non-con (not explicit). Dark! versions of all characters except House & Wilson.
Summary : Greg has been owned by Doctor Cuddy for a long time, he's settled into a routine but his world is disrupted by the arrival of Doctor Foreman, and his new slave - Jimmy. With their masters working closely together on redesigning the hospital the two slaves find themselves thrown together as well.
Previous part
The opening of the new wing - and the relaunch of a totally revamped Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital - was the next day. All the arrangements were in place, including the arrival of a television film crew to make a documentary set about the hospital. Edward Vogler's name has been erased from all promotional material as if it had never existed and that incident was now becoming part of hospital legend rather than an ongoing source of gossip. Cuddy was pleased and she smiled at Foreman as she signed off on the schedule of events for the next day.
"Congratulations, Eric, I couldn't have done it without you."
He smiled back, relaxed and comfortable as he sat across the desk from her. This was why he had been hired, and she was sincere with what she had said, she and Eric had worked smoothly together. Finding love, and a life with him, was an added bonus.
She was about to suggest they leave for the day when she noticed him through the office doors. Jimmy, no , James , Foreman's former slave.
She'd expected to see him long before this, making some pathetic effort to buy Greg, and when he hadn't appeared she'd reasoned that he had returned to Canada, or gone anywhere that was far from the place where he'd been a slave. He'd probably forgotten about Greg as soon as he became a free man. After all it was only chance that had brought them together.
It was the worst timing that brought him here now, on the eve of the climax to all their work over the past year.
She glanced at Greg and saw that his gaze was fixed on the man approaching the office. He even took a step towards the door.
"Greg, stay," she commanded and he took another step but then stopped, his eyes still locked on the approaching man.
James opened the office door without bothering to knock and she stood up, Foreman joining her.
He looked different. He'd put on a little weight, but the biggest difference was in his clothing. Foreman had always had him smartly turned out, in business shirts and dress pants - attire similar to his own. Now he was wearing casual clothes, not scruffy, but not with the crispness of Foreman's wardrobe. Where before he'd always been kept clean shaven, now he had stubble, and a wispy moustache. His hair was shorter, cut in a no-nonsense way, rather than the precise styling that Foreman had favoured.
As he came towards her she saw another difference, he walked taller and with more confidence. His eyes met hers openly; he didn't stare at the ground. He didn't offer his hand to either her or Foreman, but gave Greg a warm smile and a nod.
"Hi, Greg," he said. "It's been a while."
"James," Cuddy cut in, before Greg could start a conversation. "We were just leaving for the day, what can we do for you?"
James stopped smiling and focused his attention on her.
"So, we're not going to bother with pleasantries? Good. You know why I'm here."
"I assume you have some quixotic notion of buying Greg from me." She shrugged. "Sorry, he's not for sale at any price."
James laughed softly. "Oh, I don't want to buy him - he’s a human being, not a piece of furniture. You're going to free him."
There was a moment of silence and then Cuddy shook her head.
"I said he's not for sale, and you think I'm just going to free him? That's absurd. He's been with me a long time, and he's been a slave since he was twelve. I doubt he would even know what to do if he were free."
"Oh, I think he could figure it out," James said with a wry grin. "I managed."
"Not very well if you think any of this is going to work. Now, like I said, we were just leaving. We have a big day tomorrow."
"Yes, I heard. Big opening of the new wing. A documentary being made. Television crews will be here. Lots of publicity. Funny thing, my story got out to the media - I'm sure you've heard."
Yes, there had been mentions in the news of an innocent man who'd been framed for murder and enslaved. The media hadn't released his name or any details but it had been apparent to both of them who it was.
"They can't identify me by name unless I agree to it. So far I haven't. I'm in contact with several high profile people who want my story. You know, the whole story of my time as a slave, how I was treated, what I did, who owned me. Things like that. The tabloids are particularly interested - they always like a good slave story."
Cuddy glanced at Foreman who was looking concerned. He was a proud man, the last thing he would want would be his name dragged through the tabloids.
"You were treated well here," Cuddy said.
"Opinions might differ on that. My ass certainly does."
"You were a slave. We, or the hospital, would hardly be condemned for treating a slave as a slave."
"No," Wilson agreed. "Although the public don't often have a chance to hear the real truth; what it actually means to be a slave. And the fact that I shouldn't have been a slave in the first place may incur some extra sympathy when I tell them how I was ordered to kneel at Foreman's feet every morning and blow him. The story about having to sleeping on an old blanket on the floor next to his washing machine would be good, or I could tell them about working fourteen or sixteen hours a day, every day."
He looked thoughtful. "Yes, I think I could do a lot with that, and I don't have much to lose at this stage. What I was really thinking of though was telling the general public and all those rich sponsors you have, about your 'Diagnostics Department'. I wonder what the medical board would make of an unlicensed Doctor, a slave at that, practicing medicine? What about all those journal articles, supposedly written by Doctor Chase, but actually written by Greg? If we go back further, I wonder how much help Greg provided you when you were going through medical school, Doctor Cuddy? How many papers did he write for you ?"
She followed his gaze to look at Greg who was still standing quietly behind the desk leaning heavily on his cane. Greg was openly grinning, obviously enjoying her discomfort. Then James focused his attention back on Cuddy.
"So, I can tell that story, tonight, to the cameras. Maybe I'll even cry a little - that usually works. How do you think tomorrow's event will go after that?"
Cuddy stared at him silently. He was right, of course, she couldn't allow Greg's unusual situation to come out. Not now, just when the hospital was expanding. The hospital would be badly damaged by another scandal, so soon after the Vogler one. And both she and Eric would be personally embarrassed by his allegations. He had a winning hand.
She looked at Foreman, and by the slump of his shoulders she could see he agreed. She was going to lose Greg - but maybe she could get something out of it.
"You can buy him - one million dollars. I'm sure you got more than that in compensation."
James smiled again, although there was nothing pleasant about his expression.
"Much more. I'm not buying him. I already told you what I want - Greg free, today - or I go to the media." He stared at her, not even pretending to be affable now.
All in , she thought, he's staking everything on this - and he's not bluffing . James was giving her no choice.
"It's unreasonable to expect me to virtually give such a valuable slave away."
"You've had twenty years work out of him; whatever your mother paid for him has been repaid many times over. Does your hospital's reputation rely that heavily on one slave?"
She leant back on the desk, pretending to think, but she was nearly out of options. She tried one last gambit.
"I haven't got time to do this now, I'll do it but I'll need a few days."
"No. This happens now, or it doesn't happen, and I go to the press."
She'd lost. If she didn't do this she'd lose him anyway - Greg would never settle down to work again after this, and if James followed through on his threat she could stand to lose a lot more. She looked at Foreman and he gave a little shrug and shook his head.
"Okay - I assume you have some sort of plan for this?"
"My car is outside; we'll go in that to the police station, they can do the paperwork. Doctor Foreman can come if he likes, but Greg rides up front with me."
She went to argue but shook her head, deciding against it, she just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. She had a big day tomorrow, and now, no slave to help.
________________________________________
Greg was reminded of that long ago day when his father dragged him to the slave trader's office to sell him. The bored police officer handed over sheafs of forms for Cuddy to initial and watched her while she did so. He explained to her that once this was done she couldn't change her mind and that the slave, Greg, would have all the rights of a free man. He asked her if she was being coerced in any way to take this step. She glanced up at James but then firmly said no.
Finally she was done signing and the police office gathered the papers back up, shuffling one to the top and handing it to her.
"Have him sign that, if he can. If not he can just make his mark. He's supposed to read it all but I've never met a slave yet who objected to being freed. Not that many are. You're very generous."
Greg almost snorted but a quick glance from James quieted him. James was watching everything carefully but Greg could see he was a ball of tension, despite his outwardly calm appearance.
Cuddy handed Greg the form and he glanced it over, and then quickly signed it. On a whim he used his full name, Gregory John House, writing it heavily.
"Okay, that's it. Congratulations." The officer said, taking the form back and barely glancing at Greg. "You're a free man." He looked at Cuddy. "You got the key to his collar?"
She fumbled in her purse and produced it, making a move towards him. James stepped forward and took it from her.
"I'll do it."
He came and stood behind Greg where he was sitting and laid a hand on the back of his neck. Brushing Greg's hair aside he quickly fitted the key to the lock at the back of the collar and removed it. He dropped the collar heavily on the table and ghosted his other hand along Greg's shoulder.
Greg stared at the leather object on the table. He'd worn a collar since he was twelve years old, when his father had put his first one on. He put a hand up to his throat, feeling the scarred tissue there. When he put his hand back down he noticed that it was shaking.
James came around in front of him and touched his own throat. "The marks fade in time. Come on, let's go."
When they made their way back out of the station Greg paused at the bottom of the steps. He had no idea what to do next. James came up next to him.
"I'm sure you can make your own way back to the hospital," he said to Cuddy. "Greg and I have a lot to catch up on."
Cuddy rolled her eyes at him but then looked at Greg.
"We can probably arrange for you to consult at PPTH. You might find you need some money. I'm there for you if you need me - we've known each other a long time after all. And it's not like any other hospital will employ you."
Greg almost laughed. He'd rather push a broom around for the rest of his life than go anywhere near that hospital again. If he didn't ever see Cuddy, or Foreman, again in his life he'd die a happy man.
"Come on, Greg. Let's go." James said, touching his hand lightly.
"Wait. There's something I've wanted to do for a while." Greg said, moving closer to him and slipping his arms around him. He touched his lips gently to James', a soft enquiry. James looked surprised and then grinned happily, answering the pressure with his own, and deepening the kiss, right there on the sidewalk in front of Foreman and Cuddy.
When they broke apart Greg looked back at Cuddy, who was staring at him, her eyes wide, frozen in place. Foreman looked like he was going to stroke out.
"Oh, you know the couch in the living room? You might wanna think about replacing that. That's where we used to do it every night while you were sleeping, and James can be a bit... passionate." Greg said with a smirk. “There were… leakages, if you know what I mean.”
He turned his back on them and headed towards the car, cane in his right hand, James on his left side, walking close enough that their shoulders brushed.
He didn't look back.
________________________________________
James had only driven a couple of blocks when they passed a park.
"Stop here." Greg said, staring out at the green space. "I need to ----"
He couldn't articulate what he needed but James didn't hesitate. He pulled the car up and they both got out. Greg limped slowly towards a picnic table in the centre of the park. Once there he sat on the wooden seat and stared out at the people busy enjoying the park.
"I used to sit on the roof of the hospital and look out onto this park. I used to imagine I was free." His fingers again went to his bare neck. James hand came up to cover his.
"You are free, now. Nothing can change that."
"I don't know if I know how to be free anymore."
James smiled ruefully. "It takes some getting used to, but it gets easier, and it sure as hell beats the alternative. People don't know… they don't appreciate what they have."
Greg looked at him, rolling his cane between his hands. "What have you been doing? Can they... did they give you your memory back?" He swallowed hard, if James remembered his old life now, maybe he would want to go back to it. Back to somebody like Holling. But he couldn't begrudge him getting those memories back - James had lost so much.
James ran a hand through his hair and stared into the distance. "I was in therapy for a while, intensive therapy. They tried to dig the memories back up. It's an experimental procedure - it's not like they've had a lot of practice reversing mind-wiping. It was hard, I'd just get bits and pieces of things, often the worse things, and those were the strongest memories. I couldn't make sense of it. Each therapy session left me more and more confused. I was physically ill after each session - I got migraines for days. In the end I stopped going. I have a little, now, maybe more will come back naturally - maybe it won't." He shrugged.
"Have you met your family?"
"Yes, my parents and one of my brothers. It was... okay. They seem like pleasant people. I don't really remember any of them so we don't have much in common. They were a little embarrassed - like they didn't know what to say. They didn't ask me what it was like being a slave at all."
James looked down at his hands, twisting them together.
"I'm sorry it took me so long to come and get you. I hope you didn't think I'd forgotten you. Every day I've been working towards this, planning for it - I couldn't take the risk of it failing. The event tomorrow was the perfect thing I needed to force Cuddy's hand. My compensation payment came through last month.”
“I knew you’d come,” Greg said, and he had. He’d never doubted James in all the months since, it was what had kept him going. He strove to lighten the mood that had suddenly become somber. "You had enough money and you still wanted me for free, you cheapskate.”
"I didn't want to buy you," James said simply. "It wouldn't have been right; I wanted Cuddy to free you. The money was just there as a back-up. If she'd called my bluff, it's all in a ready access account; I would have spent every cent to see you safe."
Greg laughed. "I wish I could tell Cuddy that, would love to see her face if she knew she could have had a shit load of cash for me, instead of nothing."
James grinned back. "I think you got your own revenge. Think they'll go straight home and burn that couch?"
"If I'd had some warning I would have left them a few nasty surprises."
Silence fell and Greg could feel the weight of the past settling over them.
"Come on, it’s going to be dark soon." James said, breaking the uneasy moment. Greg felt his stomach twist. He didn't know exactly where he stood. He was alone in this world, unlike James he didn't have any money, or any possessions except for the clothes on his back. He was on the wrong side of forty, crippled, in constant pain, and an ex-slave. People wouldn't be beating down his door to hire him.
James stood up but Greg kept sitting, his gaze on the horizon. James looked down at him, a little impatiently.
"Greg? I know it's a lot to adjust to but you can't sit here all day."
"Where are we going?"
"Home. It's about twenty minutes drive from here, I figured you wouldn't want to be right on top of the hospital."
" Your home."
"I'd like," James paused, swallowing nervously. "I'd like it to be our home but it doesn't have to be. Look, I know we were sort of thrown together. Maybe you'll feel differently now that you have the freedom to choose. I don't want you to feel pressured. The apartment has two bedrooms. You can stay as long as you want. Get your own feet under you. I have more than enough money, you can have half - you can go anywhere you want, live anywhere you want. I don't want you to feel like you don't have a choice. Not ever."
"But you still want to be with me?" Greg asked, his breath catching as he waited for the answer.
"Of course I do, you idiot. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives - if that is what you want. We can start fresh, Greg. We can start again from today. We can do anything we want to do." He held out his hand to Greg.
Greg took the hand and pushed himself to his feet. He looked around and took a deep breath of the fresh air. The sky was darkening but he could still see James clearly.
"Then let's go home."
~ End
Words: Approx 3100
Rating : R
Characters : House/Wilson, Foreman/Cuddy
Contains : Slavery AU, corporal punishment of various kinds, some Master/slave non-con (not explicit). Dark! versions of all characters except House & Wilson.
Summary : Greg has been owned by Doctor Cuddy for a long time, he's settled into a routine but his world is disrupted by the arrival of Doctor Foreman, and his new slave - Jimmy. With their masters working closely together on redesigning the hospital the two slaves find themselves thrown together as well.
Previous part
The opening of the new wing - and the relaunch of a totally revamped Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital - was the next day. All the arrangements were in place, including the arrival of a television film crew to make a documentary set about the hospital. Edward Vogler's name has been erased from all promotional material as if it had never existed and that incident was now becoming part of hospital legend rather than an ongoing source of gossip. Cuddy was pleased and she smiled at Foreman as she signed off on the schedule of events for the next day.
"Congratulations, Eric, I couldn't have done it without you."
He smiled back, relaxed and comfortable as he sat across the desk from her. This was why he had been hired, and she was sincere with what she had said, she and Eric had worked smoothly together. Finding love, and a life with him, was an added bonus.
She was about to suggest they leave for the day when she noticed him through the office doors. Jimmy, no , James , Foreman's former slave.
She'd expected to see him long before this, making some pathetic effort to buy Greg, and when he hadn't appeared she'd reasoned that he had returned to Canada, or gone anywhere that was far from the place where he'd been a slave. He'd probably forgotten about Greg as soon as he became a free man. After all it was only chance that had brought them together.
It was the worst timing that brought him here now, on the eve of the climax to all their work over the past year.
She glanced at Greg and saw that his gaze was fixed on the man approaching the office. He even took a step towards the door.
"Greg, stay," she commanded and he took another step but then stopped, his eyes still locked on the approaching man.
James opened the office door without bothering to knock and she stood up, Foreman joining her.
He looked different. He'd put on a little weight, but the biggest difference was in his clothing. Foreman had always had him smartly turned out, in business shirts and dress pants - attire similar to his own. Now he was wearing casual clothes, not scruffy, but not with the crispness of Foreman's wardrobe. Where before he'd always been kept clean shaven, now he had stubble, and a wispy moustache. His hair was shorter, cut in a no-nonsense way, rather than the precise styling that Foreman had favoured.
As he came towards her she saw another difference, he walked taller and with more confidence. His eyes met hers openly; he didn't stare at the ground. He didn't offer his hand to either her or Foreman, but gave Greg a warm smile and a nod.
"Hi, Greg," he said. "It's been a while."
"James," Cuddy cut in, before Greg could start a conversation. "We were just leaving for the day, what can we do for you?"
James stopped smiling and focused his attention on her.
"So, we're not going to bother with pleasantries? Good. You know why I'm here."
"I assume you have some quixotic notion of buying Greg from me." She shrugged. "Sorry, he's not for sale at any price."
James laughed softly. "Oh, I don't want to buy him - he’s a human being, not a piece of furniture. You're going to free him."
There was a moment of silence and then Cuddy shook her head.
"I said he's not for sale, and you think I'm just going to free him? That's absurd. He's been with me a long time, and he's been a slave since he was twelve. I doubt he would even know what to do if he were free."
"Oh, I think he could figure it out," James said with a wry grin. "I managed."
"Not very well if you think any of this is going to work. Now, like I said, we were just leaving. We have a big day tomorrow."
"Yes, I heard. Big opening of the new wing. A documentary being made. Television crews will be here. Lots of publicity. Funny thing, my story got out to the media - I'm sure you've heard."
Yes, there had been mentions in the news of an innocent man who'd been framed for murder and enslaved. The media hadn't released his name or any details but it had been apparent to both of them who it was.
"They can't identify me by name unless I agree to it. So far I haven't. I'm in contact with several high profile people who want my story. You know, the whole story of my time as a slave, how I was treated, what I did, who owned me. Things like that. The tabloids are particularly interested - they always like a good slave story."
Cuddy glanced at Foreman who was looking concerned. He was a proud man, the last thing he would want would be his name dragged through the tabloids.
"You were treated well here," Cuddy said.
"Opinions might differ on that. My ass certainly does."
"You were a slave. We, or the hospital, would hardly be condemned for treating a slave as a slave."
"No," Wilson agreed. "Although the public don't often have a chance to hear the real truth; what it actually means to be a slave. And the fact that I shouldn't have been a slave in the first place may incur some extra sympathy when I tell them how I was ordered to kneel at Foreman's feet every morning and blow him. The story about having to sleeping on an old blanket on the floor next to his washing machine would be good, or I could tell them about working fourteen or sixteen hours a day, every day."
He looked thoughtful. "Yes, I think I could do a lot with that, and I don't have much to lose at this stage. What I was really thinking of though was telling the general public and all those rich sponsors you have, about your 'Diagnostics Department'. I wonder what the medical board would make of an unlicensed Doctor, a slave at that, practicing medicine? What about all those journal articles, supposedly written by Doctor Chase, but actually written by Greg? If we go back further, I wonder how much help Greg provided you when you were going through medical school, Doctor Cuddy? How many papers did he write for you ?"
She followed his gaze to look at Greg who was still standing quietly behind the desk leaning heavily on his cane. Greg was openly grinning, obviously enjoying her discomfort. Then James focused his attention back on Cuddy.
"So, I can tell that story, tonight, to the cameras. Maybe I'll even cry a little - that usually works. How do you think tomorrow's event will go after that?"
Cuddy stared at him silently. He was right, of course, she couldn't allow Greg's unusual situation to come out. Not now, just when the hospital was expanding. The hospital would be badly damaged by another scandal, so soon after the Vogler one. And both she and Eric would be personally embarrassed by his allegations. He had a winning hand.
She looked at Foreman, and by the slump of his shoulders she could see he agreed. She was going to lose Greg - but maybe she could get something out of it.
"You can buy him - one million dollars. I'm sure you got more than that in compensation."
James smiled again, although there was nothing pleasant about his expression.
"Much more. I'm not buying him. I already told you what I want - Greg free, today - or I go to the media." He stared at her, not even pretending to be affable now.
All in , she thought, he's staking everything on this - and he's not bluffing . James was giving her no choice.
"It's unreasonable to expect me to virtually give such a valuable slave away."
"You've had twenty years work out of him; whatever your mother paid for him has been repaid many times over. Does your hospital's reputation rely that heavily on one slave?"
She leant back on the desk, pretending to think, but she was nearly out of options. She tried one last gambit.
"I haven't got time to do this now, I'll do it but I'll need a few days."
"No. This happens now, or it doesn't happen, and I go to the press."
She'd lost. If she didn't do this she'd lose him anyway - Greg would never settle down to work again after this, and if James followed through on his threat she could stand to lose a lot more. She looked at Foreman and he gave a little shrug and shook his head.
"Okay - I assume you have some sort of plan for this?"
"My car is outside; we'll go in that to the police station, they can do the paperwork. Doctor Foreman can come if he likes, but Greg rides up front with me."
She went to argue but shook her head, deciding against it, she just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. She had a big day tomorrow, and now, no slave to help.
________________________________________
Greg was reminded of that long ago day when his father dragged him to the slave trader's office to sell him. The bored police officer handed over sheafs of forms for Cuddy to initial and watched her while she did so. He explained to her that once this was done she couldn't change her mind and that the slave, Greg, would have all the rights of a free man. He asked her if she was being coerced in any way to take this step. She glanced up at James but then firmly said no.
Finally she was done signing and the police office gathered the papers back up, shuffling one to the top and handing it to her.
"Have him sign that, if he can. If not he can just make his mark. He's supposed to read it all but I've never met a slave yet who objected to being freed. Not that many are. You're very generous."
Greg almost snorted but a quick glance from James quieted him. James was watching everything carefully but Greg could see he was a ball of tension, despite his outwardly calm appearance.
Cuddy handed Greg the form and he glanced it over, and then quickly signed it. On a whim he used his full name, Gregory John House, writing it heavily.
"Okay, that's it. Congratulations." The officer said, taking the form back and barely glancing at Greg. "You're a free man." He looked at Cuddy. "You got the key to his collar?"
She fumbled in her purse and produced it, making a move towards him. James stepped forward and took it from her.
"I'll do it."
He came and stood behind Greg where he was sitting and laid a hand on the back of his neck. Brushing Greg's hair aside he quickly fitted the key to the lock at the back of the collar and removed it. He dropped the collar heavily on the table and ghosted his other hand along Greg's shoulder.
Greg stared at the leather object on the table. He'd worn a collar since he was twelve years old, when his father had put his first one on. He put a hand up to his throat, feeling the scarred tissue there. When he put his hand back down he noticed that it was shaking.
James came around in front of him and touched his own throat. "The marks fade in time. Come on, let's go."
When they made their way back out of the station Greg paused at the bottom of the steps. He had no idea what to do next. James came up next to him.
"I'm sure you can make your own way back to the hospital," he said to Cuddy. "Greg and I have a lot to catch up on."
Cuddy rolled her eyes at him but then looked at Greg.
"We can probably arrange for you to consult at PPTH. You might find you need some money. I'm there for you if you need me - we've known each other a long time after all. And it's not like any other hospital will employ you."
Greg almost laughed. He'd rather push a broom around for the rest of his life than go anywhere near that hospital again. If he didn't ever see Cuddy, or Foreman, again in his life he'd die a happy man.
"Come on, Greg. Let's go." James said, touching his hand lightly.
"Wait. There's something I've wanted to do for a while." Greg said, moving closer to him and slipping his arms around him. He touched his lips gently to James', a soft enquiry. James looked surprised and then grinned happily, answering the pressure with his own, and deepening the kiss, right there on the sidewalk in front of Foreman and Cuddy.
When they broke apart Greg looked back at Cuddy, who was staring at him, her eyes wide, frozen in place. Foreman looked like he was going to stroke out.
"Oh, you know the couch in the living room? You might wanna think about replacing that. That's where we used to do it every night while you were sleeping, and James can be a bit... passionate." Greg said with a smirk. “There were… leakages, if you know what I mean.”
He turned his back on them and headed towards the car, cane in his right hand, James on his left side, walking close enough that their shoulders brushed.
He didn't look back.
________________________________________
James had only driven a couple of blocks when they passed a park.
"Stop here." Greg said, staring out at the green space. "I need to ----"
He couldn't articulate what he needed but James didn't hesitate. He pulled the car up and they both got out. Greg limped slowly towards a picnic table in the centre of the park. Once there he sat on the wooden seat and stared out at the people busy enjoying the park.
"I used to sit on the roof of the hospital and look out onto this park. I used to imagine I was free." His fingers again went to his bare neck. James hand came up to cover his.
"You are free, now. Nothing can change that."
"I don't know if I know how to be free anymore."
James smiled ruefully. "It takes some getting used to, but it gets easier, and it sure as hell beats the alternative. People don't know… they don't appreciate what they have."
Greg looked at him, rolling his cane between his hands. "What have you been doing? Can they... did they give you your memory back?" He swallowed hard, if James remembered his old life now, maybe he would want to go back to it. Back to somebody like Holling. But he couldn't begrudge him getting those memories back - James had lost so much.
James ran a hand through his hair and stared into the distance. "I was in therapy for a while, intensive therapy. They tried to dig the memories back up. It's an experimental procedure - it's not like they've had a lot of practice reversing mind-wiping. It was hard, I'd just get bits and pieces of things, often the worse things, and those were the strongest memories. I couldn't make sense of it. Each therapy session left me more and more confused. I was physically ill after each session - I got migraines for days. In the end I stopped going. I have a little, now, maybe more will come back naturally - maybe it won't." He shrugged.
"Have you met your family?"
"Yes, my parents and one of my brothers. It was... okay. They seem like pleasant people. I don't really remember any of them so we don't have much in common. They were a little embarrassed - like they didn't know what to say. They didn't ask me what it was like being a slave at all."
James looked down at his hands, twisting them together.
"I'm sorry it took me so long to come and get you. I hope you didn't think I'd forgotten you. Every day I've been working towards this, planning for it - I couldn't take the risk of it failing. The event tomorrow was the perfect thing I needed to force Cuddy's hand. My compensation payment came through last month.”
“I knew you’d come,” Greg said, and he had. He’d never doubted James in all the months since, it was what had kept him going. He strove to lighten the mood that had suddenly become somber. "You had enough money and you still wanted me for free, you cheapskate.”
"I didn't want to buy you," James said simply. "It wouldn't have been right; I wanted Cuddy to free you. The money was just there as a back-up. If she'd called my bluff, it's all in a ready access account; I would have spent every cent to see you safe."
Greg laughed. "I wish I could tell Cuddy that, would love to see her face if she knew she could have had a shit load of cash for me, instead of nothing."
James grinned back. "I think you got your own revenge. Think they'll go straight home and burn that couch?"
"If I'd had some warning I would have left them a few nasty surprises."
Silence fell and Greg could feel the weight of the past settling over them.
"Come on, it’s going to be dark soon." James said, breaking the uneasy moment. Greg felt his stomach twist. He didn't know exactly where he stood. He was alone in this world, unlike James he didn't have any money, or any possessions except for the clothes on his back. He was on the wrong side of forty, crippled, in constant pain, and an ex-slave. People wouldn't be beating down his door to hire him.
James stood up but Greg kept sitting, his gaze on the horizon. James looked down at him, a little impatiently.
"Greg? I know it's a lot to adjust to but you can't sit here all day."
"Where are we going?"
"Home. It's about twenty minutes drive from here, I figured you wouldn't want to be right on top of the hospital."
" Your home."
"I'd like," James paused, swallowing nervously. "I'd like it to be our home but it doesn't have to be. Look, I know we were sort of thrown together. Maybe you'll feel differently now that you have the freedom to choose. I don't want you to feel pressured. The apartment has two bedrooms. You can stay as long as you want. Get your own feet under you. I have more than enough money, you can have half - you can go anywhere you want, live anywhere you want. I don't want you to feel like you don't have a choice. Not ever."
"But you still want to be with me?" Greg asked, his breath catching as he waited for the answer.
"Of course I do, you idiot. I want to be with you for the rest of our lives - if that is what you want. We can start fresh, Greg. We can start again from today. We can do anything we want to do." He held out his hand to Greg.
Greg took the hand and pushed himself to his feet. He looked around and took a deep breath of the fresh air. The sky was darkening but he could still see James clearly.
"Then let's go home."
~ End