Here in this Life

Disclaimer: I do not own, lay claim to or make money from Flatliners, the characters, or anything else covered under copyright law. The following is a work of fanfiction for entertainment purposes only. Again, I don't make any money or profit from this.


Here in this Life

Dave wasn't sure how Nelson had convinced him to attend the school's annual "Christmas Banquet and Gala". He'd managed to avoid the previous few years by volunteering to work the ER or with fake excuses of having to visit family, and then relaxing alone in his apartment. This year, unfortunately, neither tactic worked. Dave was still in month two of his bullshit four month suspension, which kept him out of the ER and also wasn't conducive to staying in student housing. Bunking in with Nelson was the solution to that, but also meant that his classmate could very effectively call him on his bullshit.

He sat crosslegged on the end of Nelson's bed, a little sourly, watching the other man iron what seemed like a mountain of identical white shirts. "I still don't get why you want me to go so bad."

"You're a part of the class," Nelson replied calmly, starching another shirt collar. "You deserve to be there. Much more than some of the other schmucks we go to school with."

"Yes, but I don't particularly want to be there. And you know the Dean will be pissed."

"The Dean can't say anything about a student bringing a guest."

"I don't want to cause more trouble, Nelson...."

"That's not the David Labraccio I know. You know you want to go just to stick it to the man."

Dave frowned, loathe to admit that Nelson was right, at least in that aspect. "I... don't really have anything to wear. It's black tie."

"Just wear a suit jacket with some slacks. You'll be fine."

He leaned on his elbows against his knees, looking up at him. "Nelson, the entirety of my worldly belongings here at school fit into three duffel bags. Would you like to tell me where my suit is?"

The blonde looked genuinely surprised. "You honestly came to med school without a suit?"

He shrugged. "Figured I'd try to put away some cash and buy one when I needed it. Haven't needed one yet."

Nelson had set the iron on its end and was looking him over carefully. "Come here - stand up."

He did as he asked, not moving as Nelson swept one of the neatly ironed white shirts off its hanger, holding it up against his shoulders, checking the width, the length of the sleeves. Then he hung it back up, crossing to open the white paneled doors of his closet, flipping through hangers. "I think I might have something that will do the trick."

"Nelson, I don't need to borrow your clothes...."

"Hush." His friend emerged from the closet with a steel gray jacket, handing it to Dave. "Try that on."

"Nelson...."

"Humor me?" Wide blue eyes, hopeful.

He could never say no to those. Sighing, he slipped his arms into the jacket, buttoning it over his tshirt. "There."

The blonde smiled, tugging and patting at the fabric here and then, then gave a satisfied nod. "Not a bad fit at all. Just a little bit loose. And a little short in the arms, but that should be forgivable with a shirt underneath." He stepped back, slipping on his glasses and regarding him with a little smile. "Very striking. It brings out your eyes."

He sighed, and crossed the room to the full length mirror, examining the jacket critically. Nelson was right... it did look pretty good on him, though it would likely look better with slacks than jeans. He took off the jacket and handed it back to Nelson. "Okay, you win. I'll go."

Nelson gave a little triumphant smirk. "It'll be great. Just wait."

Within the first few days of staying at Nelson's apartment, the blonde had convinced him to quit the warehouse job he'd picked up when he'd gotten suspended and stay for the rest of the school year, using his now free time to study the course material through Nelson's notes and textbooks, and the audio recordings his friend had started making of every lecture at the beginning of November.

"You know you can challenge these courses," his friend had said, arms crossed over his chest. "You'll be right back with the rest of us before you know it." He smirked. "Besides, I need some competition in the class. Not nearly as much fun constantly flouncing Joe and Steckle without you around to give me a run for my money."

Dave had agreed without much more persuasion needed, and even began to sneak into the school after hours to join their study sessions, though he had to admit that it had more to do with seeing Nelson than anything else.

He should have expected Steckle to figure it out first. And as careful as they were, he really shouldn't have been as surprised as he was by it. They were in the stacks, pulling books for a research paper, when the dark haired man cleared his throat.

"Hey Dave?"

"Yeah?"

"You know... we're friends, right? And I respect you and support you and all the crazy shit you've done and all that."

He kept leafing through the massive textbook on the endocrine system that he was holding, only half listening to him, and made some noise of positive response.

"I don't really know how to ask this in a polite or appropriate manner, so I'm just going to be blunt. Are you and Nelson fucking?"

He fumbled the book, cursing as it smacked painfully into his shin on its way to the floor. "Fuck - ow! What?"

Steckle was sizing him up carefully, as if trying to determine which answer his reaction leaned toward. "Are you?"

Several answers flashed through his head, from flat out lying, which he knew he couldn't pull off, to just taking off and not saying another word. Finally he tried, "Why would you think that?"

"Couple of things..." Steckle was still watching him carefully, and Dave knew that everything he did was being carefully analyzed. "Not the least of them being that Nelson was a goddamn basket case before you checked into his place two weeks ago, and you were avoiding the school and all of us like the plague up until then too. Now he's fucking tutoring you and it's like you're joined at the hip."

He snorted. "I don't trade sexual favors for tutoring."

"Come on, I didn't say that."

Dave shrugged. "Diagnosis not supported by symptoms. Try again, doctor."

Steckle frowned. "You left Manus."

"People break up all the time."

"Not with a woman as hot as Rachel."

"Try again, Steckle."

The other man sighed, leaning closer, lowering his voice. "Look. I've got a photographic memory, did you forget? That pile of bedding in Nelson's study, that you use every night? It hasn't moved an inch in all the times I've been there. It hasn't been touched. You aren't sleeping there. And I've seen how you look at each other when you don't think anyone else is watching. I'm not stupid, Labraccio."

He returned Steckle's gaze quietly for a moment, challenging, then finally backed down, glancing away. "Look, we're not... fucking...."

"Bullshit, Dave - "

"But we're... involved." He wet his lips, then looked back at him, challenging again. "What's it to you?"

"I knew it!"

"So what?" He shrugged. "What are you going to do about it, Steckle?"

His classmate looked a little confused. "Well... just helps avoid putting you in uncomfortable situations, saying the wrong thing, you know... strippers...."

He rolled his eyes. "I don't not like women, dammit. We haven't changed."

"But you're fucking - "

"I'm still the same person, Randy. We both are."

Steckle hesitated, then shook his head. "No... no, you're better. Both of you. Especially him." He gave a little sigh. "Look, I... I don't really know how to react to this. You're my friend, you both are, I like that you're happy. Just... be careful, ok?"

"Steckle..."

"No, I'm serious, Dave. I like Nelson. I really do, and he's my friend, even if he's a bit of an asshole sometimes. But Dave... he's extremely obsessive. You saw first hand what he was like in October."

"He's focused...."

"Very focused. And very charismatic, and he can be - please excuse me for saying this - extremely manipulative. I don't want to see you get hurt, David."

He tried not to get angry at what Steckle was saying, and drew a deep breath. "Look... I appreciate your concern. But I can handle myself. And maybe I can help him."

Steckle leaned back against the bookshelf, folding his arms across his chest. "Is that why you're doing this? To fix him?"

"God, no - "

"But that's why you were with Rachel."

Dave stopped, and sighed. "... yeah, I know. I didn't - I didn't intend it...." He sighed. "That's how it ended up, didn't it? Please don't tell her...."

"Dave, I'm not stupid."

"Neither am I." He mirrored Steckle's pose across from him. "Randy... I know Nelson. I do, I've known him longer than any of you. I'm not going into this blindly. And..." he hesitated. "I love him. I'm not just trying to 'fix' him."

"Love is always blind, Dave."

He thought back to his hallucinations, to what he'd walked in on the night he confessed his love. "No... not this time." He smiled at Steckle. "Thank you. But don't worry about me, ok? I'll be ok." He gave a soft chuckle, looking down. "He really does make me happy."

"Then I'm happy for you."

"Thanks. Hey... don't tell anyone, ok?"

"Well, I've already talked to Joe about it..."

Dave sighed. "Oh god, Joe knows?"

"He was pretty certain, but I drew the short straw and had to ask." Steckle chuckled. "Look, don't worry about it. We won't breathe a word to Rachel."

"Thanks, Steckle." He felt a sudden sense of relief at having overcome this hurdle. "Really... thank you."