A/N: Woo, back again. I worked on this on my two day vacation just for you guys because I love you all so much.

Ok, warning time. Comtemplated suicide trigger warning. Also, semi-graphic depictions of being ill. Both are in the first section so you can skip that part if you need. It'll be recapped in the other parts. I think this is the most graphically emotionally messed up thing I've ever writen. Just hope I've done justice to people who actually have felt like this.

Also, sorry about typos.

Disclaimer: I only own what isn't canon

Day 8 - Evening

~1 Hour Prior~

Chris' vision swam as he took another drink from the bottle in his hand. He choked slightly on both the vile liquid and his own sobs. He whimpered and hissed slightly in pain as the whiskey spilled along the outside of the bottle and flowed over his cut palm. It burned as it settled into the tiny wounds but even that felt dulled compared to the agony in his heart.

Bile and alcohol clawed a burning path up his throat but he swallowed it down again. He took another drink as more tears dripped down his cheeks. His mind, frazzled with alcohol and mixed emotions, did not even register the salty drops now. His thoughts trapped in a fractured glass box as he stared down at the NCIS standard weapon gripped in his quivering hand as his blood dripped down the barrel from his other cut palm.

His sore eyes fluttered closed as he sniffled pitifully. He tried desperately to swallow around the lump in his throat but it refused to lessen. A violent maelstrom of negative thoughts and emotions rushed to the forefront of his fractured consciousness. His focus never leaving themeven when the cold tip of his own service weapon pressed against his head.

His thumb absentmindedly flicked the safety on and off. His subconsciousness was playing a one-man game of Russian roulette as his guilt and shame played over in his head. The blood on his hands became that of his precious Savannah's as the memory played before his eyes. A cold rushed through him as a scream ripped from his throat, the guilt for her death baring down on him.

The hated memories did not end there. All his recent screw ups all came to light. He could see the body of Savannah's doppleganger. His inability to protect the man he loved followed, along with his avoidable fight with Cade. The guilt of these failures crashed down on him, crushing his bleeding soul. Though, despite all this, it was one more last image in his head that did him in.

He could see it clearly, it was made up of three different events all happening at once. It was the memory of him nuzzling noses with Dwayne as the older agent whispered words of love. He could remember being so happy but now the feeling was ruined as he heard homophobic slurs from Callihan and he could see his mother's look of disgust off to the side. In the end, he could hear himselff defiantly defending Pride's sexuality and integrity and how the blame for the relationship fell on Chris' shoulders.

His arms suddenly jerked to the sides as his body lurched forward, retching up all the alcohol-drowned contents of his stomach. He did not even have enough self-respect left to be ashamed or repulsed by the fact that he had just vomited all over himself and his bathroom floor. He could only heave up what little murky bile was left in his stomach as his mind focused on the truth set before him. His eyes snapping open, pupils constricted in horror. Realization set in as his pulse quickened and his breath came off in ragged gasps. He could finally see the bitter grey light. He had been right: Dwayne was not the whore but rather he himself was.

He had been sleeping his pain away with different girls until he had suckered his best friend into owning him. He had tainted Dwayne's heart with his own stupid desperation and could never pay his friend back for distorting everyone's perspective. How could he be so stupid?! He could cost his friend his job with such a stupid stunt. How could he betray the man that had saved him like this?!

"No, no, no!" He cried out in anguish. He clenched his eyes shut again, weakly bashing both bottle and gun against his head. He paid no heed to how the weapon's metal edge broke the skin of his skalp, blood dripping down his face to mix with the alcohol and vomit on the floor. His thumb flicked off the safety one last time. He sniffled in dispair as he pressed the point of his weapon to his head again. His wrecked nerves made his fingers quiver on the trigger.

His resolve to pull it set in but he was startled out of the choice as his phone chirped happily to him. He blinked open sore eyes and he shakily put the bottle down to take his phone out of his pocket as NCIS on-call training kicked in as second nature. His thumb opened the text without a conscious thought.

~-Chris, making your favorite gumbo for dinner.

Home you're feeling better. See you in a bit.

Love you, Dwayne-~

Bleary vision twisted the message in and out of focus and it took several tries to read it. His heart clenched, lip quivering. An unknown emotion nudged the thought of suicide out of his subconsciousness. An over-whelming sense of love mixed with his guilt and shame.

His head dropped and hung down between his raised knees as he put his phone away. He grabbed the bottle once more for a drink before crying softly again. He whimpered and hid his head in his arms. Shame and love keeping him in limbo from making a choice for a bit longer.

~*~NCIS~*~

-Present Time-

Cade shivered as he sat holding his brother close. He squirmed slightly, the smell of vomit and alcohol attacked his senses. He could feel the puddle of it soaking into his pants but he found he actually could not care. Chris had gone through worse than vomit in order to save Cade before and now it was time to pay him back.

He gently stroked Chris' hair lovingly, frowning as he noticeed the dried blood matting his hair for the first time. He whispered soft apologies and words of love as he hugged him closer. The ingrained need to protect his baby brother had not surfaced in so many years. Chris was the big, strong federal agent that saved tthe day, not a little lost victim. He was not supposed to be like this.

~*~NCIS~*~

Dwayne's world started to chip away as he stepped into his partner's home. Fear spiked as he stepped around the smashed whiskey bottle and he spotted the bloody smears around the walls. He fought his panic as he crept deeper into the apartment. Looking for clues about what had happened to his love, Cade had not given details.

He called out to the older LaSalle brother to gather his location. He followed the weak reply to their bathroom. He gagged slightly as he got to the door as the stench of whiskey and stale vomit hit his nose. He only took a second to steel himself before entering the cramped room. He gasped slightly, heart breaking as he spotted the LaSalle siblings.

His knees felt weak as he spotted his love's bloody weapon shoved far to the side. It was not hard to miss what had happened in this place now and he silently thanked Cade for his insight as he crouched beside the younger men. He momentarily shut his eyes against the sight of his sobbing Christopher as the younger man lay in his own vomit and clung to his sibling.

"A-agent Pride?" Cade asked weakly, looking so lost as he turned his head to Dwayne. He was clutching his brother to his chest protectively. Dwayne smiled sadly and laid a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"It's going to be okay, Cade. Ah'm here." He gently brushed Cade's tears away, "Why don't you give him to me and you go get cleaned up? You look tired, son." Dwayne slowly knelt on the clean part of the floor as Cade nodded shakily. He helped to detatch an incoherent Chris from his older brother. Cade's lip quivered and he wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand as Chris let out a pitiful whimper. The older LaSalle brother shakily brushed his fingetips over his sibling's bloodied face.

"I-I tried to h-help. I-I didn't know w-what to do." Cade's voice broke, choking back his own sorrow. Dwayne shook his head, soothingly rubbing the younger man's back.

"Ya did great. Chris'll be so proud once 'e's back on 'is feet." His soft words were rewarded with a weak smile, "Now go on, go get changed into some clean clothes."

"Y-yes, S-sir. Need a-anything?"

"Some clean, comfortable clothes for your brother. Ah'm going to give him a shower then take him to get checked out by Loretta. Ah'm gonna keep with me for a few days awlright?" Cade quickly nodded in reply, trapped in a daze. They both knew that Dwayne was the best choice to care for Chris.

Cade quickly scurried off to go get changed. Dwayne shifted so he was sitting properly on the ground and pulled Chris fully into his lap. He kissed his mentally absent love's forehead. The younger man was conscious somewhat, mumbling nonsense as he clung to Pride's button-up. He seemed to be trapped in his own world of unrelenting misery and uncomprehending that Dwayne was even there.

The older man frowned sadly and slipped into an old habit that he used to help his daughter through hard times. He gathered the younger man closer, Chris' nose tucked under Dwayne's jaw. He gently began to rock him, rubbing his back and started to sing softly.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away."

His soft, soothing voice started to cut through the alcohol and pain induced fog. Chris slowly blinked sore, tear-crusted eyes as recognition started to form. His whole body ached but he was drawn to the soft strength that was comforting him. He shifted his head slightly, looking up at the man that held his heart. He was greeted by a softly smiling Dwayne. The older agent raised a hand to lovingly stroke Chris' cheek and slowly flowed into a new song.

"Somewhere over the rainbow
Way up high
And the dreams that you dreamed of
Once in a lullaby."

Chris flushed and looked away slightly at the choice of song but his body happily settled against his love. Dwayne motioned to the shower with his head but kept singing. Chris nodded sluggishly, head bowing in shame and still only barely aware of what was happening. Dwayne paused the song long enough to kiss his partner's hair and help him stand on shaky legs. The lullaby resumed again as Pride turned on the water to let it warm. Once that was set, he began to help ease Chris out of his clothes.

Once he had stripped Chris down to his boxers, he removed his own button-up. He helped the younger man into the shower and sat him down on the floor to let the water flow over him. He knelt on the clean spot of ground before the shower and leaned in. He linked the fingers of one hand with one of Chris' hands as his free hand grabbed a wash cloth off the shower handle. He smiled encouragingly to Chris and started to sing again.

"Oh, somewhere over the rainbow bluebirds fly
And the dream that you dare to,
Oh why, oh why can't I?

Well I see trees of green and red roses too,
I'll watch them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world"

He soaped up the cloth and tenderly washed the dried mess of snot, tears, and regurgitated alcochol from the younger man's face. Chris tried to pull away like a fussy child but did nothing more to resist. The incoherent effort made Dwayne smile as he continued to clean his partner up.

As he continued to sing softly, he could see Chris' body relax. The visible sorrow in the young man started to slip away and leave him sleepy. Crying, depression, and alcohol left him exhausted. Chris' eyes started to flutter shut as slumber started to take him. Dwayne gently squeezed his hand and reached up to turn off the water."

"Someday I'll wish upon a star,
Wake up where the clouds are far behind me
Where trouble melts like lemon drops
High above the chimney top
That's where you'll find me

Oh, somewhere over the rainbow way up high
And the dream that you dare to, why, oh why can't I?"

The verse was sung softly as Dwayne leaned Chris against his chest and began to dry him off. He began to hum instead as the younger man drifted off. He smiled sadly as he dabbed at his partner's hair, careful not to agrivate the wound.

"How'd you know that's his favorite lullaby?" Cade asked softly from the doorway, clothes for his brother in hand. He shakily stepped into the room, walking around the messy floor ro Dwayne.

"He confessed it to me one time when he and I were caring for a sick Laurel." The senior agent chuckled softly and kissed his younger love's wet hair, "So, now I sing it to him when he's not feeling well and it helps him relax. It's great when he's sick, puts him right to sleep." Cade perkered up slightly at the story as they dressed Chris. The two older men fought their own depression by sharing sweet stories. The exchange was heartening but Cade's ever unstable mood was having a hard time bouncing back.

He shakily helped Dwayne get Chris in the car. He knew the safest place would be with the elder agent. Knowing his brother was safe as he sent the two off, he locked up the apartment and headed out. He had a wrong to try and right.

~*~NCIS~*~

There was a specific level of certainty that came with living a long life. One of the lessons that Mrs. LaSalle has learned was that people did not pound angrily on hotel doors. That being a known fact, she found herself wondering why it was happening now.

She tied her evening robe as Callihan went to answer the door. She blinked in surprise as she watched her eldest son shove his way into the room and slam the door shut. He stomped into the middle of the room and his mother tried to go to him. She was quickly sent away as he turned on her with a glare.

"Cade, Sweetheart, what's the matter?" She was growing worried, he had been so happy earlier.

"Don' call me that! Ah don' even think you deserve to be called our mother righ' now!" His hands clenched into fists as his parental figures gaped in shock. His mother reached out with a shaky hand and gently touched his arm.

"Sweetheart, what are you talking about?" Mrs. LaSalle was feeling at a loss. It had been a long time since she had witnessed her son's violent emotions, usually Chris dealt with them when they actually knew where Cade was. Now that he was here instead of with his brother was a little offputting and she found herself floundering.

"Wha' Ah'm talkin' 'bout?" Cade scoffed, rolling back his shoulders as he faced both of them now that Callihan had come over to stand next to Mrs. LaSalle, "Ah'm talkin' about how my baby brother almost blew his brains out tonight because ya two idiots broke what little was left of his heart!" Mrs. LaSalle's heart stopped beating for a second as what her son just said settled into her mind. Horror stole her breath away and her body felt numb. She could only gape, swallowing thickly around the growing lump in her throat as he continued.

"Broken hearts don't mend overnight and depression doesn't fade away just because you're in love! Hurtful words and badly hidden negative opinions chip away at your soul until there's nothin' left and you just want it to end! You just want the pain to stop and there's only one way out." Cade glared viciously at them both, pointing a shaking finger to enforce his point, "If'n I hadn' come home, he might 'ave actually done it. And that's on you two, not him or Agent Pride! So just stay the hell away from me and my baby brother until Agent Pride can glue him back together again!" With that last violent warning, he spun around and stormed from the room. Leaving his parental figures frozen in shock as he slammed the door, not seeing his mother break down and sink to her knees.

~*~NCIS~*~

The sound of rain bouncing off the roof woke Chris in the dark of the night. He whined softly in pain at the pounding ache in his head. He had the worst hangover of his life and the horrific taste in his mouth was not helping. His eyes felt tired and sore as he sluggishly blinked them open. He felt oddly safe despite not recognizing his surroundings at first. It took his groggy brain a few more minutes to realize that he was lying snugly in Dwayne's bed at the office.

He groaned softly and reached out for where he knew from experience that his phone lay on the nightstand. His bleary eyes finally focused on his hand on the bandage wrapped around his palm. He blinked in confusion, he could feel more bandages on his other hand, both his feet, and his head. The confusion only grew worse because he could not remember why this had happened or how he had got here. Last he remembered, he was at home.

He winced and jerked his hand back under the covers. Patchy memories of depression, shame, guilt, and loneliness settled in. He felt sick despite his stomach being empty. He could also remember being violently ill and only feeling worse after it. Remembered emotions of feeling like trash settled in but he lacked the tears to cry anymore.

He shuddered and slowly pushed back the covers, crawling out of bed. He winced and hissed softly at the stinging pain in his feet. He ignored it and headed for the bathroom to wash his mouth out. He noticed the clock on the wall as he entered the tiny room and was shocked to find that it was three in the morning. Where was Dwayne? Why was he not in bed?

Chris turned on the water and shakily washed his mouth out. It took several minutes to remove the vile taste from his tongue and in the end did little to make him feel better. He tiredly washed his face, which did not help either, and looked in the mirror as he dried his face. He winced at his reflection, he looked terrible. His eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot, his skin was pale and sickly, and his head was bandaged.

He closed his eyes and turned away. He turned off the light and was about to slink off back to bed when a sound suddenly filled his ears. He realized that he had heard it the whole time but had not paid much attention to it. The sound was that of the sad, soft plinking of someone playing piano. The realization made his heart hurt; so that is where Dwayne was. The older man loved to play when he was sad or troubled.

Drawn to the lovely sound, Chris slunk over to his partner's safe haven. He wrapped his arms around himself as he sat on the opposite side of the bench. He mewled pitifully as he slumped and laid his head on Dwayne's shoulder. He relaxed slightly as one arm stopped playing to wrap around his waist. He was pulled close and could feel a kiss pressed to his hair.

"K-king, I-" He was cut off by Dwayne gently shushing him. He raised his head and was tenderly kissed for his efforts. Dwayne looked tired, sad, and concerned but smiled all the same. Chris had mixed emotions, he felt bad because he caused those emotions but he also could not stop the joy in his heart because his love's smile was real and joyful even if subdued.

"Chris, you don't have to explain anything tonight." He was kissed again before Dwayne pressed his nose to his ear and whispered softly, "Just let me hold you." Chris swallowed thickly but nodded slowly. He let himself be held close and loved. His eyes slipped close, letting the embrace and piano music refresh and mend his battered soul.

~*~END~*~