beLIEve

Part One: The Present

Ivan Fitzgerald unlocked the front door to his suburban home. A simple single story, three bedroom, two bath home in an upper middle class neighborhood in southeast Texas. The city of Houston was a forty-five minute drive to downtown if the traffic on I-45 was down to a minimal, which often time wasn't the case.

The city of Tomball was set in a suburb of northwest Houston, a German settled town dating back to the eighteen hundreds; with a population of less than twelve thousand.

Upon entering Ivan was greeted by a low growl; the house was dark. "Easy girl," he said, flipping on the light in the foyer.

The one hundred and twenty pound Irish Wolfhound-Great Pyrenees mix went from deathly serious to happy puppy in an instant. Ivan smiled as he bent down at the waist, scratching behind her ears. "Where's Daddy, huh? Is he asleep already?" Ivan stood, crossing through the living room and down the short hallway to the bedroom he shared with his partner (he hated the term boyfriend). He entered and smiled.

Corbin McCollum lay curled under the covers, his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms bent at the elbow, tucked against his chest. Ivan watched him sleep. He smiled at the sight, but as always there was a familiar pang against his soul that accompanied it. A pang he had yet to quite figure out. A mystery he was determined to understand.

They'd been together now three years and they'd been collectively the best three years of his twenty-eight. He knew there was a dark secret Corbin kept tightly under wraps and close to him. Closed off and locked away, unable or unwilling to divulge the information. What was the reason behind the ever present sadness that never seemed to fade? Why did he sometimes catch him staring at him with a look he can never quite put a label on when he thought Ivan wasn't paying attention?

Ivan slowly undressed before crawling into bed next to Corbin. He'd learned over the years to be wary of Corbin while asleep. Normally jumpy and prone to nightmares and night terrors, he often fought in the throws of sleep. He gently laid his fingers against his upper arm, working his thumb in soft motions.

"My sweet, I'm home." He kissed the shoulder his hand rested against. Corbin responded with a sleepy smile before flipping around, circled his arm around Ivan's side, snuggled into his chest. Ivan smiled, running his fingers through Corbin's curly, blond hair. "Hi, my sweet love. I missed you, too." He checked his watch, rubbed his eyes. The analogue clock fastened round his wrist read 2:05. He sighed. He was thankful he had the day off the next two days. He needed it. He needed the forty-eight hours to recoup and attempt at getting this damn case off his mind. After five months they had yet to catch little more than fleeting, circumstantial evidence, and nothing to tie it to the main suspect. It was wearing at him. Pulling Corbin closer he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on the feeling of having his love in his arms as sleep overcame him.

When he woke the sun was making its way across the sky, though he could tell by the light coming in through the blinds that it hadn't made it too far yet. The space next to him was empty, the sheets cold. Ivan rubbed his eyes and throwing his legs over the side of the bed, stood. As he padded down the hallway he followed the smell of breakfast to the kitchen.

Corbin had his back to him as he entered the kitchen, his visual focus trained on the skillet in front of him. Ivan hugged him, chest to back, and kissed the back of Corbin's neck. Corbin smiled, melting into Ivan with a contented sigh.

"Good morning, beautiful. Been awake long?" Ivan held him for a moment before dropping his arms and stepping back.

Corbin shrugged as he picked up the spatula. "An hour, or so. Long enough to shower and what not and make breakfast. Which is ready, by the way, so I hope you're hungry."