Chapter Text
Hodges was slowly fitting in with the rest of the lab.
After their morning round of drinks, Bobby had apparently passed some previously-unknown test, and his fellow scientist now took half his breaks in Bobby’s lab. At first it was annoying; David would sit on a spare chair with a questionable coffee in hand and prattle off about some topic for a solid twenty minutes, wherein Bobby couldn’t concentrate on what he was doing. Normally, the only sound Bobby allowed in the ballistics lab was gunfire tests and the faint carry of Greg’s music down the hall— and the later was only when the younger tech forgot his headphones.
After disrupting him for a whole break, Hodges would then leave Bobby to get back to his own work, and he could finally have some peace and quiet.
Once he got used to it though, Bobby actually started to like it. It wasn’t as if the subjects of Hodges’ rants were boring. The most mundane thing he talked about was some ex-girlfriend he’d had at some point, or complaining about Greg annoying him with his horrible wardrobe and loud music.
Bobby found it interesting, on the whole. And David seemed to enjoy himself, not needing much more than a few hums to show him that Bobby was still listening.
( He found out after a few visits that David needed a little input to keep going. If Bobby didn't show his vague engagement, he would trail off to an awkward halt that neither of them liked. )
What Bobby really liked was that the other Lab Rats were slowly starting to accept David into the fold as well. After Bobby had mentioned he’d had drinks with the guy, and consequently said that he seemed pretty decent, they took that as a sign to start inviting him to things.
Obviously, Hodges’ personality hadn’t changed, so the first few times they invited him to anything he declined with no shortage of suspicion and sass. But the Lab Rats as a unit were more stubborn than Hodges could ever hope to be, and eventually they managed to catch him at the end of shift, Jacqui all but forcing him to come to the monthly All Lab Rats’ breakfast.
Hodges didn’t speak or engage much at the breakfast, but he wasn’t terribly disgruntled, so they considered it a success. After that, dragging him along on whatever they were doing was generally accepted in lieu of an actual invitation. Hodges didn’t complain that seriously, and more importantly he never said he wanted them to stop.
After a few months David Hodges was just as much a Lab Rat as everyone else.
Unfortunately, it still wasn’t unanimous. Some techs like Henry or Vincent were wary of him - probably due to listening to whatever rumours were getting churned out - but even on the few occasions overtime meant they interacted, the swing and day shift crews were at least getting used to David’s loud, and often grating, personality.
Plus, every now and then Hodges would show a sliver of the fact that he cares a little bit more than he’d like them to realise. The moments were few and far between, but they were treasured ( at least for good blackmail and teasing ).
Like when Jacqui had gotten the flu and he’d made soup - real soup - to take to her place, just because ‘no one should have to stomach that vile canned stuff’. Or when Archie’s girlfriend broke up with him - amicable as it was - and Hodges ‘happened’ to bring a flask of hot chocolate to work everyday for a week, and that flask ‘happened’ to end up in Archie’s lab.
Which was interesting. Especially as Hodges was allergic to chocolate.
Whenever Bobby walked into the break room to see that some poor soul had fallen victim to one of David’s rants, he couldn’t help but smile a little. He wasn’t the only one that Hodges seemed comfortable enough with to let himself rant at them.
The CSIs hadn’t cottoned on yet that David was starting to open up, though. Which wasn’t the ideal. But they were getting used to him, at least. It just meant the Lab Rats had him all to themselves for now.
Bobby liked David, and he was glad that, hard as some factors made it, a new hire had lasted long enough to worm their way into the group. And, all evidence indicated that Hodges would be lasting a lot longer.
Bobby never thought he’d see the day where Hodges and Greg - neither of whom would ever admit to being friends, especially not to outsiders - were having an animated conversation about… well, Bobby wasn’t quite sure what it was about, but it was heartwarming.
Even when Greg threw his arms in the air and stormed off in what only those close to him would recognise as faux-anger.
And especially when the smug smile that followed on Hodges’ face showed that he recognised Greg’s antics for what they were.
The only thing that Bobby loved more than his friends was seeing them all get along.
Bobby slid the next bullet under the microscope, comparing it to the sample from one of the suspect’s guns.
The only backdrop to his work was the constant din of the lab and the clinks of glass slides and bullet casings. Bobby took a steady breath, comparing the rifling patterns on the bullets.
The shallow grooves scratched into the metal didn’t match up, and Bobby marked it down in the report. He moved on to the next bullet.
Of course, the suspect was an avid gun collector, which Bobby could relate to - he loved the science and engineering of guns, and some guns were just pretty - if it weren’t for the fact that the guy had probably used one of them to kill three people. Bobby, thankfully, could not relate to that.
He lined it up under the scope and resisted the urge to sigh when it, again, didn’t match. Bobby logged it, and moved on.
Soft footsteps and the smell of the office coffee - like burnt sugar and something uniquely tangy and bitter - came into his lab and Bobby smiled. Without looking up from the next sample he’d laid out under the scope he muttered, “Hey, Dave.”
Hodges sat down in his seat, which squeaked like it did every time. “Dawson,” he greeted, using Bobby’s last name as a turned-around nickname probably meant to be annoying. ( It hadn’t had that effect since Bobby noticed the hidden but undeniable foundation of fondness ). “You’ve got that triple shooting, huh?”
“Guns are my job, Dave,” he said, crossing another bullet off the list. “And I’ve got no trace for ya’, so I’m guessin’ yer not here to do your job.”
Bobby raised an eyebrow at the man, who simply shrugged and drank some of the near-intolerable swill the lab survived off of. “I’m on break.”
“We have a break room.”
David gave a hurt look that couldn’t fool the world’s most gullible. “Wasn't the first thing you told me that your lab door was open if I ever wanted something better than a wall to talk to? Bobby Dawson, were you lying to me? Was our whole relationship founded on lies?”
“Dave, if ya’ haven’t noticed yet, my door is always open,” he nodded his head to the doorway, “because I have no door.”
Hodges looked at the open doorway, then back at Bobby with an overly shocked look. “You poor man. I can't begin to imagine the lack of privacy you experience in our doorless, glass lab.”
David gave Bobby a long, sympathetic look, then took a loud slurp of his coffee. Bobby rolled his eyes, grabbing another bullet.
“Did ya’ need somethin’, or have you chosen a topic for today?” Bobby continued on with his work, letting himself fall into the routine that’d formed over the past few weeks.
“Actually, I’m all out today. Though I am saving some fun thoughts on vampires for one of those breakfasts you all drag me to.” David tapped his foot on the floor as he spoke.
If there was one word besides smug Bobby could use to describe Hodges, it would be animated. Hodges was always moving, whether that be his hands, his expression, or his whole body - Bobby had caught him dancing around his lab a few times - David was never still. Even his walk was, though quiet, bouncy.
Stiff, however? Absolutely. Hodges was an oxymoron wrapped in glamorous words and nervous hands. With a glance at the man, who was sat ramrod straight in the plastic chair, tense enough to make Bobby want to stretch his back, Bobby allowed himself a frown. Sometimes he wished he knew how to make David actually relax. And this was already an improvement from when he’d first started working there.
“So,” David continued, entirely oblivious to Bobby’s internal monologue, “I thought that for a change I’d ask you to speak. Anything you’ve been dying to say?”
“Yeah. I’ve got this coworker who keeps interruptin’ my work; It’s very annoyin’.”
“ Please, bullet comparison is something we both know you can do in your sleep.” Hodges waved his hand in the air as if to disperse the notion that Bobby’s work could be interrupted. “Now come on, there’s got to be something!”
Bobby just shrugged.
Hodges sighed. “Fine, I see how it is.” David slurped on his coffee again, if only to get a rise out of the ballistics tech. Which took guts, considering the amount of firearms that Bobby was trained to use and actively surrounded by. “How are things with you and your special someone?”
With a groan, Bobby shot Hodges a harsh look.
The trace tech winced. “That bad? Come on, Dawson; vent to me.”
“It’s not… that bad. It’s jus’… not good.” Bobby swapped out another sample, both thankful for the repetition and loathing the amount there was to process. Who really needed this many pistols of the same calibre? “We argue a lot.” Bobby threw a glance to see if anyone was near. “He doesn’t like that I work nights. I’m not available when he wants, so that means I’m obviously sabotagin’ the relationship.”
“An’ when I am home, it’s like nothin’ I do is good enough, and he’s got a short fuse, which leads to more arguments an’—“ Bobby let out a sharp breath. “An’ it’s just goin’ downhill, Dave. I can’t see us lastin’ much longer.”
Hodges gave a low hum. “Honestly, Bobby, if it were me I would’ve left by now. Jon doesn’t sound good for you.”
It was true, loathe as Bobby was to admit it. “Then… why do I feel so bad that I’m not tryin’ to make it work?”
Bobby made eye contact with David, who could only shrug. “You’re a good guy?” David stood, walking the couple steps over to Bobby to put a hand on his shoulder.
His hand was tense and still, and Bobby knew it was because David really wasn’t into physical contact. Whether he was just unused to it or genuinely didn’t like it was still to be determined, but it didn’t change the end effect. It just made the gesture all the more heartfelt, because Bobby knew David was doing it because Bobby liked contact. Needed it, maybe.
“Thanks, Dave. It’s just hard to— to even get a date. I’m not great at askin’ guys out, or even tellin’ if they’re, y’know. An’ I’ve never had good experiences with the, uh, usual hangouts for… people like me.” He didn’t want to say Gay Bars, but Hodges seemed to get it. “An’ he was so nice to start…”
Hodges gave his shoulder a faint squeeze. “Dawson, if this guy can’t get it through his thick skull what it is he’s losing if he doesn’t wise up, he doesn’t deserve you. It’s not on you to cater to those less mentally fortunate.”
Bobby leaned into David’s hand and grinned. “You really do care.” He wiped away a fake tear, then laughed as David’s face contorted into a grimace.
“No, absolutely not. You’re just more tolerable than some people, who I won’t name, but I will say their initials are Greg, and Sanders.”
With a soft smile, Bobby made sure not to mention that David’s hand was still a reassuring weight on his shoulder. “Alright, Dave.” He absently glanced at the clock, mourning internally when he saw the time. “I think yer break is up.”
Hodges shot a glance at the clock as well, and finally let his hand fall into its usual place in his lab coat pocket. “Yep,” the trace tech sighed. “But, you know where my lab is when you take your break. And hey, my offer for if Jon steps out of line is still there.”
“Dave, please stop sayin’ you’ll commit crimes in a crime lab. People might start to think yer serious.”
David grinned, “Who says I’m not? Besides, you know Jacqui and the other Rats would help me. And I’m sure you can pretend I never said this; I wouldn’t give you the details anyway. Got to make sure you have plausible deniability.”
“David Hodges.”
Grinning his smug, smug grin, Hodges started his tactical retreat to his own lab. Just before the ever-soft steps could actually exit ballistics, Bobby called out again.
“Hey, Dave.” Hodges turned around with a questioning look. “Thanks. For lettin’ me vent.”
David smiled, shrugging his shoulders and stepping one leg back to almost give the illusion of a bow. “What are colleagues for?”
As Hodges walked away, his unique sway and pep in his step, Bobby got back to work.
Even though Hodges tried to hide it behind layers of self-inflation and general disdain for humanity, if you bothered to look it was obvious that he cared about people. Bobby was honoured that he was one of those close enough to not just notice it, but be on the receiving end of it.
He slid another bullet under the microscope, rotating it until the rifling marks started to line up with the other bullet’s. Bobby sighed in relief as the marks finally matched.
Maybe it was time to start thinking about how he was going to break up with Jon, whether it was sooner or later.
Things with Jon weren’t good. That had been a well-established fact of life for a long while.
Bobby thanked the universe that despite the genuinely surprisingly long time they dated, they’d never decided to fully move in together. Because he couldn’t imagine how much worse things would’ve gotten had they done that.
Pulling his car into the Crime Lab’s car park, the soft pinks of dusk coming in on the desert sky, Bobby wondered whether it would’ve at least cut their relationship shorter than it already had been. If maybe, had they lived together, they would’ve just stopped and taken a moment to say this isn't working.
Because it was over now, well and truly.
The shake in his hands, and the dull ache that still lingered on his cheek were evidence of that.
“I’ve had enough, Bobby!” Jon yelled. Bobby tried to get in a word edgewise, but the other man was skilled at keeping talking. “Your long hours, never being home, not talking to me! I’ve had enough!”
Jon packed the last of his things from Bobby’s place in his bag— he’d mostly been finished by the time Bobby himself got home from the store.
Bobby wanted to say that he fought to keep Jon. But honestly… the relationship had been over for a while, they were just finalising it. Unfortunately, Jon had definitely wanted him to fight to get him to stay.
Taking a deep breath, Bobby got out of his car.
He signed in, giving Judy a smile in exchange for her concerned look - he must look more shaken than he thought - and headed to the lockers.
“You’re just gonna stand there!?” Jon was shorter than Bobby, but when he got up in his face, Bobby still instinctively stepped back. “What, you’ve been wanting me to leave this whole time, huh?”
“Jon… we haven’t been workin’ for a long time,” he said, trying to calm the other down. Jon’s vibrant nature had been what drew Bobby to him, he just hadn’t known it could turn into a temper. “You know that as well as I do—“
“Hey, Bobby,” Nick greeted, opening his locker and grabbing a clean shirt. Bobby was aware that he said something in response, even if it was probably just a mumbled greeting. He wasn't really concentrating as he grabbed his lab coat from his locker, putting it on purely through autopilot.
Nick must have been able to tell that something was wrong, because without Bobby’s notice a hand was on his shoulder. Bobby jumped, and being broken out of his thoughts he turned to Nick.
“Ya’ alright there, Bob…” the CSI trailed off, eyes shifting focus from Bobby’s eyes to his cheek, the one that still throbbed with pain everytime Bobby moved his face. The Texan’s face was the picture of concern, and Bobby was starting to wonder how readable he really was.
“I’m fine, Nick,” he muttered, finally answering the question. Nick didn't seem the slightest bit appeased by his words. Instead, Nicks’ brows furrowed deeper.
“Bobby, what happened to yer face?”
Bobby blinked. “My face?” Nick let go of Bobby’s shoulder, going to rifle through his own locker for a minute before returning with a mirror.
Oh. Bobby looked at his reflection, a large splotch of red spreading out across his cheekbone. That’s why it hurts. “It’s nothin’, Nick. Don’t worry about it.”
Trying to continue on with his objectively awful day, Bobby went through the motions of getting to his lab; drop his bag in the locker, close the door, lock it–
“Bobby, how did you get that bruise? And don't say you walked into a door because that thing is massive, man.”
“Did you ever love me? Was I just some pity date that never meant anything to you!?” Jon’s hands were waving around as he spoke, making Bobby flinch as one went slightly too close to Bobby’s face.
“Jon–”
“What, you think I'm gonna hit you!?”
“Really, Nick, it's fine. I got into a little argument, but it’s fine.” Bobby tried to brush past the Texan, but Nick stepped in his way.
“Are you sayin’ someone hit you?” Nick sounded angry, and Bobby hated that it made blood rush out of his head.
“Jon, no, that's not what I think, you know that–”
“Oh, now you're just lying to me!”
“Jon–”
Bobby was cut off by a loud snap as skin met skin. For a moment their argument paused as they both processed what Jon had just done.
“Bob… I…” Bobby stared, disbelieving. Jon opened his mouth to say something more, but closed it and turned to leave, picking up the bags he had left next to the door.
Bobby stood in the middle of his living room, brain still processing what had just happened.
“Nick, please drop it. It’s happened, I’m fine, I just wanna get back to work and forget it.” Bobby tried to brush past again, getting similarly cut off. Nick’s hand found its place on his arm again before Bobby jerked it away with one sharp movement.
“Bobby—”
“I said I’m fine!”
Nick reeled back at Bobby’s shout. He would have felt bad, but Nick’s shock gave him an opening to slip past, and Bobby took it. Leaving Nick behind, he swiftly made his way to his lab, head down.
For a second he considered asking Jacqui if he could borrow some of her emergency makeup from her locker. Then he thought about the fact that she would have a good guess as to who it was that gave him the bruise and… yeah, he was going to avoid her finding out for as long as possible.
Ignoring a couple of side glances, he got to his lab and breathed a sigh of relief.
Now he just had to make it through the whole day and hope that Nick wouldn't blab to everyone else in the lab.
Bobby made it pretty far through the day before footsteps signalled an unwanted entry into his lab. The familiar light and airy steps also gave away who exactly it was intruding on Bobby’s bubble.
“Dawson, rumour has it you're in a bad mood today,” Hodges joked, stalking up to the desk. Bobby felt the man walk up and lean over his shoulder; it was a habit he used on everyone, and only the CSIs hadn't gotten used to it yet. “I mean, how do you shout at Nick Stokes? It’s like shouting at a puppy.”
Bobby sighed. “It’s nothin’, Dave. He was jus’ pushin’ somethin’ he shouldn't have.” Bobby grabbed a shell casing from his pile, putting it under the camera to get a shot of the back.
Hodges hummed, taking stock of Bobby. The man straightened up, before leaning back against the desk to get a better look at Bobby as they talked. Bobby in turn tucked his head to the side to hide the darkening bruise.
“Dawson? The man of infinite fuse? Must be something important to get you all riled up.” David leaned back further, trying to get a look at Bobby’s face. Bobby turned his head further in. “You getting shy on me?”
“David, please just leave me alone.”
Something about his tone must’ve been off - Bobby was hating how easy he was to read to everyone other than himself - because David sat up straight and tense, all of his previous laxness tightening.
“Bobby, what’s wrong?”
“I’m fine.”
“Yeah, that's what you shouted at Nick.” Hodges shot back, crossing his arms. “Now tell me what’s going on with you.” Bobby took a shaky breath, trying to get back to his work; his hands shook too much and he dropped the shell casing to the table. “Bobby, look at me.”
David put a hand on his shoulder. Bobby’s eyes started to prick with heat and pressure, and knew that Hodges, as oblivious as he could be, was noticing it.
“Bobby?”
Finally giving in, Bobby turned his head, making eye contact with David. Blue eyes focused on his cheek, and after a flash of confusion, anger settled over his face. “Bobby, did Jon do this?”
Bobby nodded, looking down at his desk. “We… had an argument.”
The silence that followed Bobby’s statement was suffocating, and Bobby wished that David would just start on one of his tangents about something and they could just act like nothing had happened.
Hodges’ hand on his shoulder slid down to his upper arm and started tugging him up. “C’mon, Dawson, stand up for a moment.” Bobby complied, heaving himself up onto his feet.
He turned to David to ask why he had to stand when arms circled around him, pulling him close.
A tear slipped down his cheek, and Bobby - being held so stiffly, and uncomfortably, but still being held - let the rest come out. His head dropped down onto Hodges’ shoulder and his own arms came up to clutch the back of the other’s lab coat.
“It’s… well, it’s not okay,” David muttered, voice choppy and unsure, “but it will be. I’m obviously here. And Jacqui. And they might not know the reasoning behind it, but the other techs will happily help to hide evidence for anything that… might befall Jon.”
Bobby couldn't help but laugh, though it was more like a choked sob.
“Obviously, I can’t give details. Plausible deniability.” David leaned his head against Bobby’s, pulling him in tighter. “Really, should’ve seen this coming; what kind of self-respecting man spells ‘Jon’ without an ‘H’?”
Hodges kept up a steady stream of words. Bobby recognised that most of them were more jokes, while the others were awkward platitudes. Somewhere along the line Hodges started to sway them, his inherent need to move taking hold. Bobby just melted into the rocking motion, fresh tears soaking David’s coat.
“I jus’ don't know what I did,” Bobby choked out, breaking into Hodges mid-sentence. “I tried, Dave, I did.”
“You didn't do anything wrong, Dawson. Some people are… not made to be with others.” Hodges ran a hand up and down Bobby’s back before resting it in between his shoulder blades. “And I mean Jon, not you– if you thought I meant it that way.”
Bobby just nodded again.
They lapsed into silence, David holding Bobby and letting him sniffle into his lab coat. The trace analyst ran his hand up and down Bobby’s spine every now and then, his own posture still held taught.
Bobby did appreciate it; the comfort, even if Hodges still couldn’t quite figure out how to relax into it himself.
It was no secret that David wasn't the best at the physical displays of affection. Though, it had been confirmed that it wasn't because he didn't like it, he was just unused to it. So, it was rare to get an arm around the shoulder. A hug, initiated by Hodges, was unheard of.
Bobby allowed himself a little smile as he continued to slump into David’s arms.
“Hey, Bobby–” Bobby felt it as Hodges turned to the door to see Warrick in the doorway, presumably with an evidence bag in hand. Bobby couldn't bring himself to lift his head off of David’s shoulder, even as his cheeks started to flush with embarrassment at being found crying by someone that was only really a colleague. Or a work friend at best. “Are you– is he okay?”
Hodges shook his head, holding his arms around Bobby tighter. “You might wanna come back later.” Warrick nodded, giving a concerned glance to the ballistics tech. The CSI started to walk away when Hodges called out. “Hey, could you get Jacqui?”
Warrick nodded, before he started to walk away with a touch of haste.
Jacqui didn’t dawdle in getting to the two lab analysts, her steps echoing slightly under the hubbub of the lab as she made it to ballistics.
Like Hodges, one glance at Bobby had her immediately cursing Jon’s bloodline both past and potentially future. Thankfully, Bobby had calmed down by then, and simply let the vague threats to his ex wash over him.
Jacqui and David had then very definitively confirmed that Jon and him had officially broken up, which Bobby somewhat tearfully confirmed.
After another round of hugs, this time from Jacqui, and Jacqui using her makeup to conceal the darkening bruise, Bobby had them all get back to work. They’d agreed, hesitantly, and only with a promise that Bobby would page them if he needed anything.
Thankfully, the rest of shift went by with little excitement. Nick stopped by to apologise. Bobby then apologised in turn for shouting. Warrick also dropped off his evidence, mercifully not mentioning the prior situation. Nobody else mentioned anything, so Bobby had to hope that nothing had spread too far.
In the locker room, he was cornered by Jacqui and David again, who were insistent that he not be alone at his apartment. At least for that night. David even offered his spare room. It was normally reserved for his mother, but she was off touring Europe.
Bobby eventually caved underneath their combined fussing. Hodges didn’t even let him drive his own car on the way over, making Bobby sit in the passenger seat.
It was touching, how much they cared.
If a few more tears squeezed out on the ride to Hodges’, then the man didn’t mention it.
Bobby loved his friends. And he was so very grateful that they loved him back.
They were on David’s sofa, empty ice cream tubs left on the coffee table, and some nature documentary was playing quietly on the TV. David himself was rattling off about what he’d done that day, and how the CSIs didn’t appreciate him nearly enough.
He said that Bobby didn’t have to worry about rumours about him and Nick, as he and Jacqui had successfully muddied the waters. All he would have to deal with was people thinking Nick accidentally hit him in the face with a locker door. David had been spreading more outlandish gossip in order to make Jacqui’s seem more true.
“Hey,” Hodges turned to the other man at the soft interruption. “Thanks, Dave. For… y’know.” Bobby made a gesture to the room with his hand, looking resolutely at the school of fish on the screen.
“What else are colleagues for, Dawson?”
Bobby fought against the burning behind his eyes and nodded.
And later, falling asleep in a foreign bed, Bobby let himself cry at the relationship he’d lost and would never get the chance to recover.