Hide the Truth Inside- Nick struggles with his feelings for one of his coworkers as a case hits far too close to home. Nick/Greg

Note: This is set sometime before Grissom leaving. I started writting this story before he ran away to plan world domination with Sara in Costa Rica.


Nick ducked under the yellow crime scene tape without a second thought. He had gotten the call maybe ten minutes ago, a 419 in an apartment just inside their jurisdiction. Grissom had told him that he would be working with Catherine. Since she was closer she would be on the scene by the time he arrived. It was an alright apartment building, not overly expensive but also not falling apart like many of the buildings that Nick had been called to. The area was one of the better areas of Las Vegas, but Nick knew from experience that that didn't mean anything. He had seen some of the most brutal slayings in some of the nicest places.

Just outside of the door, a man was sitting on a chair wearing nothing but his boxers and a bathrobe. He was a squat man, balding on the back of his head. He ran a chubby hand over his obvious comb over as he gave a statement to a detective. With a heavy sigh, the man leaned over, resting his elbows resting on his knees and his face in his hands.

"He's been here for a while now, a couple of years, but I've never even seen him," The man, identified as Mr. Andrews, said, "He likes to play his music real loud in the evening. I'm in the apartment right beneath him, number 256, so I can hear it real loud. He normally shuts it off around nine, but he started playing it around eleven. He was still playing it at midnight. I can't have that. I know it's Friday, but my kids have to sleep. The superintendent is always out Fridays, so I decided to come up here and yell at him myself. The door was open when I got up here, and he didn't answer when I called, so I just went in. I saw the blood and called 911. The operator told me to try to find him, and, I did. I've been sitting out here since then."

The officer nodded and wrote down the information, but Nick knew that he would have to question the man again. For the moment though he looked like he needed some time to digest what had happened. Although the rule was that the one who found the body was always the first suspect, he had trouble believing that this overweight family man was the sort who could kill. Even if he had seen the sweetest little old lady be guilty while her delinquent grandson was innocent, something in his gut told him that this man was just in shock, not guilt.

Nick's first thought as he looked at the apartment was that they couldn't be dealing with someone out of their early twenties. Framed posters covered every available bit of wall space. A large number of them were signed, even more had concert tickets tucked in the bottom right corner. One whole wall of the living room was devoted to an entertainment system. The TV in the middle was nothing to brag about, but the stereo system was top of the line. The CD changer was one of the nicest he had seen, and the library was extensive. Nick had to admit, if he owned this set up, he'd be blasting out music at all hours of the night too.

"I take it you got most of the story on the way in?" Catherine asked, "He's been telling it to every officer who will listen."

"The guy who lives here plays music, guy sitting outside gets irritated, says his kids are sleeping so he comes up here and finds the body. I got that bit." Nick sighed, "So, what do you think?"

"Shame it's Greg's night off," Catherin noted from her position on the floor, "He would have loved this place,"

Nick nodded, noting that he recognized many of the band names from the younger CSI's rambling and what he had listened to during his time in the lab. Nick's eyes traveled from the posters to the stereo system again before looking at the evidence. Catherine did have a point, he would have died and gone to heaven if he had gotten called to this place. 'Shame his soul mate here is probably the dead guy.' Nick thought. He felt an odd pang course through his heart at the thought, but he couldn't say if it was at the thought of someone being so perfect for his friend or that this person was dead. He didn't care to examine it any further.

"I meant the evidence," Nick said, forcing his mind away from Greg.

"Take a look for yourself. No signs of a forced entry, but defiantly a sign of a big struggle in the living room."

Blood was splattered on the wall and was soaking into the carpet. The coffee table was turned on its side, blood and some tissue was visible on one of the sharp corners. Catherine snapped a photo of it and bagged it. Pieces of broken dishes, each with a different pattern on the edges, laid on the floor, mixed with some glass from a broken lamp. Catherine snapped photos of it and placed the glass in a bag, many of them had blood on them. Nick mentally pieced the glass together. The dish with a blue floral pattern around the edge had a large section missing.

"The DB is in the bedroom," The older CSI noted, pointing to a bloody handprint on the doorway.

"Any ID?" Nick asked, peering in.

The body laid face down in the bed, still wearing an old T-shirt, but his thin pajama pants had been pulled almost all of the way off. The fabric still clung to the man's left foot. His arms bore many slashes, defensive wounds by the look of it, but the majority of the blood seemed to come from beneath the body. As soon as the medical examiner arrived he'd be able to see where it was coming from.

"A neighbor, not the one who's outside right now, but his next door neighbor, Mr. Benson, said that it wasn't the guy who lives here. Apparently he's never see this man before, but he does have some strong opinions about the man who does live here." Catherine said from the other side of the room as Nick got to work.

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"He said the guy who lives here is a real sicko, Mr. Benson moved into the apartment next to him sometime last year, but he doesn't even know his name. Lives alone, doesn't seem to have any friends, only goes out at night, comes back smelling like death, and you'll love this last part."

"Let's hear it," Nick moved past the body to the bedside table. He pulled a drawer open and peered inside.

"He's seen our guy carrying around some pretty nasty pictures,"

"Yeah, I'd believe that, I just found his porn collection, or at least part of it. He also has some surfing magazines shoved in here too." Nick moved the magazines to look beneath them.

"I'm not talking about porn, though that's what Mr. Benson thinks he does with it. I'm talking about pictures of dead bodies, some of them ripped apart. He saw them when the guy who lives here dropped them in hallway."

"Really? 'Cause I just found some medicine in here, says it settles stomachs and relieves nausea, seems odd that he'd have such a week stomach if he's looking at those pictures. There's some sleeping pills in here as well."

Dave stepped into the room, surprising Nick who had not heard him come in. He took one look at the body and sighed.

"I hate it when they're all cut up like this," he muttered before moving to the body, "From what I saw coming in and what's soaking into the bed I'd say he probably bled out, but I'll have to get him back to the lab to be sure. There is trauma to the dead, consistent with falling and scraping his head, did that table have blood on it?"

"Yeah," Nick sighed, "But that part is our job."

"Okay, don't worry, I'm happy where I am, not thinking about switching jobs like Sanders did. Time of death…" Dave pulled a thermometer out, checking that is suspicions were correct, "…maybe an hour or two ago, he's still hot. There's a substance around the anus, looks like it could be some sort of lubricant, might be a bit of blood mixed in with it. Possible signs of sexual trauma, but it very well could have been consensual if the other guy wasn't careful enough. Ready to roll him?"

Nick nodded and Dave rolled the body on its back. Nick could now see what had caused the massive amount of bleeding, there was a shard of broken glass shoved in his neck. The end sticking out had a blue floral pattern, the same as the broken dish in the living room. Nick took a photograph.

"So, you think it could have been the guy who lives here?" Catherine asked as they moved back into the living room while Dave bagged the body.

"A dead body shows up in his apartment? You bet he's a suspect," Nick sighed heavily, looking over the apartment for anything that they had missed, "Plus you said that there was no sign of forced entry, you don't need to break into your own house. But then again, when you leave your own house you close the door behind you, our guy from downstairs said it was left open."

A sudden thump snapped Nick out of his thoughts. His eyes shot to the door, worried that the killer had returned. He mentally smacked himself for even thinking that, the police would never have let him through. If someone was allowed to walk in then the police would have had to have recognized them.

"Greg, isn't it your day off?" Catherine asked, looking at him skeptically, "You've been putting in too much OT, why don't you go home. Nick and I have it under control here."

Nick looked his friend up and down. He was wearing one of his loudest shirts, the type that had disappeared when he started working in the field. His CSI vest that they wore to scenes was nowhere to be seen and his hands hung loose and empty at his sides, he did not have his kit with him. Next to his feet, a plastic shopping bag sat, the source of the thump. Nick's mind scanned over the apartment again. The posters, the stereo system, the CD's, even the surfing magazines, they all fit his friend too well.

"Greg," Nick stepped forward, but his friend backed away. He looked like a nervous animal, ready to bolt. The image almost brought tears to his eyes, but he tried to focus on the task at hand. He couldn't let Greg see what was in that next room. Nick strengthened his accent, knowing that people responded well to it, especially Greg, "Common Greggo,"

Greg's eyes traveled behind Nick and Catherine to the blood spatter on the walls. They followed to the floor, reaching the doorway to the bedroom. From where he was standing, Nick knew that he would be able to see Dave.

"Jesse!" Greg said quickly, dashing forward. Nick lunged to the side, trying to catch his friend before the younger CSI saw something he would regret. He missed and Greg slipped past him, only getting three steps into the room before he froze.

"Hey, I thought it was your night off," Dave said with a smile, not realizing what was going on.

Nick moved behind the younger CSI, placing his hand on Greg's shoulders. He could feel him tense under his touch, but he didn't move. They stood there together as Greg watched as the body get loaded into a black bag and wheeled out of the room. He took a step forward, reaching out to the bed. His fingers lightly brushed against the sheets, blood coming off on his finger tips.

"Com'on Greggo," Nick tried to keep his long time friend calm, but he could feel the younger man's defenses crumbling away, "Catherine can take care of this, lets go back to the lab."

Greg nodded. His eyes left the bloody bed for the first time since he entered the room as he turned to face Nick. His eyes were so full of pain, Nick's heart filled with pain.

"Yeah, let's go."


Thank you for reading my story. I am going to try as best as I can to post a new chapter up once a week, most likely on Fridays. This is my first CSI fanfic, but I doubt that it will be my last. I only discovered it around September and I've been watching as many old episodes as I can. There might be some inaccuracies, please let me know if you spot any. Should you choose to review, thank you very much for your support (or falmes, whichever way it goes).