Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot!
The slam of the truck door woke Nick from his reverie and he realized they had arrived back at the crime lab already. He shook his head to clear it enough for him to hop out and follow his supervisor in to the building so that they could log the evidence they had found. As soon as that was done he could head home and work out the problem currently occupying all the space inside his head. Tomorrow was his day off, so maybe Greg could call in sick and they could spend the day working through the astronomical fight they had had yesterday. Nick was fully prepared to suggest this today at work, Greg having been gone when he woke up, but the blonde hadn't shown up at the lab. He had probably already called in sick, which would make doing it again tomorrow all the more believable.
Nick paused in his work to pinch the bridge of his nose, stress all but rolling off of his form in waves. He and Greg had been together a long time. A very long time. They had been dating ever since four months after Greg came to work at the crime lab, and that was nine years ago. They had been living together for six of those nine years, although Greg still paid for his old apartment, even if it was literally empty. Why you ask? Because no one knew they were even dating, let alone living together. And there it was, the reason they had fought. For the first few years Greg had gone along with Nick's insistence that they tell no one of their relationship. He hated it, but he had agreed because Nick wasn't ready. But after five years he had begun to drop hints that maybe it was time they told someone. And about two years ago, the fights had started. Greg had become impatient.
He had threatened to leave many times, but Nick infallibly came to home to loud music and a locked bedroom door. Greg had installed the lock one day on his day off. In these instances he was considerate enough to leave spare clothes on the couch for Nick, but refused to speak to him. Today would be no different, Nick supposed. He would arrive home, probably bang on the bedroom door for an hour, then sleep on the couch and wake up in the middle of the day to find the bedroom unlocked. He would creep in and they would tentatively try and make up. He sensed that this time it was going to take a bit more however. Yesterday's fight had truly been huge. It had ended with Greg's silence, and Nick had never in his life seen Greg so still and wordless.
As soon as Grissom let him leave, Nick headed for his own vehicle and threw it quickly in to gear. The sooner he got home, the sooner he could begin to smooth over Greg's ruffled feathers and bide himself a little more time. He couldn't even give any new reasons for why he hadn't let them come out yet. Greg had demanded to know his reasons and had quickly disproved them one by one, cutting all of Nick's rationales in half. And yet still no one knew about them. Still Nick was terrified; of what he didn't know, but he knew he was safe. Greg would never do anything he didn't want him to. He often threatened to leave, and he had done so last night. Nick could remember him saying that if they had to be a secret then they couldn't be together. But how many times had he heard that line? Too many times to count.
Their house came in to view and Nick sighed, gathering all of his strength and patience about him as he maneuvered the pick up truck in to the driveway. The garage door was closed like it usually was, his boyfriend being overly fanatic about taking care of his precious car. He sighed again as he strolled as slowly as he dared across the dry grass of the front lawn. The Vegas heat wasn't very great for growing anything beyond thistles, so their grass didn't need cutting very often, a fact for which they were both very glad. As per usual, the door was locked – no one in their job would ever leave a door unlocked – so Nick rummaged in his pocket for his keys and slid the right one in to the slot. It turned easily and he swung the door inwards, stopping short just inside the front hallway.
Something was wrong. He could feel it even a single footstep in to the home. There was something very wrong in here, something very different, and it freaked him out. Hoping nothing bad had happened and that Greg was ok, Nick carefully pulled the gun from his hip and softly shut the door behind himself. He walked slowly to the closest room, the kitchen, but nothing was off in that room. He was surprised at the lack of dirty dishes sitting on the counter or table, but that wasn't what was wrong, so he continued. The living room was next, but try as he might he couldn't spot what was out of place. He knew there was something wrong with this room, even though his mind couldn't figure out what. However, since there was nothing criminal, he continued on. He paused outside the bathroom and took a quick peek in. The sense of foreboding that was settling in his stomach suddenly spiked when he saw that the counter was cleared of Greg's various hair products. A sudden new fear gripped him and Nick took five big steps down the hall, pushing open the bedroom door.
And there it was, his worst fear, waiting patiently for him. The bed was made, and the floor was clear of Greg's cast off dirty clothing. The dresser on the right side of the room had all of its drawers open, and they were all empty. The side table on the right side of the bed was also open and empty, save for a small slip of paper folded neatly and placed on top in the center. Afraid of just what it would tell him, Nick picked it up. It was thick printer paper, and when he opened it, it had only one word written on the inside in Greg's careful small script. 'Goodbye'. The breath left Nick in one great rush and he was suddenly dizzy. The letter fell from his hands and he stared blindly at nothing in particular, the single word on that paper playing in his head over and over again in his lover's voice.
Greg had left him. He had actually left this time. Nick couldn't believe it. He had been threatening to do it for so long Nick had felt that it was sure to never happen. He'd thought Greg was just being over-dramatic to try and make a point. His chest constricted and his knees began to tremble. The world tilted and Nick found himself crashing to his knees in his very empty home, the place they had lived in together for six beautiful years. Now it was gone, all of it. And staring at the letter, refolded and sitting a foot away, he knew he had done it by himself. A person could only get hurt so many times before they broke, and Greg had broken.
It took a while before Nick's brain finally began working again and he was able to peel himself up off the floor. Seconds later he was flying back out of the home, not even bothering to stop and lock the door, and throwing himself in to his truck. Greg still had his old apartment, even though neither of them had set foot in it in over five years. That would be the most logical place for him to retreat to with all of his things. Where else could he go? Luckily Nick's key ring still held an almost forgotten brass key to Greg's old place, given to him after the first year of dating. He fingered it as he tore through the streets, his mind struggling to remember the directions he had once had memorized. He'd only let himself forget because he had thought that they would never have to come here again. It was literally empty. Not even a sock or couch had been left behind. They had combined their furniture and sold the excess.
The complex was quiet when he pulled up, most people having just gotten to work by now. This meant that the stairs were clear of people and he was able to run up the three flights to Greg's floor unimpeded. The apartment door, when he reached it, sparked old memories that created a burning in behind his eyes. He fought back the sensation and shoved his brass key in to the lock. It took a bit of fighting to get it to turn, the door being unused for so long and all, but eventually it slid open and Nick almost laughed in the rush of success. He left his keys in the door and the door wide open as he rushed about the apartment calling Greg's name. He received no verbal answer but really he hadn't expected one. He dashed in to the bare kitchen, then the room that had once been a living room. It resembled more of a dark cave now, so full of dust and so lacking in light and warmth. The bathroom was clear. Nick sighed and stepped up to the bedroom, pushing the door open and preparing his words in his mind.
He never got a chance to use them. The bedroom was empty. Greg wasn't here. Flabbergasted, Nick stood in the doorway and took in the empty room, his mind absolutely blank. The only thing going through his head was that Greg wasn't here. Greg wasn't here. Where in the hell else could he be? Nick had no idea. He knew of no friends that Greg had that were close enough for him to run to their place indefinitely. They spent all of their free time together, since they got very little of it. Occasionally they would go out with the gang from work, but they were still together. They'd almost never gone anywhere without each other. So Nick was at a loss.
He stayed there for hours, and evening found him seated on the floor, still staring at the bedroom that had nothing in it. People started to return home from work to the other apartments finally had him rousing from his stupor. Greg had to come in to work tonight. Nick could find him at work, drag him somewhere private, and beg him to come home. He could swear up and down that they would find a way to work this out because…well because they just had to. Nick was nothing without Greg; he was like his air. With renewed purpose Nick heaved himself up and bolted, pausing only to finally pay attention to the fact that doors must be locked when leaving. He drove a bit like a maniac all the way to work, arriving late, and hoped no one would notice that he was wearing the same clothes that he was yesterday. Surprisingly no one did. They all seemed preoccupied with a big case that had come in.
Nick was about to excuse himself to go search for his lover when Grissom called all of their attention to himself. He announced that they were all on this one case and that they would have to work twice as hard since they were short-handed. Nick asked what he meant by that and Grissom raised an eyebrow before filling him in.
"Greg's off for the next month, you would have known that if you had come to the meeting on time." His next words fell on deaf ears, as Nick's world had suddenly begun to spin out of control. Greg was gone for a month? He was gone and Nick didn't even have a clue where. Sara was glaring at him and Grissom was talking again, so he tried to pay attention. But how could he possibly focus when his whole world was falling away from under his feet? How could he possibly go on when his entire life had just left with only a single word for goodbye? He was of no use for the rest of the night, and Grissom ended up sending him home early in exasperation, telling him to get some rest. Rest was not what he needed. What he needed was to find out where Greg had gone.
At home Nick took one step inside and was immediately assaulted by the feeling that something was wrong again. He knew what it was now. Greg wasn't here. He figured out now what it was that was different about the living room. There were CDs missing from the shelf; only country was left. The movie cabinet was once more only half filled. And there was a picture missing from the walls. The one picture that belonged to Greg and only Greg, the one of him and his parents and Nana and Papa. The glaring omission of objects Nick had gotten so used to seeing every day was like a hole inside of him. A hole that only Greg could fill.
The rest of his day was spent sitting on his couch, a couch that had really been Greg's, and trying to think of places where he might go. He could be in California; he was off for a whole month after all. But Nick didn't know the number of his parents' house. He wouldn't be with any of their neighbors. None of his family lived anywhere near Las Vegas. He had no college buddies or old high school friends living in the city. Nick was at a complete loss. When he hauled himself off the couch and made his way to the bedroom he stopped in the doorway and stared at the neatly made bed. Greg never made the bed. Said it made it seem cold and looked like no one lived there. That thought stuck in Nick's mind and suddenly the fact that Greg had left him suddenly hit home. They were over. His eyes widened and his heart picked up and suddenly he was sobbing like a broken child. They couldn't be over. He wasn't ready for this to be over. He would never be ready for this to be over.
The next three weeks were torture. Nick existed in a haze, drifting around like a ghost that didn't really exist, but tried to go through the motions of living anyway. He rose and dressed without giving thought to what he put on. He ate mechanically. He did his job with the bare minimum effort required and hardly talked to anyone at all. Warrick and Catherine asked many questions, but every time he thought of the fact that Greg had left him bile rose in his throat. He left their questions unanswered. At home he spent hours staring at the empty dresser, or the single worded note, wondering how he had never realized that one day Greg would make good on his threats to leave. Wondering how he could have been so stupid. So blind. He slept very little, lying away for hours only to wake later from a nightmare in which he never saw Greg again. He tried Greg's cell phone many times, only to be sent straight to voicemail. He left many messages, but either they were never found or they were all ignored. He hoped it was the first. He prayed it was the first.
It was the beginning of the fourth week that finally someone took him in hand. He was leaving shift, his face blank as he walked to his truck, when suddenly he felt the burning behind his eyes. It barely even registered in his head what that meant until he felt a tear falling from his eye. He took a shuddering breath, but it did no good. By the time he reached his truck he was all out bawling, leaning forward against the vehicle and burying his face against the glass. His broken noises echoed around the parking garage, and he thought he was alone until he heard a soft sigh come from next to him. Somehow thinking in the back of his brain that it might be Greg he whipped around, hope almost blossoming in his chest. That hope died when he was met with the inexplicable gaze of Sara Sidle. She stood with her arms crossed and her weight all on one foot, the other tapping contemplatively. She looked at him with an inscrutable face for a long time before she said something he needed desperately to hear.
"I know where he is," she told him softly. He gaped at her, his eyes still leaking out tears. He couldn't even fathom how she knew what he was crying about, but at the moment he couldn't bring himself to care. He couldn't even bring himself to care to wonder why she knew that he would need to know exactly where Greg was. It wasn't as if she knew about their relationship, no one did. He had made sure of that. And making sure of that had consequently drove Greg from him. A fresh wave of tears began to spill out of him and he took a second shuddering breath.
"Where?" it was the only thing he could get out. She stared at him for a long time as if wondering whether or not it was a good idea to tell him. He begged her, pleaded, took her by the shoulders and poured his heart in to trying to convince her to tell him. She watched him make a spectacle of himself and once again she sighed. Told him to follow her in his truck. He thanked her profusely, even pausing long enough to hug her tightly, creating a wet patch on her shoulder. Then he leapt in to his truck and revved the engine, ready to tear out of the lot and fly with all speed to Greg. To bring him home. He was ready to do whatever it would take to fix it this time. He absently wondered just what it would take.
Sara's slow pace as he followed her through the streets of Las Vegas had him squirming in his driver's seat, urgent to go faster. Despite showing that she knew he needed to know where Greg was, she seemed to lack the knowledge of just how much he needed it. Either that or she did know and was deliberately punishing him for something by driving slower than he thought they should be going. When she finally turned off the road and in to a parking lot he couldn't help rolling his eyes and letting the hope in his chest deflate considerably. He got out of his truck and waited for her to get out before he crossed his arms and sighed hopelessly.
"He's not here Sara, I already checked here," he told her. She seemed undeterred by this news. She was staring at him with that funny look again and he had the distinct impression that he was taking some kind of test of worth. He wondered absently if he would pass, and then why he even cared if he passed or not. All he cared about now was finding his lost lover and fixing things between them. Eventually she shook her head.
"You checked as soon as you knew he was gone, right?" she asked him. He nodded before he could realize the implications of what that revealed of how much she really knew. But before he could be stunned she was going on. "And you haven't been back since have you?" He shook his head. He hadn't bothered. She sighed and looked him right in the eye. "I let him stay at my place the first night. He moved his things here after he knew you would be gone." Nick stared at her. She knew about them. And she had helped Greg leave him. He felt rage rearing up inside of him, but it was smothered by sorrow that Greg would go to such lengths to avoid him.
And yet, here was Sara telling him everything. Maybe she saw a chance for him to make things better? Hope once again swelled as a tiny little bubble, but it wasn't very big this time. His coworker turned and began to lead the way, and Nick was quick to follow. She led him in to the building that was once again quiet, people arriving at work even as they walked in. She headed straight for the elevator, and Nick hesitated, looking longingly at the stairs. It was a well-known fact that he was claustrophobic after the incident in the box. Sara, however, raised her eyebrows and gave him a challenging look. She seemed to be asking 'well, would you do this for him'? She seemed to be questioning if he loved Greg enough to step in to the elevator. With a deep breath he stepped in next to her, screwing his eyes shut and clenching his fists.
The ride took seconds, though it felt like hours to him. But soon he was stumbling out of the suspended metal box of potential death and hurrying in the right direction. He stopped in front of the door and looked to Sara expectantly. She rolled her eyes with a long suffering "you're the one with the key". He didn't hesitate to whip the key itself out of his pocket and open the door for her. She never mentioned that she now had her own key. Nick was skeptical when he first stepped in and spotted the still bare living room. However, he then looked in to the kitchen and saw bag after bag of take out food, half filled cartons left out in random places, chopsticks and forks and toothpicks thrown in a small heap in one corner of the furniture lacking room. Sara led him right past all of that and headed straight for the bedroom. Nick followed eagerly.
He had expected to be spotted and he had expected anger. What he hadn't expected was to find Greg huddled in the corner wearing an old t-shirt that actually belonged to Nick. His face was pale and his eyes were red rimmed. His hair was wild, sticking up one side and flat on the other. He didn't even look up when his door opened, and so Nick was able to watch him as he rocked gently back and forth, his hand rubbing absently at the front of the shirt. Almost like he had worn it specifically because it belonged to Nick. Sara took in his state just as quick as Nick, and she went over right away to kneel in front of him. He looked up at her and the two new comers could see tears marring his features.
"Oh Greg," Sara murmured. Greg choked on his own air, and a sob escaped him. "When was the last time you slept sweetie?" She had told Nick that she hadn't been to visit Greg in a week at his own request. Greg could only shake his head and stare helplessly at her, another sob coming out. He tried to speak, but only ended up breaking down, his head falling back against the wall and his eyes closing tight as sobs tore out of his body again and again. Nick stood in the doorway, unable to move an inch.
"I can't sleep…" Greg choked out, his voice broken and cracking, each word separated by weak tears. "I can't eat, I can't…I can't do anything Sara, I can't even be! He's not here and he'll never be here and I don't even know why anymore. I can't do this Sara!" he broke even farther, clutching desperately at the shirt and bringing it up to cover his face. Nick caught a flash of the expression of true anguish he was wearing, unconscious of the fact that he was wearing the same expression. His own tears were rapid falling as he listened to Greg's desperate plea for sanity. "Why couldn't I have been more patient?" came the sudden broken wondering from behind the shirt. Nick recoiled from the heat of Sara's glare.
"Nine years is a long time to be patient Greg, you should never have had to wait that long," she was speaking to Greg but looking at Nick, and the words were cutting in to them both. Nick couldn't look away from her, but Greg only gave another cry.
"I told him I would wait forever Sara. How could I break my promise? I don't think I can do this." He repeated himself and Nick finally closed his eyes to Sara's piercing stare. She muttered something about him not being able to wait forever. "I just wanted to be able to show them how much I love him. Why couldn't he see that?" Nick's eyes flew back open and the fresh tears sprang up. He'd never heard it being put that way; not in all times they had talked of this. His brain paused. Of course not. They had never talked about this. They had only fought and yelled, the heat of the moment wearing them down to harsh basic words that could never solve anything. Sara seemed to almost read his mind, for she reached out and tugged the shirt away from Greg's face and looked him in the eye.
"Because you never told him that sweetheart," she pointed out. He looked at her helplessly and buried his face in his hands, weeping so loud Nick was sure if the neighbors were home they would have heard him. He stared down at the shell of the man he loved, hating that he had created this. He longed for a way to just make it all go away, for an idea to strike him that would make everything all better. Nothing came to him, but he hadn't expected it to anyway. This was his punishment for his sins against Greg. He only regretted that Greg had to bear the brunt of the punishment.
"I'll never get to tell him now," Greg mourned, his words coming out as desperate deep breaths. He dropped his head and cried even harder, but Sara only shook her head and looked over at the man standing in the doorway, wondering how her next words would shape how this turned out.
"On the contrary Greg, you just did," she admitted softly. He looked up her in confusion, seeing her look off to the side, and followed her gaze. He saw Nick's feet first, since his head was still hanging pretty low. He slowly let his eyes crawl up the familiar body and took in the sight of a very haggard, tired, and sorry looking Stokes. Nick Stokes. The man he had left. If they couldn't be open, they couldn't be together. His own words played in his head, and he dropped his head back without breaking eye contact, crying harder and clutching for fistfuls of the t-shirt he was wearing. Nick was crying too, harder than he had in his entire life. He leaned as if he wanted to step forward towards Greg but he hesitated, unsure of everything between them.
It was when Greg couldn't hold in his sobs that Nick moved. It was as if there was a force inside his chest pulling him forward. He couldn't have cared less right then if he was supposed to or not supposed to, all he knew was that Greg was hurting and he was overwhelmed by the need to comfort him. He was across the room in a flash, falling to his knees and pulling the other man in to his chest. He cradled Greg in his arms and buried his face in the wild blonde hair, wetting in with his tears. Greg reeked, but he barely noticed, other than to register the fact that he hadn't showered, and probably because he couldn't make himself do anything but sit and cry.
He rocked them gently back and forth as they both cried loudly, completely forgetting that Sara was even there. She back away from them to lean against the opposite wall, wanting to give them their privacy, but not yet sure if it was a good idea to leave them alone. She watched Greg wrap one arm around himself and the other around Nick as if afraid to let go of either one.
"It's not this easy Nick," Greg's watery words came from somewhere in the vicinity of his chest, muffled by his shirt. "Giving me a hug isn't going to make it go away this time. I know I said I'd wait forever, and I meant it, and I tried. I did. But it hurts Nick, I can't do it anymore." He didn't pull away, despite his words. Nick wept harder, wishing the ground would just open up and swallow him down in to hell already. He knew that he deserved it, more than anyone who had ever murdered had deserved it before. If there was a lower person on the planet than him, he had never heard of them.
"I know," was all he could find in himself to say. His arms tightened and he rocked them side to side in a soothing manner. For a very long time, what must have been hours, they stayed like that. Nick clung to Greg and Greg clung to the shirt. Both of them cried, and it seemed for a while that they might cry themselves in to dehydration. There was no end to the pain, no end to the tears. When at long last the hiccups had subsided and the horrible choking noises had stopped coming, Nick realized that he had better start talking, or else this was all for naught and he would really lose the best thing that had ever happened to him.
But he found he had no idea what to say. He was all out of excuses, and on the inside he knew that the time had come where excuses would no longer be accepted anyway. All the reasons in the world mattered for nothing at this point. What he needed now was a miracle, but Nick had lost contact with the God his parents had taught him about a long time ago. He hadn't actually knelt to pray in so long that he wasn't sure if his prayers would be answered now. He found himself making a bargain then. He opened his eyes and glanced up at the heavens, sending out his soul and asking for just one thing. Just one miracle. Should God help him now he would spend the rest of his life in devotion, but he needed help like never before. Before he knew what he was doing he was babbling, marking time for an answer from God.
"I don't know what to do Greg," he confessed. "I'd do anything if only it would make it better. I'm so sorry that I hurt you baby. I never meant for you to take the fall for my weaknesses. I just wish I knew what the answer was now. I'm not kidding Greg, I'd…I'd tell my parents right now if I thought it would help." He buried his face in Greg's hair again, hoping for the sign from the heavens to come down and strike him soon. He was losing, and this was something he couldn't stand to lose.
Greg's marked silence rang throughout the room, and he felt the man in his arms fighting not to shake, not to begin his crying anew. The silence stretched on forever until Nick finally got it. Greg was only without words when Nick had already used the words. The Texan felt his breath stop and his heart begin to race even faster than it was already going. His eyes widened and panic filled his system, sending him straight in to overdrive. He sensed rather than felt Greg's jaw tense as he bit his tongue to keep from saying anything, and he let out his breath in a soft panic-ridden rush.
"That's what you want…isn't it? You want me to tell me parents." The words seemed to fill up the room and suddenly the air was so thick with fear it could have been walked upon. Greg's silence got even louder and he bit down harder on his tongue. He stared down at the shirt he was grasping tightly. He didn't want to say it out loud, not after so long of protecting Nick, letting him have his way. He almost felt that if he asked for this now, it would all fall apart and he would never get it.
The silence went on and on, and Sara looked down at the floorboards beneath her, closing her eyes in defeat. Maybe things weren't going to work out; maybe true love really couldn't conquer all. Neither she nor Greg could bring themselves to believe that this was really the point where they all had to give up. After all that waiting and all the emotions that the blonde man had put in to this, was this really how it was going to end up?
"Hi mom." Nick's voice had both of their heads whipping up, and they stared in total and complete shock. For there was Nick holding his black cell phone to his ear and squeezing his eyes shut, yet another tear leaking out. The sound of Jillian Stokes' reply was audible even across the room, telling both Greg and Sara that the call was real. Nick had called home. But to say what? They got their answer as Nick jumped right in to the heart of the matter. "Mom, will you stop talking for two seconds? I got…I have something to tell you. I…I met someone. A long time ago. I've been in a very serious relationship for nine years now. What?…Why didn't I ever say something?…Well, here's the thing Ma…" Nick took a deep breath and opened his eyes, staring up at God.
"It's a man. I've been dating a man for nine years. His name is Greg," Nick gave a small sad laugh, "you'd hate him." A small smile appeared on his lips, one that said he was finally giving in. "He's eccentric and unpredictable and weird and he has absolutely no table manners to speak of. You wouldn't like him one bit. But you know what? I don't care. Because I love him and that's all that counts. I'm sick of lying to you ma; I've always known I was gay. What?…Susie Appleton? I made her up; there never was a Susie Appleton. There's only ever been Greg." In his arms, Greg himself was shaking violently. Now that he was getting something he had always wanted, he was almost terrified of it, like he wasn't sure what to make of it now.
Nick didn't say much more after that, but he held the phone to his ear for a very long time, and the sound of Jillian speaking incoherently reached the ears of the other two. After a very, very, very long time Nick nodded and said, "I understand" very quietly. Then he hung up. For a moment he simply stared at the floor, the phone falling from his suddenly loose fingers. When he looked up again his eyes were streaming heavily as he met gazes with the man he loved.
"I've been disowned," he whispered brokenly. "I…I don't have a family." He sounded as if he still couldn't quite bring himself to believe it. But there wasn't even a drop of regret anywhere on him or in his voice. He bore the loss with his back straight because he had known it was a possibility. He also knew that it was worth it if he could keep Greg with him. He and his family had never gotten along, and he had always known that they would not accept his homosexuality. It was his fault really that it had to come to this. Maybe if they had known years ago he would have been forgiven by now. However, that didn't matter. What really mattered now was the forgiveness he sought from Greg. The blonde was looking at him with shining eyes and a quivering lip.
"You have me," he offered, his voice barely as loud as Nick's whisper. The Texan stared down at him, his eyes widening. Then he cried out and caught Greg to his chest again. It wasn't exactly accepting his apology, and it didn't mean that everything was all better, but it was a start. It was the sign from God he had been waiting for. A small miracle. His breath caught in his chest as he held his love closer and pressed a kiss in to his dirty hair. Greg accepted it and snuggled deeper in to the arms he thought he had lost forever. Sara smiled at them from across the room and stood up quietly, knowing that now she could leave them alone. They would be just fine.
But Nick saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, and he jerked his head in her direction. The movement was so sudden it made her stop almost guiltily. She shook the feeling off and gave him a quizzical stare, wondering why he was pinning her to the spot with some unreadable look in his eyes. He stared back at her for a moment longer before his expression hardened and his back straightened.
"I'm not done," he announced. He pulled away from Greg slightly, but only enough to stand. Then he reached down and pulled Greg to his slightly unsteady feet. The blonde was wearing a wrinkled pair of black boxers under the red shirt that really belonged to Nick. He was barefoot, and Nick cast around for a pair of shoes. They were kicked off haphazardly beside the sleeping bag, so he knelt and plucked them off the floor, pressing Greg's feet in to them for him. The blonde was giving off confused noises and pressing a hand to the wall for support, feeling a little dizzy. He had, after all, spent about four days doing nothing but sit and cry.
"Not done? Not done what?" he asked groggily, trying in vain to find his footing and stop the world from spinning. Nick took his hand and he found himself instantly grounded, staring in to the eyes he loved so much, a million different flashes of those eyes in different moods going through his mind. Nick paused and looked back at him with an intent expression on his face.
"Earning the right to love you," he said calmly, then he pulled on Greg's hand before the younger man had time to process that and they left the bedroom. Sara scurried to follow as Nick led them out of the apartment and down to his truck, Greg still in only boxers and with no socks on inside his trainers. The blonde looked backwards and Sara but she was just as confused as he was. Nick whipped his cell out of his pocket and was punching buttons like mad, but making no calls. Who he was texting they had no idea, and he didn't offer any explanations. He just ushered them in to his truck and hopped in himself, whipping out of the parking lot and speeding down the road.
The truck ride was silent, as neither of the two passengers really knew what to say. Nick was focused on driving, and distracted by the war waging inside his head. One part of him was trying its very best to talk him out of doing what he was about to do, but he was done listening to that part of himself. He was through being afraid of the world. If the world wanted to cast him out for being who he was then so be it; he would leave this one behind, take Greg, and find a new one that accepted them. He was ready to listen to the part of him that came from the heart, the one that screamed out its pride every time Greg stood near.
As the truck pulled up to the lab, Greg and Sara looked at each other with wide eyes. Nick swung in to the parking lot and was so hyped up that he actually parked on the line that separated two parking spots, but didn't care one ounce. He stepped out of the truck and stood waiting impatiently for the others to do the same. When they had cautiously followed him, the first thing he did was reach out and take a hold of Greg's hand, lacing their fingers together. Greg looked over at him incredulously, amazed by the blatant display of public affection. If the older man wasn't careful, people were going to ask questions. Nick just shook his head and pulled them towards the building.
As the rounded the last line of cars the three of them could spot the other three CSIs standing just outside the door, as well as a few of the techs from the graveyard shift, all milling about in a loose disgruntled looking group. It was hours after shift had ended, and none of them looked terribly impressed to be standing there when they should be at home sleeping. When they caught sigh of the trio walking up all of their attention riveted on to the tall Texan.
"Nick, what the hell?" Warrick called across the remaining space between them. "What's with the secret meeting man? I'm tired! Why did you drag me all the way back…Sanders…you forget something man? You're missing your pants." Warrick started to smirk at the younger man's state of undress, but then as he came closer they could all see the actual state he was in. They could also smell him. He looked pale and drawn, and he looked like he hadn't slept showered or eaten in days – which he hadn't.
And then at last the group noticed the last small detail that was out of place. Greg and Nick were holding hands. Eyebrows were raised all around and Warrick was smirking hard. Catherine giggled a little in her over tired state, and pointed to the obvious display of affection.
"Nick, what's this?" she asked. "Trying to tell us something?" it was meant completely as a joke on her part, and she really did not expect Nick to stand a little straighter, hold his head a little higher, and tighten his grip on Greg.
"Yes actually," he admitted. "Greg and I are dating." He looked around at their shocked faces and his eyes bored in to Warrick's and Grissom's the most intently. "I've always known I was gay, and so has Greg. We've been together a long time and I've been afraid of telling you. But I almost lost him for it and you know what? I'm through. If you've got a problem with it, it's yours. Not mine." Then his eyes locked on to Warrick only. "You got a problem with it, you lose a friend," he stated bluntly, for the whole group, though the message was partly just for his best friend.
There complete silence in the underground, the group Nick had asked to meet him here staring at him like a completely different person, and Greg and Sara staring at him with new eyes. Warrick's face almost broke in his attempt to widen his smirk even more than was humanly possible. The echo of Catherine's giggle faded away and the smile slipped off of her face. Grissom had the shell-shocked look that could only come from someone who spent more time observing bugs than talking to people. Nick just waited in silence, not loosening his hold on his boyfriend's hand, afraid that if he let go he would loose his courage. Sara and Greg held their breath, praying that no one would reject that Texan in his moment of bravery.
At long last one of their gathering broke the suspended silence, but not in the way anyone would have thought. When he could stand it no longer Warrick threw his head back and laughed until they thought he would start hyperventilating. Everyone turned and gave him an assortment of odd looks, but that only served to spur him on further. He guffawed so loud that the echoes booming around he underground caused a few people on the streets outside to stop and look around. His chest heaved and his shoulders shook and he had to bend over and hold himself up with his hands on his knees. There were actual tears of mirth dripping from the corner of his eyes, and it took forever for him to calm down because every time he looked at the flabbergasted faces around him he would start anew.
When finally he stopped laughing, Warrick had to press a hand against his side to sooth the ache of a stitch that had formed there. He took a few deep breaths, still bent over, and shook his head from side to side while letting out a slow chuckle. Then he stood and grinned at Nick widely, still holding a hand to his side.
"I knew it the whole time, man," he announced at random. Nick, along with everyone else, gaped at him. The Texan started spluttering and waving around his free hand.
"How?" he demanded. "We were so careful at work!" Greg assumed a wry expression as he nodded his agreement. Nick caught it and gave him an apologetic look, making Warrick chuckle again.
"You may have been careful at work, but I been to your house," the tall man said. "Your curtains were open and you were sort of macking on the couch. Got to say, not what I was expecting to find. All I wanted was to play video games and instead I get free soft porn. Albeit it was gay porn but…it was free." He wound down with a wide smirk, and Nick tried very hard to look upset. Instead he found himself smiling too, and pulling Greg in to his arms for a tight embrace. Greg smiled to himself and didn't say a thing. Warrick's laughter having effectively broken the tension, suddenly there was a flurry of exclamations as everyone hurried to assure the two boys that they had their full support. Nick took it all in with a surprised but pleased look on his face, and Greg was trying hard not to feel overly triumphant.
After quite a long time of discussing this 'new' development in their group dynamic, it was Gil who mentioned that they should all be getting some sleep before their shifts tomorrow. All except Greg, who still had the rest of the week booked off from work. As the goodbyes were starting to be passed around, Nick caught Grissom's eye and steeled himself to make a rather hopeless request.
"Uh, I was wondering if I could have tomorrow off," he asked. He brought his hand up and made the most obviously fake cough ever. "I feel a little sick." He heard snickers all around and fought not to smile, knowing he didn't really have a great chance of getting what he wanted. It was worth a shot though. To his complete amazement, his boss didn't even crack a smile. Instead he donned a very concerned look and nodded as if completely serious.
"Yes, I think you might have a temperature," he agreed, despite the glaringly obvious fact that he hadn't even touched Nick. "I guess you'll just have to spend the rest of the week away on sick leave. Dear me, how sad. Get well soon." He nodded in complete seriousness, then turned on his heel and strode away before throwing his head back and laughing boomingly. The entire group stared after him in astonishment, amazed that not only had he gone along with that silly little deception, he had laughed out loud!
Shaking his head to clear it of the shock, Nick pulled Greg in closer to his side and hugged him tightly, not caring one ounce that all of their friends were watching with warm smiles. He bumped their noses together and was rewarded with a smile so full of love and gratitude he almost buckled at the knees.
"So what do you say? Want me to take care of you while I'm sick?" he grinned as Greg laughed.
"What a ridiculous statement," was the fond reply. Then Greg took him by the hand and they rushed away to the truck. How Sara got back to her car neither of them ever found out, but for the rest of her life Sara received a small present in the mail on that exact date, the day that she saved their love. The day she saved their lives.