ღWithout You ღ
By Lolly4Holly
Rated: T – M later on (NC-17)
Pairing: NICK/GREG Nick Stokes and Greg Sanders pre-slash Don't like? Don't READ!
Summary: Nick and Greg pre-slash. This is set post Fannysmackin' episode from season seven. Nick and Greg discover that they have feelings for one another after Greg tells Nick that he's leaving Las Vegas for good. Greg goes over the deep end with his guilt over Demetrius James, feeling pretty useless as though his life isn't worth living. Can Nick convince him to stay, or is it too late to reveal his true feelings for him?
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or any of its characters. I do however own Jean Sanders! She's totally mine since she's modelled after my own mother :D
Warnings: Spoilers for seasons seven and onwards. M/M slash relationship. Out of character personalities as I don't think they were real enough on the show and lots of outrageous Jean moments.
Authors Note: This story isn't finished yet, but when it is I'm going to re-edit the chapters again as a few of them have some inconsistencies as I have changed the story so much while writing it. I'm sorry if it doesn't make sense to you, but you have been warned. When I get a few spare days I'll try and re-edit the chapters that have this problem.
First published January 31st 2010, been uploading and changing chapters ever since.
Chapter One: The Discovery
Thrashing at the masked attackers around him with all the strength he could muster up, Greg whimpered as their heavy fists pounded back at him in return, striking his vulnerable body in already bruised places. The rain poured down around them, making visibility poor. Greg caught the occasional glance of their disfigured faces and bright blue demonic eyes, but as another strike hit him square in the eye, he could feel his eyes swelling up already.
He tried to call out for help, but his throat tightened even more, making it impossible to breath.
"Pl-eee-asss-e!" He whimpered, struggling to crawl away as he received another blow to his ribs. Soon the pain became too unbearable. Collapsing to the pavement beneath him, Greg gave up trying to fight it and just took the pain, hoping that he would pass out so he couldn't feel it anymore.
Slowly blinking his heavy eyelids open, Greg looked around the room he was in, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight that was pouring in from the window across the room. He sighed slightly relieved as he realised he was in his bedroom and not a dark alley surrounded by people in masks trying to end his life. His vision blurred over as he tried to make out the time on the clock beside his bed. All he could see was a bright green blur, but he couldn't make out any numbers.
Quickly sitting up, his hands rushed to feel his chest as he recalled his dream of his bones being crushed into his body from the thousands of attackers that stood around him, pounding their fists and feet into his fragile frame. He could still feel the bruises of the previous incident under his skin, but no new injuries as far as he could tell.
It was all just a dream.
Greg's hands slowly moved up to his face, feeling the scar on his chin, the slightly swollen cheek bones and the tender skin beneath his eyes; a constant reminder of the beating he received. It hadn't been that long since the beating, but every night he awoke shaking in terror as though he was right back there in that alley, suffering through the pain he was forced to endure, over and over again, months after the event.
Quickly scrambling off the bed, Greg made his way off towards the bathroom just off his room, adjusting the shorts he was wearing as he padded across the cold tiled floor of the bathroom barefooted.
Splashing his face with some cold water, Greg looked up into the mirror above the sink, jumping at the sight of his own reflection. He was much paler than usual, and didn't resemble the old Greg he used to know, especially with the large dark patches circling each of his eyes. They made him look more like an undead zombie rather than the Greg he used to know, which was exactly how he had been feeling lately.
Running a hand across the dark stubble on his chin, Greg thought it was about time that he shaved his chin to at least get some of his young appearance back, but he really couldn't be bothered right now. He couldn't be bothered to do anything right now. The facial hair did make him look slightly older, maybe a little more respectable in the work place, but the floppy mop of hair just made him look a bit rough around the edges.
He really had let himself go, but he couldn't be bothered to do anything about it right now. He was tired, hungry and desperately craving another drink. Not to mention the fact that he had to make up another excuse so that he could get another sick day.
Carrying his freshly stocked kit in his hands, Nick made his way off through the lab halls towards his supervisor's office after he had finished helping Bobby D, the ballistics lab tech run bullets comparisons from his last crime scene through IBIS to see if they could get any matches. Nick managed to find a hit, then arrest their suspect who gave them a full confession to the murder.
Now he was on his way to Grissom's office for his next assignment, hoping he wouldn't be assigned to lab duty again as he wasn't the office type.
As he reached Grissom's office, Nick took a moment to look at his tired supervisor who was gazing off into space at one of his butterfly collection displays before he gently knocked on the door so he wouldn't startle him from his thoughts.
Absently looking up towards the door, Grissom gave him a slight smile then ushered him inside with a subtle hand gesture. Grissom glanced at the clock then looked towards Nick as he walked inside. "You finished your case already Nicky, you've still got half a shift left."
"I know, it was a quick one." He nodded. "We found the guy based on the gun he used. He used it before to rob a gas station. When we brought him in, he gave us a full confession."
"Good work, Nicky," Grissom smiled towards his CSI that was constantly seeking his approval before he reached out for his bleeping cell phone off the edge of his desk. Glancing at the screen of his phone, Grissom blinked before he looked up at Nick. "You're in luck, 419 for you." Grissom wrote down the details then handed it over to him. "If Greg decides to show up, you can take him with you."
"He still not in yet?" Nick turned his wrist to check his watch. "He's usually early."
"He hasn't been in for the last three days Nick." He reminded him as he started shuffling through the paper work on his desk. "Keep me posted on your case, Nicky."
"Sure." Whirling around, Nick head off towards the locker room, pulling his cell phone from his pocket as he approached the door. After three rings, the call finally went through to Greg's voicemail. "This is Greg Sanders; leave a message after the tone."
Clearing his throat, Nick took a deep breath before he spoke. "Hey G, it's me. Just wonderin' if yah comin' in today, bud" Glancing up, Nick noticed Warrick leant against the locker room door frame. "Call me, Greg." Snapping his phone shut in his hands, Nick stuffed it back into his jeans pocket as he smiled up at his friend. "Hey 'rick, wassup?"
"Hey," Warrick made his way over to his locker, spinning the lock into the correct combination so he could grab his jacket from inside. "Still no word on Greggo?"
"Nah," Shaking his head, Nick pulled his CSI vest on then grabbed his kit off the floor. "He's still playin' the sick card. I'm gettin' worried about him man."
"He'll come in when he's ready." Warrick assured him as he searched his pockets for his cell. "He's tough."
"I don't think so man." Nick checked his flashlight was still working, slotting it back into the relevant pocket of his vest before he closed up his locker, spinning his car keys around on his finger as he made his way off towards the locker room door. "I think there's somethin' wrong with him, more than the beatin'. He doesn't seem himself lately."
"Well you weren't the same for a while after you got out," Warrick pulled his jacket on over his shoulders, spinning the wedding ring around on his finger. "The problem is you two are both alone. You don't have girlfriends or any family in the city or any real friends outside of work. It's not good to be alone Nick." He pointed out to him.
"Not the marriage talk again." Nick groaned, rolling his eyes angrily. "I get enough of that from my own mother. I'll get married in my own sweet time, mom." He smirked towards his friend then made his way out of the locker room, heading off towards the elevators.
"I'm just saying man." Warrick shouted after him. Warrick snatched his kit up from the locker room floor then hurried after Nick towards the elevator. He quickly slipped inside with him to ride it down just before the doors closed, giving him the continued best friend advice, "You and Greg haven't got anybody to talk to Nicky. You might wonna consider therapy." He suggested.
"I was talkin' about Greg, there's nothin' wrong with me. I don't need therapy!" Nick protested, stuffing his hands on his hips. Warrick just absently nodded, watching the numbers of the elevator counting down. "You think there's somethin' wrong with me? I'm not stuck in my apartment 24/7, callin' in sick every day. Have you even seen Greg lately? He looks awful."
Just as Nick spoke the elevator doors opened to the bottom floor, revealing Greg stood in front of them in a very large navy blue sweatshirt, baggy shredded jeans and a dark baseball cap over his head, covering his eyes from their view. He looked like a child dressed in his father's clothes as they were far too big for him and didn't go at all with the usual Greg style.
Nick cleared his throat, going to speak first, "Greg, you're here?" He looked at him surprised as he looked even worse than the last time he saw him.
"I'll catch you guys later, I gotta run." Warrick awkwardly smiled at the two of them then made his way off towards his Denali in the distance. "See yah Greggo."
"Bye." The younger man weakly responded.
Nick stepped out of the elevator next, looking at Greg's pale complexion in more detail. With the dark stubble covering his chin, Greg looked even less like himself now, making Nick even more worried that he was losing the real Greg. "Hey, you okay Greg?"
"I'm fine, we gotta case?" Greg reached for the slip in Nick's hands, taking a look for himself. "Grissom called said I'm with you today. We riding in your car?" He naturally assumed.
"Sure." Nick directed Greg off towards his truck, unlocking the doors so they could climb inside. Greg loaded his kit onto the back seat then slumped back into the passenger seat, running a hand across the itchy stubble on his chin.
Nick grabbed his sunglasses from the visor before he drove off, turning the radio down low as he turned his head slightly to look at Greg out of the corner of his eye. He hated the deafening silence, especially with Greg; usually he couldn't get him to shut up. This was just... too quiet.
"So what made you change your mind about comin' in?" He decided to break the silence first.
"Couldn't think up an excuse . . . and I was bored." Greg sighed heavily, giving Nick a slight smile.
Nick sniffed the distinct scent in his car, looking around at Greg curiously. "Greg, have you been drinkin'?"
Absently shaking his head, Greg stared out of his window, scratching the moustache starting to come through on his upper lip. It wasn't as thick as Nick's once was. It looked more like a Brad Pitt's one from the fight club.
"Greg, you can't be workin' if you've been drinkin'." Nick pointed out to him as he could clearly smell the scent of alcohol in his car. "You could get fired, G."
"I haven't." The younger man protested.
"Then why do you smell like..."
"Get off my back Nick!" He suddenly snapped, scowling angrily round at him. "I don't need a babysitter!"
"I never said you did G." Nick pulled up to their crime scene then reached for his kit off the back seat before he climbed out. Greg scratched at his hair beneath his cap then adjusted it to a comfier position on his head before he followed after Nick with his kit in hand.
Greg stayed by Nick's truck as he hoisted up his baggy jeans, attempting to tighten the belt around his hips before he stepped onto the crime scene as he had lost some weight since the last time he wore them.
"Hey Nick, bodies in apartment two C." The officer watching the door informed him as the CSI approached him.
Nodding to the officer, Nick pulled his flashlight from his vest then made his way off down the hall, directing the light towards the peeling walls around him as he made his way off towards apartment two C with the younger CSI right behind him.
Nick entered the apartment first, directing his flashlight around the darkened room to take a look at what they had here. The floor was covered in wood; the walls were a dark auburn colour and the rest of the decor screamed romance central. He ran his flashlight across the dining room table that covered in Chinese takeaway boxes and takeaway restaurant menus. Glancing around the rest of the room, he finally noticed the blood covered body on the floor of the front room.
"Here Greg, you can take notes." Nick set down his kit and pulled out a notebook then dug into his jeans for a pen.
"What?" Greg angrily hissed at him. He was a professional now; he didn't do the note taking for the other CSI's anymore. "I haven't had to take notes since..."
"Well you're drunk, I don't want you to get fired, so you're gonna take my notes." Nick handed over his notebook to the grumpy CSI then handed him the pen. "Don't argue, I'm doin' it for your sake. You don't wonna waste your career away by comin' in drunk to work, G."
"I'm not drunk." Greg muttered under his breath. He started jotting down his observations of the crime scene, shivering as a crack of thunder suddenly rumbled in the background.
"Greg?" Nick glanced up at him, seeing the younger man was trembling slightly. "It's just thunder G."
"I know that Nick, I'm not stupid!" He remarked then looked back down at the notebook, jotting down his notes as he head further into the room. Greg walked towards a large window at the far end of the room, looking outside as another rumble of thunder erupted from the sky, followed by heavy rainfall. Greg shivered again, trying to focus on his work. "Hey Nick," Greg whirled around to face him, sucking in a deep breath before he spoke. "I think I should tell you... that I'm... well... I'm planning on quitting, anyway."
"What? Why?" Nick climbed to his feet, directing his flashlight towards Greg as though he was a suspect.
"Because . . . I don't think I can do this job anymore." Greg clutched the notebook close to his chest, deciding to confess what was really going on with him to his best friend. "I can't sleep Nick, I can't do this job worrying I'm gonna get attacked again. I just can't do it anymore."
"Have you at least thought about this?"
"I have, and this is the decision I've come to... I just... I can't do it. And you can't change my mind either Nick, I'm not staying." Greg pulled the notebook away from his chest, continuing to document the scene as if nothing had happened.
Nick stood staring at him a moment before he continued with what he was doing, trying to think of something he could say or do to change Greg's mind. "I'm takin' yah home after this G," He decided. "You can sleep it off at home so you don't get fired."
Greg replied with an angry eye roll. "I don't care about my job Nick, I just told you..."
"Well I do!" He snapped at him. "You worked hard to get where you are. I'm not gonna let you throw it all away. Otherwise those punks that did this to you are winnin'." Nick argued, trying to get Greg to listen to him. "You can't let them win G. You're stronger than that."
Greg sighed heavily as he listened to the Texan's words that were starting to make a lot of sense to him, but he didn't want to listen. Clutching the pen tightly in his hands, Greg tried to hold back his emotion as he looked up at Nick. "Can we just get on with the scene please?"
"I'm not lettin' you quit."
"You're not the boss of me." The pen in Greg's hands finally snapped from his frustration, causing Nick to look up at him surprised. "Does our victim have an ID?" He asked, getting back to work on the scene. This is why Grissom told them not to get too personally involved with their co-workers, so this sort of thing didn't happen on crime scenes.
Nick gave him a slight smile, finding a drivers licence on the counter. "Timothy Crawford. Forty nine years old. He lives here."
"That's a good sign." Greg readjusted the hood on his sweatshirt then scratched at his greasy scalp before he started to look around the rest of the apartment. "Hey Nicky . . . does the vic have a gunshot wound?" He curiously asked him.
Nick turned back towards the body, looking at his wounds. "Um... yeah. It looks like two gunshot wounds to the chest." He reported then raised his eyebrows as he looked round at him. "Why?"
"There's your murder weapon." Greg pointed it out with an extended arm.
Nick made his way over to the bed, looking at the gun sat in the middle of the unmade bed. He photographed its position then lifted it up to check how many bullets were inside.
"One missing," Greg noted, jotting it down on his notebook. He pulled an evidence bag from his kit, holding it open for Nick to drop the gun inside. "Did you also happen to notice the used condom in the waste basket?" Greg indicated towards the trash can beside the bed. "Oh, and the lube on the night stand."
Nick turned his head towards the waste basket, looking at the evidence he missed. "Good eye."
Greg gave the older CSI a smile as he watched him heading over towards it, snapping a picture before he picked it up with his tweezers. Stuffing the used condom into a bindle of its own, he turned back to look towards the body just as David came in.
"Hey Super Dave." The Texan waved, collecting up the lube.
"Sorry I'm late, Sara had a triple homicide." He set his kit down beside the body, starting to take the liver temperature of their deceased victim. "Looks like he died about... nine hours ago." Greg jotted that down on his notes, scratching at the stubble on his chin once again. "Oh hey Greg, it's good to see you out in the field again." David smiled up at him, widening his eyes as he saw his pale complexion and the dark stubble covering his jaw.
Greg faintly nodded to him then turned his back on him to look at the rain starting to slow out the window. He stared up at the empty sky above him while Nick continued to document the rest of the scene so he could get Greg back home before anyone else noticed he had been drinking on the job.
Once they were done with their scene, both CSI's loaded their evidence into the back of Nick's truck then head in the direction of the lab to get their evidence processed. Nick stopped halfway at an I-HOP, leaving Greg sat in the passenger seat of his car while he head in to get them something to eat. "Here." Returning to his truck, Nick handed some boxed up pancakes over to Greg, giving him a slight smile as he climbed back into the driver's seat.
"What's this?" The younger man asked curiously as he rubbed his sleepy eyes open.
"Well, what does it look like, G?" Nick smirked as he pulled his seatbelt back on. "It's food G, eat it. I'm drivin' you home." Greg went to moan but Nick shot him a glare before he could even open his mouth. "Eat it Greg, I'm takin' you home. I care too much to watch you doing this to yourself." Nick put his truck in reverse then backed it off out of its parking spot, heading back off towards Greg's apartment. Greg picked at the pancakes on the drive home, gazing out of his window every so often at the drying pavement as the sky was beginning to clear from all the rain they had earlier.
Nick pulled up in the parking lot of Greg's apartment a few minutes later then pulled his seatbelt off, ready to climb out the car. "C'mon then G."
"Nick, you don't need to come up with me." Greg stopped him before he climbed out. "I'll be fine. And you can't leave the evidence, do you wonna get in trouble again?"
"Five minutes. I wonna come up." Nick climbed out of the truck, waiting for Greg to get out so he could lock it up.
Greg reluctantly climbed out of Nick's truck, brushing down the crumbs off his sweatshirt as he pushed the door shut, being sure not to slam it too hard as Nick was very protective over his truck. He led the way off towards the elevator then leant against the back wall as he picked at the still warm pancakes in his hands. Nick stood beside him, stealing the occasional glance of the younger man as they rode the elevator up together.
Greg rushed to get to his front door first, pulling his keys from his pocket. "Stay here a sec." He warned Nick.
"G, I've seen your place before. I know how messy it is."
"Just stay here a sec." Greg groaned at him as he unlocked his front door. He pushed the door shut once he was inside, quickly clearing away the bottles and cans of beer off his sofa and coffee table. He knew Nick would probably find them anyway because he was always so interfering, but he didn't want him to see them all over the place and start worrying about him.
Greg set the pancakes down on the kitchen counter then rushed for the front door to pull it open so Nick wouldn't get too bored and start pounding on his front door, possibly even waking his neighbours.
"Come in." Greg ushered him inside.
Nick took a step inside, looking around at the mess that was barely cleared. He noticed a stray beer can under the coffee table, but didn't bother to point it out to Greg that he had missed it in his rush to clear everything up.
"Be right back." Greg stumbled over some of his sneakers left on the floor as he made his way off towards his bathroom. He popped some Valium into his mouth then splashed his face with some cold water while Nick was snooping around his front room, like he fully expected him to.
For some reason, Nick had been extra concerned with Greg's well being lately, constantly caring about him since he was beaten up. He didn't know why, he always seemed closer to Warrick then he was to him.
Greg dried his face with a towel then made his way back out to Nick. "Do you want a coffee or something? When you're done snooping around that is." He smirked.
"I wasn't snoopin'." Nick dropped onto the couch, feeling something hard in his back. He reached back through the cushions, finding a half empty tequila bottle buried between the sofa cushions. "Greg, seriously..."
"That's been there for ages." Greg lied as he grabbed it from his hands, ignoring the accusing look as he carried it off towards the kitchen, placing it on the counter.
"Sure, I'll have a cup of coffee, G." He shouted after him.
"Okay." Greg brewed some of his famous Hawaiian coffee then poured it out into two separate mugs. He handed Nick one of the warm mugs then slumped back on the sofa a few inches away from him, putting his feet up on the table.
"You gonna finish those pancakes?" Nick scrambled to his feet without an answer, grabbing some clean plates from the kitchen along with a fork each from the draw. Nick was the only one who knew his way around Greg's kitchen; he wasn't even sure Greg actually knew his way around his own kitchen. He dished out the pancakes Greg hadn't picked at then made his way back to the sofa to sit beside Greg again.
Greg gave him a slight smile as he took the plate from his hands. "Nick . . . I'm still leaving the lab. You gotta know that." Greg informed him as he picked at the pancakes with his fork.
Choking on his pancakes, Nick struggled to breathe as he looked round at Greg. "What about your job?"
"I don't care about it anymore. Actually, I think . . . I'm gonna move back to California."
"What?" Nick felt like he had been slapped in the face.
"It's not your choice, it's mine." Greg complained as he climbed to his feet then made his way over to the fridge to grab himself a beer. Kneeling down in front of the fridge, Greg grabbed the cold beer off the bottom shelf in exchange for his coffee then made his way back towards the sofa with Nick.
"Greg, you can't let these guys scare you out of your job."
"They didn't. I don't want it anymore." Greg slumped back down onto the sofa, taking large gulps of the cold beer in his hands. "Hey!" He protested as Nick grabbed the bottle from him, holding it out of his reach as he went to grab for it again.
"Greg, why are you actin' like this?"
"Like what Nick?" Lunging for his beer, 'The Warden' pushed him back against the couch cushions, holding it even further out of his reach. "God what's your problem Nicky, why do you always have to be so controlling?"
"If you skulk around like this you're only lettin' those friggin' punks win. They succeeded in makin' you their victim now you're lettin them ruin your life..."
"What do you care Nick?" Greg shouted pushing Nick back as he climbed to his feet to grab another beer from the fridge. Nick put his plate down on the coffee table, following Greg off towards the kitchen, pushing the fridge door shut before Greg could reach inside for another beer.
"I care Greg. I don't want you wastin' your life away coz of some punks."
"Well one of em's dead. Did you forget that Warden? I killed him. He's dead because I killed him. Do you even care about that Nicky?" Tears started to roll down Greg's cheeks the more he thought about it. "I killed someone Nick. You're very quick to forget that. Not to mention the fact that the freaking state paid the scumbags family..."
"Yes I know, G. That doesn't mean your life has to end..."
"Why not?" Greg's voice came out as a shaky whisper as his hands started to shake so badly he thought they would fall right off his wrists. "I killed some kid Nick... you want me to just freaking forget it ever happened like the rest of you can? I can't just brush it under the carpet and forget about it. I can't act as if nothing ever happened like you."
"I didn't forget." Nick protested.
"If that were anyone else they'd be rotting in jail right now." The younger man muttered under his breath as he leant back against the sofa cushions behind him again. "I'm a murderer."
"You didn't do anythin' wrong, Greg."
"Yes I did! I killed him! He's dead because of me!" Nick's heart broke for him as he watched a tear rolling down Greg's cheek, dripping off his chin onto his sweatshirt. "Tell me the truth Nick. If that were anyone else, you'd hate them. You'd be glad to lock them away in a cell and throw away the key."
"No I wouldn't, considerin' the circumstances G; you didn't do anythin' wrong."
"Yes I did!" Greg persisted, pushing Nick out of the way as he stormed off towards his bedroom. Nick had no idea how much Greg was hurting over this. He placed the beer in his hands on the side, deciding not to give up just yet. Greg was far too important to him to just let him give up now.
"Greg, you're not a murderer." Making his way towards the bed, Nick took a seat on the edge as Greg rolled under the covers, pulling a pillow down over his head. "Greg, frankly I'd be worried if you weren't feelin' guilty. You're a good man Greg, you have a good heart. A pure heart. You saved Stanley Tanner. That punk kid killed that other man who had kids of his own, he beat up that young girl, almost killed Stanley Tanner and he coulda killed you... along with countless others. Honestly, I think you did the world a favour G."
"Please, just go away." Greg's voice muffled against the pillow.
"Greg, you didn't do anythin' wrong." Nick wanted to do something more to comfort his best friend. He couldn't stand to see him hurting like this. "You're a good man, that's why this is eatin' away at you so much. Greg c'mon, I'm not goin' away until you talk to me. I can't leave you like this."
"I don't need your help Nick." Sniffing his tears back against the pillow, he turned his body even further away from Nick, waiting for him to leave. He hated feeling vulnerable, especially in front of the man who survived being buried alive and eaten by ants. He felt so weak and helpless which is exactly how those kids had made him feel when they beat the life out of his weak and helpless body.
"Greg you didn't do anythin' wrong. You're a good guy..."
"Good guys don't kill people, Nick!" Pulling the pillow away from his eyes, Greg revealed his tear stroked cheeks and puffy eyes. "A kid is dead coz of me Nick, the way his mother and half the freaking courtroom looked at me; they had already signed the freaking death sentence! I shouldn't be here. I got away with murder."
"Greg you saved Stanley Tanner and countless others with the work you've done. Think of all the bad guys you've put behind bars." Trying desperately to hold back his own tears, Nick clenched his fists at his sides to keep from reaching out for Greg. He desperately wanted to give him a hug and never let him go, but he couldn't do that right now as the last thing Greg needed was sympathy. "You didn't get away with anythin'; you're beatin' yourself up over this enough, Greg. The good you've done outweighs the bad by far."
"I'll always be the CSI with a murder on his record." Greg spoke in a soft voice. "How can we stop people from murdering when we're doing it ourselves?"
"Because you did it to save someone. Lots of cops have at least one death on their record. We protect people, sometimes we have to do bad in order to save people. Greg, you're not a bad guy. You're a great guy. I've worked this job longer then you G, I know a bad guy when I see one."
Greg wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands, clutching the pillow against him tightly. "Do they wear a black cloak and have a curly moustache?" He joked without smiling, making Nick laugh.
"No smart ass." Nick chuckled happy to finally hear Greg's humour was still intact. "You're not a bad guy Greg." He whispered softly. "Sometimes people get hurt or killed in the line of duty . . . that guys better off dead though G. Trust me! You had to do what you did to save Stanley Tanner, he's home now with his family thanks to you..."
"But..."
"In your shoes, I woulda done the exact same thing Greg." Nick interrupted him before he could argue again. "If I was in that position..."
"If you were in that position, you wouldn't have gotten beaten up. You're a tough guy, I'm just a whimp." Greg cut him off again.
"Greg, you're not a whimp. I'm not as tough as you think. I should be embarrassed. I was knocked out, bound and gagged by a sixty year old man." Nick reminded him.
"That's not your fault. He had ether."
"It's not your fault either Greg. They had the advantage. There was more of them. I woulda gone down just the same if I was in your position." He pointed out to him as he continued to try and comfort him. "As would Sara, Catherine... even Warrick. It's not your fault."
"But they still paid the family of a murderer." Greg added wiping the tears from his face again.
"That's the stupid law Greg. Just like when I was abducted, they wouldn't pay the ransom or when we were workin' that actor's case. They thought he was innocent of murderin' those girls just because he was friggin' famous, or even the mob weddin', remember that when my car was stolen and we were all punished because of it. That's just the way the fucked up system works." Greg's tears finally stopped flowing as he listened to Nick's words of wisdom. "You're not the bad guy in this Greg; you're just another innocent bystander that got screwed by the system."
Greg gave his eyes another wipe, rolling onto his side as he clutched the pillow in his arms even tighter. "Well . . . you know Nicky, that actually makes a lot of sense." He spoke softly.
Nick burst into a wide grin. "Well yeah smart ass." He smirked. "See, I do know what I'm talkin' about."
Sniffing back the last of his tears, Greg ran a hand through his floppy mop of hair, finally knocking the baseball cap off that looked completely wrong on his head. He lay in silence for a few minutes longer, watching Nick's eyes running over him. He felt lucky to have such a great friend like Nick, even if he was controlling and always interfering, he was the only person who really cared or even bothered to check in on him since he got out of hospital.
Greg inhaled a deep breath then turned slightly to look Nick in the eye. "Do you totally hate me now?"
Nick shook his head with confusion. "No, why would I hate you Greg?"
"Because I'm an idiot," Greg confessed, watching a smile spreading across Nick's lips. "Not literally though."
"I know you're not an idiot Greg." Nick smiled wider. "You are the smartest person I know. Don't let it go to your head though." Greg giggled softly, clutching the pillow tightly against his body. "So, you're not still leavin' are yah?"
Greg gave him a shrug as he wiped his eyes. "I don't want it anymore, Nick."
"C'mon Greg, you're not just gonna piss away your life's work because of this are you? We all have our moments of weakness, but we have to get up and get back on the horse." The older man complained. "What the hell is wrong with you, Greg? You just wonna throw your life away over all of this?"
"I really don't need a pep talk Nick, especially not you just shouting at me."
"I'm not... I'm not shoutin'. And yes you do need a pep talk Greg, it's been three months. Grissom's startin' to worry and Ecklie wants to fire you."
"Let him."
"You don't mean that G. You've got somethin' good here. And I..." Pausing, Nick looked into Greg's eyes a moment, stopping himself before he said what he really wanted to say. He took in a few choppy breaths, changing his mind about what he was going to say. "And I'd really hate to lose you. I know everyone else would too, you're a part of our team G."
Greg rolled his eyes up at him. "Before I was just the dork in the lab..."
"You're a part of our team Greg, a vital part." He assured him.
"I'm not you Nick; I can't just climb out of a coffin and get back to normal like you did. If I was in that coffin, I would have blown my head off within the first five minutes. I'm not strong like you."
"You are G . . . you came right back to work after the lab explosion, you can again you just have to try. You can't give up."
Greg sighed heavily, looking up into Nick's eyes. "You're not gonna give up are you?"
Shaking his head, Nick gave Greg a slight smile. "No G, I don't give up so easy. And you shouldn't either."
"Why do you even care Nick? You used to call me a CSI wannabe." Greg reminded him.
"You're good at your job G... and I," Nick looked into Greg's eyes wanting to finally say those three little words.
"And you what?" Greg asked waiting with anticipation.
"I-I...I'd hate to lose such a good member of our team." Nick finished, ashamed at himself for being such a coward.
"I'll think about it." Greg whispered under his breath.
"I know you can't go into work today, but you could at least take a shower." Nick smirked getting shoved in the side by Greg. "You are startin' to get a little ripe there Greggo." He playfully fanned his hand in front of his nose.
"How is picking on me going to help your case, Stokes?"
"C'mon Greg, I'm just playin'." Chuckling softly, Nick smiled as he looked down into Greg's soft caramel chocolate eyes. "C'mon G . . . I've smelled worse." He teased. Nick laughed louder as Greg gave him the stink eye. "You might wonna consider shavin' too G. You're startin' to look like a hobo." He continued to tease him.
"Am not!" Greg couldn't help but laugh, playfully shoving Nick off his bed. "Okay you can leave now Mr Stokes."
"I'll be back later after shift." Nick checked his watch. "Hands off the beer too. I'll need you sober."
"Yes mother." Greg sarcastically rolled his eyes at him. "Seriously though, why do you even care Nick? Without me on the team you wouldn't have to babysit me on cases you wonna do by yourself."
Nick just stood in Greg's bedroom by the door a moment, looking down into Greg's eyes. He inhaled a deep breath as he brushed his fingers back through his hair, trying to think of the right words to say to him. But he changed his mind last minute, taking a step back towards the open door. "I'll be back later G." He waved as he walked off.
Greg watched him go then heard the front door click shut. He lay back against the pillow soaked with his tears, thinking about what Nick had told him. He didn't want to leave Las Vegas, he felt at home here. He just wanted a fresh start, where he wouldn't be hated by half the population for killing a black kid in the line of duty.
Greg reached out for the warm spot where Nick was sat, wishing he could have stayed but he had to get back to work. He had never had a friend like Nick before. No matter how hard he pushed, he was always there to help him out.
Nick drove straight back to the crime lab after dropping Greg off at home, desperately trying to think of a way to express his true feelings to the younger man as he distributed his evidence off to each of the different labs. "Hey Nicky, how's Greg?" Grissom caught up to Nick in the lab halls on the way towards his office.
"Um... well actually . . . he's not so good. I sent him home, he wasn't feeling so good." Nick turned to face Grissom, looking at the expression on his face. He didn't think he should reveal to his supervisor about how much Greg was drinking. Nick knew that Grissom probably wouldn't help him anyway; he was too busy with his own issues to care about what was going on in Greg's mind. "I'm goin' to see him again after shift actually."
"Okay, don't force him to come back though." Grissom cautioned him before he walked off towards his office, closing the door behind him.
Nick sighed heavily in annoyance then whirled around to head back towards the locker room. "Hey man," Warrick caught up to Nick at the door, closing the case file he had in his hands. "I heard you sent Greg home."
"Word really does travel fast around here, huh?" Nick smirked, looking round at him.
"Well I just finished up my B&E case; the manager did it for some insurance thing. So if you need me..."
"Yeah actually, I just got a warrant for his girlfriend's house. They had sex a few minutes before he died and the guns registered to her."
"Cool. So, how is Greg?" He asked curiously, following Nick into the locker room.
"Not so good." Nick grabbed his jacket from his locker, lifting his kit up from the bench. "I'm drivin'." Nick quickly said as he saw Warrick fishing out his keys from his pocket.
"Fine." Warrick grunted, shoving them back into his pocket. "I kinda miss working with Sanders, he always lets me drive."
"Me too." Nick agreed, but he missed him for many other reasons too.
"Oh Gregory, it would be so lovely to have you home. Of course you can, you're more than welcome." His mother Jean Sanders replied happily over the phone. "Your fathers actually there on business today. He was going to stop by; perhaps you can come back with him?" She suggested as she listened to the tone of her sons voice.
"That would be great." Twirling the phone cord around his fingers, Greg stared up at the blank ceiling above him, wishing he could be a man and stay here in Las Vegas, but he was too scared to. He needed a fresh start. "Any idea when he'll be over here?"
"No, I could give him a call if you want. Why's that sweetheart?"
"I just really need to get away from this place." Greg sighed heavily, thinking that Nick would be over in a couple of hours, but he didn't really want to talk to him again. He liked his company, just hated the constant pep talks he was giving him lately as it made it so much harder for him to bottle everything up.
"I'll ring him right now then; I'll call you back on what time he'll be there. Pack a bag just clothes and things, we could always send for the rest of your stuff if you decide to stay here."
"Thanks mom." Greg sighed softly. "I love you."
"Oh I love you too honey. It'll all work out, you'll see."
Greg waited for her to hang up first before he put the phone down on his end. He scrambled off the bed then quickly rushing off towards the bathroom to freshen up. He didn't want his own father to see him in a mess.
It wasn't because Nick pointed it out to me though. He assured himself as he picked up the razor. Why am I even thinking about Nick? He asked himself as he looked into the mirror in front of him.
He rolled his eyes at himself then started shaving off the beard, moustache and thick side boards before he jumped into the shower to clean himself up a bit as Nick was also right about the smell. He was more than a bit past his sell by date, and he really couldn't stand the sticky sweat on his body anymore. Why am I thinking about Nick again? He asked himself, beginning to get frustrated.
It wasn't just that thinking about Nick was bugging him; it was the way he was thinking about him. He was constantly on his mind; some thoughts not to be considered polite about his best friend either, especially about his very male, very straight best friend.
Greg closed his eyes as the hot water poured down over his vulnerable flesh. He licked his lips imagining what it would be like to kiss Nick. Heaven, he imagined. Pure tender heaven. His body warmed in both lust and desire, even warmer than the spray of the hot shower pouring down around him. He wanted to feel the older man's bare skin against his own. To feel his hard erection against his own. To taste those heavenly soft lips...
"No!" He suddenly screamed, snapping his eyes open.
He shook his head trying to think about something else, anything else other than Nick would be good right now. Bunnies, big fluffy hopping bunnies in a field of dandelions. Greg reclosed his eyes imagining this perfect paradise.
"No!" He screamed again as he saw Nick's face come into view. "Damn it, this isn't working!" He scolded himself. Glancing down at his lower half, he realised there really was something more to Nick that he liked, more than his friendship.
Never before had he thought of a friend in such a sinful way.
"Oh no, no I don't like Nick! I don't like Nick. I don't like Nick. I don't like Nick. I don't like Nick..." He repeated over and over again, closing his eyes to will his body to come down. "I don't even like guys . . . I like hot babes, breasts, long hair, smooth skin..." Greg closed his eyes thinking about the woman of his dreams. He ran his eyes across her perfect toes, up her silky smooth legs and thighs, towards her navel...
"No!" Greg screamed again, opening his eyes in horror as he pictured a man's chest. But not just any man, it was Nick Stokes again. "This really isn't working." Looking down in front of him at the shower knobs, he reached for the cold knob, getting ready to turn it on full blast. "This is so gonna hurt." He warned himself, flinching as the icy cold water pelted down over his vulnerable flesh.
He let out a shrill scream before he shut it off completely, stumbling back out of the shower to grab a nice warm towel.
"Oh no, no, no... I don't like Nick. He's my best friend." Stumbling over to the sink, he looked at his freshly shaven face and clean hair. He was starting to look like the old Greg again, minus the fading bruises on his face. He tightened the towel around his waist, leaning on the sink as he stared deep into his own eyes. "Oh my god, I like Nick." Glancing down at his waist, he felt very painfully tight. "No!" He slapped himself in the head. "I can't like Nick! Why? Why me! Why him?" He screamed angrily at himself, making his way off towards the bedroom to collapse against the bed. "No, I can't like Nick." He sobbed into his cushion. "I can't like him."
Greg reached for the photo on his bedside table of the night shift crew, taken the day of his promotion. He cast his eyes towards Nick stood beside him in the photo, running his eyes across his strong, athletic, well toned, muscular, sexy...
"Oh god!" He whimpered, dropping his head into his hands. Greg rolled onto his back, clutching the photo frame against his chest as he stared up at the ceiling. "Well he is . . . attractive." He told himself, raising the picture again to take another look. "Who am I kidding? He's gorgeous!" Greg searched the vacant look in Nick's eyes, desperately wanting to wrap his arms around him and hug him tightly. He never realised before, how empty Nick's eyes looked.
It looked as though he was the loneliest man in the world.
"So you and Greg . . . you're not?" Warrick asked cautiously as they drove along in silence in Nick's truck.
"Not what?" Trying to concentrate on the road ahead of him, Nick turned his head slightly to look at Warrick. "C'mon, not what?"
"You know . . . you're not together... or you know, thinking about being..."
"What?" Nick asked shocked at the accusation. "No! Whatever gave you that idea?"
"Sorry man. I just thought after that incident when Greg was beaten up. You totally lost it punching that guy, so I thought there was something going on between you guys."
I wish. Nick thought to himself, turning his head to look at Warrick sat in his passenger's seat. "No, nothin' like that, I swear. I'm not into Greg like that man; he's just... like a brother to me. I'd do the same for you or Sara even Cath."
"Okay, sorry man, I didn't mean to offend you. Just so you know . . . I guess I would be totally okay . . . you know if you were . . . you know if you did swing that way."
"I don't." Nick nervously cleared his throat, pointing his eyes back towards the road.
"You sure?"
"Yes!" Nick snapped. "I'm not into Greg... like that." He protested, even though it was true.
"Okay I'm sorry. Let's just forget it okay?" Warrick asked calling a truce. Nick nodded to him then turned his head back to the road in front of him, knowing that he should have told Warrick then and there, but he didn't even know if Greg liked him yet.
Truth is . . . he saw him a lot more than a brother, much more.
"Hi dad," Greg greeted his father as he pulled his front door open with a forced smile. He let his father in through the door before he threw his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
"Hey, it's okay Greg." Daniel Sanders softly soothed him, hugging his boy close to his chest. "Your mom said you sounded awful on the phone." He spoke softly, feeling his son's body trembling in his arms.
"Awful doesn't even cover it." Greg sobbed into his father's shoulder, suddenly feeling really guilty for skipping town without saying goodbye to anyone, especially Nick.
Daniel softly soothed his boy as he looked around at the state his son's apartment was in. He hadn't visited much in the past year, but it all looked very different. It looked as though a tornado had hit it, throwing beer bottles and clothes all over the room, along with a few Chinese food cartons and stale pizza boxes.
Greg always did have a messy room growing up, but his wife Jean would never let things get this chaotic. The stench of stale fast food was still fresh in the air, but Greg felt terribly thin in his arms, almost as though he hadn't eaten in weeks.
His wife would be horrified if she stepped foot in this place, so he was glad it was him to see how bad his son had got before her as she always was a worrier.
"Are you all set to go then?" Daniel looked around the apartment, spotting Greg's bags packed by his bedroom door. Greg nodded slowly then reluctantly pulled out of his father's arms. He dried the tears from his eyes on the sleeve of his sweatshirt then returned to his bedroom to grab some shoes. Dropping down onto the edge of his bed, Greg pulled his sneakers on, just as there was a knock at the front door.
Daniel looked at his son then round at the door behind him. "Do yah want me to get that Greg?"
Greg faintly nodded to him as he tied his shoe laces. He then quickly scrambled off the bed, remembering he had forgotten to pack his toothbrush. One of the most important things, even though he suspected his mother would have plenty of spares around the house, she was always so well prepared, but he really wanted his own.
Daniel turned around and made his way off towards the front door. Pulling it open, he saw a rather handsome jock stood in the doorway. "Yes?" He asked the man stood in his son's doorway.
Nick looked at the man who opened Greg's apartment door, seeing he was clearly Greg's father as there was a distinct similarity between them, only Greg's father had normal hair and he looked slightly older, obviously because he was.
"Howdy, I-I'm Nick Stokes, friend of Greg's." He introduced himself.
"Oh, hi Nick. I'm Daniel Sanders, Greg's father." He reached his hand out to shake the other man's hand. "Greg's told me a lot about you Nick."
"Really?" Nick nervously scratched his head, looking around the man to find Greg. "Um... Greg, is he... is he here?" He asked, wondering why Greg's father was here and Greg's bags were packed.
"Yeah, he is. Greg!" Daniel turned around to watch his son emerging from his bedroom door. He looked at Greg's shocked expression then turned back to look at Nick. They both seemed as shocked as the other to see each other. "How about I get this stuff down to the car?" He offered, lifting Greg's bags off the floor.
"Thanks... dad."
Nick gave Greg's father a slight smile then stepped aside so he could carry the bags out of Greg's apartment and off to his car outside. Nick looked towards Greg once he was gone, giving him an accusing glare, "You're leavin'?" He asked, sounding hurt.
"Not for good," Greg pulled a clean hooded sweatshirt down over his head, not wanting to face his mother in a dirty one. He took a few steps closer towards Nick as he flattened his hair down. Looking at the hurt look in his eyes, he started to feel guilty for leaving him, right after he just discovered his feelings for him. Even though Nick didn't know how he felt, or what he was thinking about him, he felt like somehow he was betraying him.
"Actually Nicky, I don't really know yet... I just... I really need a break from all of this."
"What about work?"
"I'll call Grissom and tell him I'm taking a leave of absence." Greg sheepishly explained, shoving his hands deep into his sweatshirt pockets. He couldn't even bare to make eye contact with Nick after all the thoughts he had been having over the past few hours.
Which of course only made him feel even more guilty for just leaving town with no real explanation. Being face to face with the man who had just rocked his fantasy world felt really weird, especially as he was still his very straight Texan friend. He was having an even harder time trying to settle his body now, let alone trying to keep his eyes from wondering across the actual sized curves of Nick's muscles, whereas before everything was in two dimensional view. The three dimensional view of Nicky really was quite the hotty.
"You really didn't hear anythin' I said to you earlier did you G?"
"I did, but I still need a break." Greg grabbed his keys off the side, heading off towards the front door, but Nick stopped him, knowing this could be his very last chance to talk to him.
"Please Greg, don't go." He pleaded, holding Greg in place with his hands on his shoulders. Greg shivered under the touch of the older man, bringing back all the feelings he was having for him earlier in the shower. "C'mon Greg, please don't go."
"Don't make this harder Nicky, I just need a break from all this." Shrugging off Nick's hands from his shoulders, he made his way off towards the front door once again.
Nick clenched his teeth in frustration. He knew if he wanted Greg to stay, he was going to have to do a lot more than beg him to.
He grabbed Greg's wrist quickly before he disappeared off out the door and out of his life for good, pulling him back towards him. Greg looked at Nick stunned, but before he could protest or pull away, Nick closed the distance between them, closing his mouth over Greg's, kissing him passionately, like he had dreamt of doing in his fantasies for years.
Greg was completely flabbergasted. He stood perfectly still, allowing Nick to deepen his kiss. The warmth of Nick's tongue in his mouth sent shivers through his whole body, making his eyelids flutter with excitement.
It was more heavenly then he could have ever imagined.
Greg felt his whole body starting to warm once again with pure lust and excitement, just like it had in the shower, only this time it was more vivid as he could really feel Nick's warm tongue in his mouth, his moist soft lips against his own and the warmth of his masculine body, just inches from his own.
He was on cloud nine.
Slowly breaking the kiss, Nick watched Greg's eyelashes flapping like angels wings as he re-licked his lips, tasting the sweet nectar of Nick Stokes on his breath.
Nick took in a few choppy breaths for courage as he looked Greg right in the eye, making him melt before he began to speak in his raspy Texan voice, "See Greg, here's the thing... I'm... I kinda," Nick inhaled a heavy deep breath, feeling a little light headed. "I love you Greg." He finally blurted. "I-I always have actually, ever since the first moment I saw you. I can't just let you walk out of my life Greg. At least not without tellin' you."
Greg looked up at Nick shocked. Was he dreaming? Was Nick high or something? Did he drink too much beer again and this was some very vivid fantasy that felt so real and so heavenly? How could this possibly be happening? He didn't know what to do.
He knew his father would be waiting for him, so he made a break for the door again.
"Wait, please Greg," Nick pleaded him, holding both of Greg's arms, trying to keep him put. "I'm layin' my heart out on the line here G. You can't just go..."
"Why did you wait until now to say anything?" Greg whinged, hating the fact that he desperately wanted Nick's lips against his own once again. More than that, he wanted his hands on his body; he wanted his body pressed against his own. He only just realised his feelings for Nick less than three hours ago, he couldn't believe this was really happening; the day he realises that he has feelings for his best friend, just so happens to be the day that he himself expresses his undying love to him.
Things like this just don't happen. He thought to himself, looking up into Nick's eyes burning into him, causing his heart beat and breathing to quicken.
"Please Nicky, just go. I can't... I can't do this right now. I'm barely holding it together as is. And why did you have to do this to me now?" He complained.
"Because I was too afraid you'd reject me . . . from the looks of it my fears were correct."
"Nick, you're putting me in an impossible situation here." Greg dropped his head into his hands, running his fingers through his hair.
"Please at least just tell me you don't feel the same before you leave."
Tears started to form in Greg's eyes as he stared into Nick's eyes, he wanted to tell the truth, but he didn't understand what was going on with him. "Nicky . . . I don't." He said in a low whisper as a tear rolled down his face. "I'm sorry." He shook his head, feeling another tear pooling from his eye as he kept his eyes locked with Nick's. "I'm sorry, I have to go. My dad's waiting for me." Pulling himself out of Nick's arms, he looked back at the broken man, feeling extra guilty now. "Would you... lock up for me?" Greg dropped his keys into Nick's hand, taking a few steps back from the broken man in front of him.
Nick stood in silence, watching the love of his life running off down the hall, not knowing if he would ever get to see him again.
As soon as Greg got outside, the tears started flowing down his cheeks. He had never even thought of Nick in that way, now he was craving him desperately, wanting to kiss him again. Greg took slow deep breaths feeling as though he was about to have a panic attack or pass out.
"Greggy, you okay?" His father asked, walking over to him.
Greg looked up at his father, sniffing back his tears then shook his head as he wiped his eyes with the clean sleeves of his sweatshirt. "I can't stay here anymore dad." He sobbed into his hands. "I have... I have to go."
"It's okay. Come on." Daniel led his tearful son off towards the car, feeling his body trembling as he helped him into the passenger seat. Greg buckled his seatbelt up then looked out of the window beside him, turning his head towards apartment window, constantly thinking about the kiss. He licked his lips again savouring the taste.
Nick tasted like a forbidden fruit, a heavenly sweet sinful nectar. And just like ecstasy, he was instantly craving more...
(5,000 word difference from the Original chapter I posted)
First published 31st Jan 2010 = Re-edited version by Lolly4Holly on 8th Jan 2011
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