Mobbed
Hey all! Here we go again! This time I'm doing Spring of Hurt Greg. I'm doing a total of 50 prompts this time (more if it comes to it) so get them in! I already have a couple from other readers that I've gotten during the year, but after that, it's first come first serve. As always No slash. So, as much as we love him, lets hurt Greg.
Disclaimer: I don't own CSI :(
This is kind of an AU story (or a 'what if')
Prompt given by: Marymel
Greg looked around the newly opened mob museum in awe. This was the best night ever. He was so fascinated with all this stuff and he knew that his obsession was...strange, but he loved the old Las Vegas. Taking a deep breath and grinning, he went over to Catherine who was looking at her dad's exhibit.
"Congratulations," he smirked, coming up behind her.
"Hmm?" Catherine raised her brow.
"Oscar put your dad in the Spilotro exhibit."
Catherine smiled. "Forgot how handsome he was."
Russell came up next to Catherine and sighed. "'Goodfella's daughter turns CSI.' That's an amazing story."
The blonde shook her head. "No, Sam wasn't a goodfella."
Greg cut in; he knew so much about this stuff and he loved explaining it to people. "He was a playfella. When a goodfella wanted to party, Sam was the go-to guy. He provided the women, the supplies, the favors, the security. And those same goodfellas hired Sam to run their casinos. He was connected, but no killer."
Catherine chuckled, taking a sip of her champagne. "Nice spin Greg. Sam...well, all these guys...they were no angels, but family did come first, and they knew how to provide."
"No kidding," Greg butt in again. "Sam gave her a casino. I didn't even get the family wagon."
Catherine laughed as she looked up at Russell. "Are you here with your wife?"
"Uh yeah, yeah...my work wife. Ecklie's over there."
"Mm," Catherine raised her brow.
After Greg showed them the mob wives, they heard the machine guns go off and Greg felt a surge of excitement run through his body. They followed the crowd and waited until the ex-mayor of Vegas got up on stage and presented a speech.
"So with that, everybody raise your glass and we'll say, "Salud"!"
The machine guns went off as everybody raised the glass...and nobody expected to hear louder gunshots followed by the ex-mayor being shot to the ground. As everybody started screaming, Greg was about to duck down when he saw someone running out towards the back entrance...a gun in their hand. He shouted to Catherine before running off, but he had a feeling she didn't hear him over the commotion. Greg turned the corner and rushed dow the hallway, through the loading dock just in time to see the potential shooter head for a running van.
"Hey! Stop where you are LVPD!"
The man turned around as well as the person from inside the car...Joanna one of the mob wives. Greg froze when the gun was pointed at him.
"Shoot him!" Joanna yelled. "We need to get out of here!"
The CSI put his hands up in surrender. "No, wait! Don't"
But his pleads went unheeded and the gun went off. Greg dropped to the ground in pain, gasping. He was just shot! He heard footsteps come closer to him and he looked up to see the security guard hovering over him.
"Knock him out and throw him in the van!" Joanna shouted. "We can't have any witnesses."
The guard raised the gun and Greg raised a hand in a weak surrender. "P-Please...don't."
"Sorry kid." With that, he brought the butt of the gun down on Greg's head and knocked him into a daze. Greg went limp as the guard dragged Greg to the van and carelessly threw him in. Greg moaned, blinking his eyes, but all he could see was a giant blur. He heard doors slam and he flinched at the sound jarring his headache. His side was really starting to burn where the bullet had torn through his body. He felt his arms being pulled behind his back and his wrist being tied tightly together.
"D-Don't...do this," he whispered, having a really hard time staying conscious. He heard the car start and tear out of the lot. He had no idea where they were going, but he prayed that they didn't kill him.
"...brought...on yourself," the man's voice faded in and out. "Shouldn't...nosy."
Greg tried to look up at the man as immense pain surged throughout his body. Groaning, he succumbed to the darkness, fearing that he might never wake up again.
~+CSI+~
Catherine sighed as she and Russell looked around the nearly deserted museum. Things had gone to hell so quickly.
"Take these people into the lobby and get their statements," Ecklie said angrily before walking over to the CSI's. "The mayor is gonna be okay. They just rolled him into the ER."
"Hit in a mob museum?" Catherine raised a brow. Something...someone was missing. "It has to be a publicity stunt."
"Cath, if the former mayor was going to stage his own assassination, I would've known about it and I definitely would've told him no," Ecklie replied.
The blonde bit her lip, looking around. Where was Greg? "Has anyone seen Greg?"
Russell frowned. Come to think of it, ever since the shooting, he hadn't seen the blonde anywhere.
"Greg?" Catherine shouted. "Something isn't right, D.B." After the shooting and everyone was running around panicking, she had heard another gunshot, however it sounded far away. But she thought it was just another shot at the mayor. But now that Greg was missing, she thought differently. She gestured to an officer to follow her and they headed towards the back, Russell on her tail while Ecklie went out front. And what they found when they reached the loading dock made their hearts drop.
"Oh no." Greg's phone was smashed on the ground along with a big puddle of blood, bloody bullet and a casing not far from the mess. There was a trail of the blood leading to an area where the tires made an impression in the dirt.
"You think that's-" Catherine began, the color draining from her face.
"No...it can't be," Russell said. He didn't want to believe it, but it probably was Greg's blood. What happened back here and why was Greg involved?
"Ecklie, we have a problem," D.B. said in to the radio. "Greg's been kidnapped."
Nick and Morgan walked down the hall of the hotel before turning into one of the rooms where the body of a housekeeper was found with a swizzle stick stabbed into her eye.
"Nice room," Morgan said as she glanced around at the suite.
"Yeah, it's registered in a prince named Jalal Najib," Nick replied as Brass lead them to the next part of the room.
"The victim's name is Maria Garza," Brass said. "The housekeeper for this suite. She works nights from midnight to eight in the morning. The head of housekeeping found her when she didn't show up for her union break."
Nick was about say something when his phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and frowned.
"Hey Catherine."
"Nicky...I need you and Morgan to come back to the lab. We have a problem. I've already arranged for another team to take over your scene."
The Texan frowned. Catherine's voice sounded different...scared. "Why what's going on?"
"Just come back to the lab...I don't want you driving after-"
"After what?" His heart was beating wildly in his chest. He looked up to see Morgan and Brass staring at him. "Tell me. What happened?"
"Nick...Greg's been kidnapped...and possibly shot."
Nick's blood ran cold and his fingers went numb. He almost dropped his phone but he composed himself, washing a hand down his face. His best friend...his little brother had been taken...and shot! What if he was...no, he couldn't be dead.
"Nick, what's the matter," Morgan whispered.
"Nick? Are you there?"
"Uh...y-yeah. We'll be back there in five minutes." He was gonna kill whoever did this.
"Okay...and Nick. We're gonna find him."
"I hope so." He hung up and swallowed thickly.
"Jim, Morgan and I have to go. There's another team coming." The two grabbed their kits and headed for the exit.
"Nick, what happened?" Morgan asked worriedly.
"Greg...Greg was shot and kidnapped by someone."
"What?!" Morgan tried to keep her cool, but how could she? She knew Greg had a crush on her but what he or anyone else didn't know was that she liked him, too. And now she might miss out her chance to tell him how she really felt. She kept her tears at bay as she followed Nick out the door and back to the Denali. Please let us find him alive.
Back at the museum, Russell was looking at the security tapes while Catherine was processing the scene outside. She had to keep it together even though the man she considered a son was in danger. She wiped her eyes and swabbed the blood on the ground.
"Cath," D.B said, poking his head out the door. "You need to come see this."
The blonde nodded, telling the officer to keep an eye on everything before heading back inside and into the office. "What is it?"
"The camera got a little of what happened. Most of it occurred out of view, though."
They watched as a security guard ran out and then turned when he heard something. He pulled out his gun and pulled the trigger. Catherine gasped, knowing that Greg was probably on the receiving end. The guard went off camera for a moment before someone poked their head out of the driver door, shouting something angrily. Joanna.
"That bitch. She was in on the whole thing," Catherine muttered. All of a sudden they saw the guard dragging Greg towards the van and throwing him in before the doors were shut and drove away.
"Jesus Greg," D.B sighed. These guys were heartless. "Well, from what we can tell, they turned right. And thankfully they were stupid enough to forget about the camera and we have a plate. Let's put out a BOLO for Joanna and the van." Russell looked over at Catherine who looked pale and close to tears. "We're gonna find him. Alive."
Catherine nodded jerkily and walked out of the room, calling Brass to let him know what was going on. No one hurt her family and Joanna was going to wish she was never born.
Greg moaned as started to regain consciousness. He was still moving so that meant he was still in the van. Blinking open his eyes, Greg rolled his head around, hearing voices and the motor cutting into his pounding head. His side felt sticky and warm and he remembered he was shot. He tried to move his arms but found them tied behind his back.
"H-Hey...please...p-please let me go," Greg slurred. Man, he had been hit hard. He rolled over to face the front and saw that there was only one person. The guard. He must've dropped Joanna off somewhere.
"Oh I'll let you go," the guard said, sounding a million miles away. The van screeched to a stop before he hopped out; Greg was terrified to see what was going to happen next. The back doors opened and he tried to move away.
"Don't kill me."
"I'm not gonna kill you. I'm just gonna leave you for dead." He grabbed Greg's ankle and pulled him out of the van, letting him land brutally on the ground. A blindfold was tied tightly over his eyes and then he was pushed to the ground, getting repeatedly kicked in the stomach. He couldn't breathe and he prayed for it to all end.
"S-Stop," he cried out. "P-Please." But the man wasn't showing mercy. It seemed like forever, before it stopped. Wheezing, Greg slackened while trying to catch his breath. He knew a couple of his ribs were probably broken and he was going to have a shit ton of bruises soon. Suddenly, he heard tires screech and the noise of the engine fade away until it was completely gone. Greg blinked open his eyes and shook his head vigorously until the bandana slipped down his face and off his eyes. When he realized where he was, he let out a choked sob...he was nowhere. The van was gone. The guard had left him in the middle of the desert. It was dark and cold and he was bleeding out and most likely had a concussion.
"Oh come on." This was no longer the best night of his life. He pressed his palm against the slowly bleeding wound and breathed heavily, looking around the deserted area. A gust of wind blew and it nearly pushed him over; he stumbled around in a circle, trying to figure out what to do. He wished he never went after those people, he wished he had stayed home today. Shivering violently, he knew he just had to start walking; it was better than standing around, waiting to get eaten by a coyote. Greg lifted up his hands and started to gnaw through the duck-tape binding his wrists together. In a few minutes, he managed to get it off and he started the trek down the dirt road, hoping he was choosing the right direction. He just prayed Catherine and Russell realized he was missing before he ended up bleeding to death.
Greg didn't know how far or how long he had been walking by the time he reached some old pay phone in a shady looking neighborhood, but he did know he was feeling like shit. He waned to pass out so bad, but he knew if he did he'd never wake up. He was exhausted, freezing cold and he could barely feel his fingers; he knew he had lost a dangerous amount of blood and that he didn't have a lot of time. Inhaling shakily, he picked up the phone and dialed the only number he really knew by heart. Nick's.
~+CSI+~
Nick had dropped Morgan off at the lab so she could help interrogate Joanna, the bitch mob-wife that did this to his little brother. All they had to do was find the guard and then Greg. He turned the corner and went down a long road...and then he saw it. The black van with the license pate they've been searching for, headed the other way.
He grabbed the radio and spoke to dispatch. "I need backup at Reno and Fifth! Now!" Grinding his teeth, he turned on the siren and cut right in front of him, even though he risked getting hit. Thankfully, the van stopped and Nick jumped out of the car, his gun raised.
"LVPD, get out of the car with your hands up!" He shouted at the top of his lungs.
"Alright, alright!" The man in the car shouted before opening the door, gun in hand.
"Put the gun on the ground!"
"Okay! Jesus." He dropped the gun and Nick ran over, kicking it out of reach before slamming the guard against the van. "Ow, what the hell is going on?"
"Where is he you son of a bitch?" the Texan growled, stowing away his gun and handcuffing the man tightly.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Ahh!"
Nick bent the guard's fingers. "The guy you shot and kidnapped. He's an officer of the law. Where. The hell. Is he?" But he wasn't getting anything.
Nick heard the sirens down the road and when the police cars stopped, he handed the man off with a frustrated groan before going around to the back and opening the door, keeping his fingers crossed that Greg was still there...but it was empty.
"Dammit!" He was about to go lay one out to the guard when his phone started ringing. Grumbling, he picked it up. He didn't have time to talk right now to anyone. He had to find Greg.
"Stokes."
"N-Nick?"
"Oh my god. Greg? Buddy, is that you?"
"Y-Yeah."
"God, it's so good to hear your voice; where are you, man?"
"I don't..." the line seemed to cut out for a moment and Nick thought he lost the connection when Greg's voice spoke again. "...ick...you have...find me." He heard a lot of static over Greg's voice and the Texan knew the call might not last long.
"I'm gonna find you, kid." He rushed to the car and sped out of there. If Greg had gotten to a pay phone, he must be in town somewhere. "Just hang on. Are you okay?"
"Mmhm."
"Come on, G, I know when you're lying."
"I'm tired...bleeding...wound...hurts...cold."
Shit. "Hang on, buddy, okay? Now I gotta hang up and call Archie to find out where you are, but I'm gonna call back in one minute. Don't die on me."
"Okay...please...hurry."
"I will." Reluctantly, Nick hung up and called Archie. The kid sounded so scared and tired. He had to be quick. "Arch, I need you to trace my last phone call. It's from Greg."
"You found him?"
"He called me and he doesn't sound good, so can you get it?"
"Yeah, hang on."
Nick heard speedy typing in the background. Once he got the location, he thanked the man as well as telling him to call an ambulance and hung up so he could call Greg back. He dialed the pay-phone's number and waited. And waited. And waited. Greg wasn't answering.
"Oh god. Come on, Greggo." Why wasn't he answering? He hung up and tried again, this time getting an answer.
"H-Hello?"
"Dammit, Greg, don't scare me like that."
"S-Sorry...tired."
"I know, man, but you gotta stay awake." Greg sounded so weak...like he was dying. Nick pressed harder on the gas, determined to get there faster no matter how many laws he broke. "I'm almost there."
He cut the corner and finally made it to where Greg was. Hitting the breaks, he jumped out of the car and rushed over to find the young CSI sitting against the pole looking like death warmed over. Even though it was dark, Nick could see the crimson blood staining Greg's shirt and his face looked gray and clammy.
"Jesus, Greggo." He went over to see the phone in Greg's hand, his body shivering violently. "Alright, you can let go of the phone. I'm here now." He took it out of Greg's hand and put it back on the hook.
Greg looked up his glaze over eyes, his breathing sounding anything but normal. "N-Nick? That...that you?"
"Yeah, man. I called the ambulance. You're safe now. How're you doing?" He sat down, cupping Greg's sweaty neck.
"N-Not...to good," Greg wheezed. "Thank you...f-for coming."
"Of course I would come, buddy. I'm not gonna leave you like this. Where else are you injured?"
"Head hurts."
Nick looked around and examined the large bump. "Shit man, they got you good." He looked up, wishing the medics would step on it. He was so pale...more translucent actually. He was loosing too much blood and going into shock. Without caring about getting blood on his clothes, he wrapped his arms around the trembling kid to keep him warm and Greg rested his head on Nick's shoulder.
"So what happened?" Nick said softly, knowing Greg probably had one hell of a headache.
"Chased after the g-guy who shot...shot the mayor. He shot me...woke up in the van...dumped me in the m-middle of nowhere. I don't know how l-long I walked...but so tired. I'm so tired." He leaned more into Nick, closing his eyes.
"Hey, no sleeping, Greg!" Nick shouted, slapping the man's face. "Keep your eyes open."
"C-Can't." The adrenaline was wearing off and he felt weaker than ever. "Weak."
"You're not weak, bud." Nick looked up and knew he couldn't wait any longer for the ambulance. Greg might die if he did. "You're the strongest guy I know. Now come on, I'm bringing you to the hospital."
"What about...ambulance?" Greg asked faintly as Nick helped him to his feet.
"They're taking too long. You gonna be okay to walk?"
"Think so."
Nick wrapped Greg's arm around his shoulder and helped him into the passenger seat. Once Greg was buckled, Nick got into the driver's side and sped back towards town. He looked over to see Greg barely awake and his head lolling on his shoulder. Nick reached over and squeezed his friend's shoulder tightly, keeping it there. "Stay awake, man, alright? You're gonna be fine." He put on the siren, knowing he was gonna have to drive like a maniac if Greg was going to live. What was he saying, of course Greg was going to live. "Stay with me. We're almost there."
He was so tired and he wanted to sleep, but Nick wouldn't let him. The man was shouting at him; he wished he would stop shouting. His head hurt so much. He moaned, putting his head back against the head rest, closing his eyes.
"Greg! Dammit, stay awake!"
"M'cold. Nick...m'so cold."
"Come on man, don't give up on me now. You've fought so hard."
"M'sorry." He couldn't breathe, he couldn't focus. Nick's voice sounded so far away.
"No! Greg I do not accept your apology because you're not allowed to sleep. Greg!" Nick pressed harder on the gas, weaving in and out of cars on the road as it got busier. He grabbed the radio and told the ER to have a trauma team available. "Greg, please...don't give up on me." He couldn't lose his little brother. When he got no response, he looked over and felt sick. Greg's eyes were closed and he was leaning against the window, barely breathing. "Greg! Son of a bitch." Ten seconds later, Nick pulled into the hospital and shouted for help. Not long after, Greg was taken from the car and wheeled out of sight. Nick wiped the tears from his eyes. He prayed he hadn't been too late.
"Nick!"
The Texan stopped pacing and turned around to see Russell, Catherine, Sara and Morgan rushing into the waiting room. He had almost forgotten that he called Russell some time ago, but his mind was too focussed on Greg.
"How's Greg?" Russell huffed.
"I don't know," Nick sighed, running a hand through his hair. "They took him away half an hour ago and I haven't heard from anyone yet." He looked at Catherine. "It...it was really bad."
The blonde pursed her lips sadly and rubbed the younger man's back. "He'll be okay. Greg's stronger than we give him credit for."
Nick chuckled, wiping his eyes. "Yeah I know it's just...when I found him he looked...almost dead. He was so cold and his lips were almost blue. He had lost so much blood; it was all over his shirt. There was a fricken lump on the back of his head the size of a golf ball, no doubt he has a concussion. And from what he told me, the guard had dumped him out in the middle of nowhere and he had to walk who knows how far to get to a pay-phone."
"I'm gonna kill those assholes," Sara growled, clenching her fists.
"You and me both," Morgan added.
"He had such a hard time staying awake in the car. No matter how much I yelled at him to keep his eyes open...I really thought I was going to lose him. I drove like a maniac to get here...I just hope I wasn't too late."
"You did good, Nick," Russell smiled. "Greg doesn't quit that easily."
When the doctor came out, Nick wasted no time asking if Greg was okay. He had to know; he didn't want the last image of Greg in his mind to be of him dead.
"Greg is fine," Dr. Cameron smiled warmly.
"He's okay?" Nick huffed. "But he passed out...it didn't even sound like he was breathing when I got him here."
"That's just a result of major blood loss. He lost a lot, but we're giving him a transfusion as we speak. The wound was only flesh, fortunately hitting nothing major. He does have a small infection, but the fever is stable and he's on strong antibiotics. He had a few other injuries as well, one of them being a moderate concussion, which, along with the blood loss, is another reason why he lost consciousness. He also has a couple broken ribs and some nasty bruises on his torso, like he had been kicked there repeatedly. Luckily, there was no internal damage, but he's going to be severely sore for the next week or so. I suggest that he take it easy for a while. No strenuous activities."
"Oh I'll make sure of that," Nick said. He knew Greg wasn't going to like being at home for a week or more, because he'd go crazy, but it would heal him faster. "Can we see him?"
"Absolutely. The anesthesia should wear off in a couple hours and he'll most likely be asleep for the rest of the night and tomorrow morning. If you'll follow me; we just moved him to a more private room."
"Thank you, doc," Nick sighed in relief before the team followed the man upstairs and down the hallway. They came to a stop near a small room, Greg's name written on the whiteboard outside the door.
"He's a really strong kid. I have no doubt he'll recover in a few days. If you need anything, the nurses out here can assist you."
Catherine nodded while Nick stared through the small window at his fallen friend. He looked horrible; his face was pasty white, sweat coating his forehead. His eyes appeared sunken with the dark shadows that lined underneath them. A nasal cannula was snaked under his nose and a thick bandage was wrapped around his torso while two I.V's penetrated his arm; one feeding him antibiotics and the other giving him blood.
"Jesus Christ."
"He's fine, Nick," D.B grinned. "You got to him in time."
"I know." Thank fucking God. He had already lost one brother three years ago and if he had lost Greg today...well, he didn't think he would be able to cope as well as he did with Warrick. Greg was his crazy, little brother and it was his job to protect him. And since losing Warrick, he was failing to do so. He really needed to step it up, because if something like this happens again, neither one of them will be this fortunate.
The Next Morning
Something felt different...besides the fact that he still hurt like hell all over, it no longer felt like he was in the back of a van or laying in the desert. Moaning, he felt a weight on his hand and he scrunched his face up when his side flared up...and that brought back the memories. The mob museum, the mayor getting shot, chasing after the killer, getting shot, getting dumped, walking forever. Nick.
"Nick!" He shot up from his laying position and gasped when his ribs protested. Had he called Nick? Had he passed out again?
"Whoa, easy there, bud. Relax, I'm right here." He felt a hand on his chest, pushing him back down...on pillows? Where was he? He blinked a few times before Nick's face swam into his vision; squinting against the harsh bright light, he looked around and saw four other people surrounding him. It looked like his team.
"Wh-Where am I?"
"The hospital," Russell said softly, squeezing Greg's arm. "Do you remember what happened?"
Greg scrubbed his face and nodded. "Yeah...is the mayor okay?"
Nick snorted. Classic Greg. "You got shot, kidnapped, dumped in the middle of nowhere and you're asking if he's okay?"
"Well, is he?" The blonde said, eagerly waiting for an answer.
"You never cease to amaze me," Catherine grinned. "Yes, he's fine. He was wearing a bulletproof vest. You, on the other hand, were not. Why did you run off like that with no backup?"
"Yeah man, you could've got killed," Nick added.
"I told Cath I was going, but you must not've heard me. I'm sorry."
"Well, don't do it again," Catherine smirked. "What would we do without our Vegas history buff?"
Greg chuckled feebly before yawning, sinking into the pillows.
"We're all just glad you're okay," Nick added.
"Did you...get the guard?"
"Yeah we got him, man," Nick said, squeezing Greg's hand.
"And...Joanna?"
"Yes," said Russell. "Now go back to sleep. The doctor said you're gonna be sore for awhile so you need all the relaxing you can get."
"Mmmhm." Greg's eyes slipped closed and he quickly fell back into the darkness.
The next time he woke up, there was only one person in the room. "Morgan?"
"Hey," the blonde smiled brightly, putting down the magazine she was reading...well barely reading. She was- as creepy as it sounded- watching Greg sleep, hoping that nothing bad would happen. During the past three hours that the man was sleeping, he seemed to regain his color back and his breathing was sounding a lot stronger. "How are you feeling?"
"Sore," he grunted as he propped himself higher up on the pillows. "Tired."
Morgan inwardly shook her head when she caught herself staring at Greg's chest. She always thought he was pretty scrawny. Cute, but scrawny; she didn't know he had muscles. Damn. "Yeah, you took quite a beating."
They sat in silence for a minute before Morgan couldn't take it any longer. She had to tell Greg how she felt. "Greg, listen...I need to tell you something. With you getting kidnapped and...nearly dying, it got me thinking. I have to tell you the truth...I've had this huge crush on you ever since I got here. I didn't say anything, because I wasn't sure if you felt the same way," she kept her eyes down, not wanting to know what Greg's reaction would be yet. "You're a hot guy, sweet, and a total catch." Oh god, did she really just say that out loud? "Anyways-"
"Morgan stop," Greg cut her off, grabbing her hand. She looked up and saw a smile on his pale face. "I like you too...well, I actually," he hesitated for a second. "I love you."
"Really?" Morgan said, a grinning forming across her mouth.
And then Greg did a very bold move, planting his lips on Morgan's. They stayed like that for a long, passionate minute before pulling apart, both smiling. "How's that for an answer?" Greg laughed.
Morgan rolled her eyes, lightly slapping Greg on the arm. "You're really something Greg Sanders. But I love you, too."
"Good, cause that would've been awkward."
They both laughed again, Morgan cupping Greg's face and stroking it with her thumb. "I'm glad you're okay, Greg."
"Me too." The two got comfortable, Greg making room for Morgan on the bed and they talked for about an hour before the older CSI finally drifted off. Morgan was about to get up and leave so he could relax better, but when she tried to move, she found that Greg's arm was wrapped around her waist. He stirred, tightening his hold on her.
"D-Don't...leave," he mumbled.
Morgan smirked, shaking her head. She laid back down, resting her head on Greg's warm chest. She sighed in content, listening to his heart beat. "As long as you promise not to either," she whispered before falling asleep.
Nick chuckled as he watched the two younger CSI's curl up together. "Well, it's about damn time, Greggo." His little brother was growing up. But he wouldn't stop protecting him. Ever.
FIN
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