-Empty Eyes-

Just a random thing that popped into my head and refused to let me sleep. Ugh... characters not mine. Set somewhere after Post Mortem and before the season finale. Mentions of 'Who are you?' and 'Grave Danger'. Enjoy! Reviews are loved.

When he stepped into Greg's condo, only a few blocks away from his own, he knew something wasn't right.

Greg had to be here, he knew. His shoes were kicked off and lay on the floor beside the table his keys and wallet sat on by the front door. The jacket he'd been wearing at the start of shift last night was tossed over the couch and a light was coming from down the hall.

Unable to completely ignore the instincts drilled into him in both the police academy and all he had endured as a C.S.I, Nick cautiously made his way toward the light. If he'd had his gun with him, it would be drawn. "Greggo?" He called out loudly.

However, he received no response, which only fueled his concern.

When he reached the correct door, which was left slightly ajar, he immediately concluded that it was the bathroom. "Greg?" He demanded.

This time he heard something. Soft sobs were coming from the other side of the door and without any further thought; he pushed it slowly open, revealing the large master bathroom.

He could hear the water coming from walk-in shower stationed in the far corner of the room. The tiles around the shower were shimmering with water, making it obvious that the drain in the floor was being overloaded.

"Greg?" He spoke softer this time, approaching the shower. The constant, echoing sound of the spray hitting the tiles was nearly deafening to him.

The picture before him caused Nick to freeze in place.

The younger man was huddled in the corner of the shower, knees pulled to his chest, and arms wrapped around them. He was as curled in on himself as much as humanly possible. The water, which had long since turned cold, had apparently once been scalding hot, as he could see pronounced reddened skin on Greg's arms and legs. And, the one thing Nick couldn't miss, were the tears that were mixing with the stream of water that just kept raining down.

Nick stepped under the spray, moving to sit beside Greg, ignoring both his own state of dress as well as Greg's lack thereof. He rested a hand on the other's shoulder, wondering just how far gone Greg was right now.

The next thing he knew, Greg was holding onto him. As if his life depended on the contact. Fingers curled into fists in the now sopping wet material of his shirt. Nick's strong arms wrapped around his smaller frame as Greg's head fell against his neck.

"What's wrong?" He finally forced himself to ask, running his fingers through the dripping wet hair.

More sobs were the only thing that answered and he took it as a sign to just stay there and hold on, because that's what Greg needed right then. So that's what he did.

After another ten minutes of that, Nick reached for the knob to stop the water. "Come on." He said gently, pulling Greg to his feet. However, it didn't seem as though the younger man was up for that right now, as he collapsed against Nick, his weight nearly sending them both to the ground.

With quite a bit of effort, the Texan managed to get them both out of the shower. Greg had drifted back into his vegetative like state so Nick dried him off as best he could and went in search of clothes for both of them.

He helped Greg into his boxers and a pair of pajama pants, and then tugged an old Eagles shirt on over his head. Once he'd dried off and changed for himself, he helped the younger man towards the living room.

"I'll make you something to eat." He told the still rather unresponsive man. He was rather glad that Greg had asked him to watch his cat while he was out of town on a conference some three months ago, so he knew his way around, and he still had a key. Going for something easy, he made chicken noodle soup, offering the bowl to Greg a few moments later.

But Greg was having none of it. He just stared right through Nick with the most vacant, terrifying expression the Texan had ever seen. He looked like the corpses they processed. Empty eyes. Empty, lifeless eyes.

He set the soup aside, moving to sit beside Greg. "Hey. Hey, Greggo, ya gotta talk to me. What's going on?"

Greg looked at him this time, as if finally realizing he was there, but he remained silent.

"You're scaring me, G." Nick prodded, trying to keep their eyes locked even as Greg turned away again.

"I… I killed someone." He whispered so softly Nick very nearly missed it.

Nick's mind raced. Was he talking about the James case? Or had something happened today? He'd been out in the middle of the desert for the whole of the shift and then some, and he'd only stopped at the lab long enough to drop the evidence and clock out. He'd heard mumblings that Greg had gone home early and had taken it upon himself to see if he was okay.

"Please say something." Greg bit his lip.

"What happened?"

That vacant look returned and Nick knew now that he was replaying something in his mind. Reliving whatever torment had occurred. "I… I… it was just supposed to be a simple arson case. I begged Grissom to le me go solo." He paused briefly. "A dumpster was set on fire… and… and we found a body in the debris. After David left with the body, while I was processing it I noticed someone crossing the tape. The officer on scene was at the other end of the alley and before I could even yell I had a gun in my face."

Nick inhaled, recalling his own similar experience. When everyone had found out about it, a lot of people had acted as if he should have known better. But Greg had supported him, hadn't commented, just listened while Nick talked and didn't criticize.

"You know I don't carry. I hate guns…" Nick nodded; they had all tried to get him to reconsider that stance after he'd been attacked before. He'd refused. "The cop didn't know anything was wrong. The guy wanted something out of the dumpster, a wallet, I think; he must have left it behind when he lit the fire."

He noticed Greg was having trouble relaying this story as he went, so he pulled the younger man back into his arms, like how they'd been in the shower. It seemed to help.

Greg sniffed softly, wiping his eyes. "He was right next to me; he had the gun pressed to my head. Ordering me to give him what he wanted, but I didn't have it. I'd only just started processing the area around the body. He was so close, and I was trapped in the dumpster, and I grabbed the gun." He eyes closed and Nick could feel the wetness through the fabric of the borrowed shirt he wore. "We fought over it. And it went off. The next thing I knew… he fell backwards. I shot him."

Nick rested his chin over Greg's head, holding him close. "It wasn't your fault, Greggo."

"Yes! It was!" he pushed away from the older man, distancing himself as much as the sofa would allow. "I killed him, Nicky! I've killed two people!"

"No. Greggo, if anyone can understand… all the bad stuff happens to you and me. We've both been through so much lately. You -defended- yourself against two people who were trying to kill you. You survived. You're lucky, Greg." He moved to reach for the other again but he still wasn't having it. "You and me, Greg. We're the lucky ones in all of this."

The speech seemed to collapse whatever barrier Greg had built up in the last few minutes, because the next second Greg was in Nick's arms again, sobbing. "I don't see how anything I've been through could come close to when you were missing."

"You have no idea." He'd spent the entirety of both of Greg's hospital stays miserable, unable to bring himself to go visit the younger man. He was afraid, if he saw that, he might just tell Greg how much he cared for him.

Greg shifted slightly, so his back rested against Nick's chest. "Can you stay for a while?"

Nick only nodded, leaning his head forward to nuzzle against Greg's neck. "Yeah. I'll stay as long as you want me to. You should eat something, though."

"Alright." His eyes shifted to the bowl of soup set on the coffee table. It was gone in minutes; apparently, Greg realized just how hungry he was.

"Feel better?"

Greg nodded. "I'm sleepy though."

Nick stood, pulling the other man to his feet. "I'll get you squared away and then I'll crash out here on the couch." He started toward the bedroom, expecting Greg to follow. But, he didn't. "What's wrong?"

"I… I want you to…" He stopped, cutting himself off. "Will you stay with me?"

Grasping what was being asked and fighting off the idea that Greg might actually be as interested in him as he was in Greg, he agreed. "Yeah."

This time Greg followed. The two climbed into the queen-sized bed, Greg curled up on his side facing Nick, one arm strewn over the Texan's strong chest while Nick mirrored the position, holding tight to Greg.

"If you have any nightmares just wake me up." Nick told the younger man.

"I don't think I will." Greg predicted, pressing his lips to Nick's for the briefest of seconds.

The Texan forced his eyes open, looking down at Greg who seemed to be concerned over what his reaction would be. Nick just held tighter.

"Night, Greggo."