True Blood Brothers

Can you believe it! Another CSI story; god I am on a roll. I hope you think and don't worry I'm still working on the other two. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

He couldn't believe he let this happen. Maybe if he hadn't been so curious then he wouldn't be stuck in the situation. Maybe if he hadn't strayed from the group then Nick wouldn't be stuck in this situation with him. God, he had been so stupid! And now Nick was unconscious across from him and it was scaring him. He'd been knocked out almost two hours ago and he still had yet to move. Why did he have to be such a screw-up? Shifting, Greg moved onto his good side- the side that didn't have a fucking gunshot wound in it. It didn't hurt as much as it did yesterday, but he knew that was a bad thing. His body was starting to succumb and he knew he wasn't going to last much longer. He just hoped Nick would get out alive and safely. With one last look at his motionless friend, Greg's eyes slowly dipped closed and he knew no more.

48 Hours Earlier

"Ha-Ha-Ha-choo! Ugh."

"Whoa, G, you feeling okay?" Nick said as he stuffed his things into his locker and grabbing his gun for the start of a new day…er, night.

"Doh," Greg said in a congested voice.

"You should go home...'cause I really don't wanna get sick."

"Thanks for caring for my well-being, Nicky."

Nick felt a twinge in his heart after Greg called him that name. The name Warrick used to call him. But Warrick was dead. "Don't call me that," he growled. He didn't mean for it to come out that way, but it was still a touchy subject. He wasn't ready yet.

Greg's eyes were downcast as he whispered an apology and the locker room was awkwardly silent. And before Greg could say anything else, Nick stalked out of the room. Greg sighed sadly as he, too, slowly walked out of the room. He should have known the older man was still a bit sensitive on the Warrick subject; and even though he didn't even bring the deceased CSI up, he didn't need to. 'Nicky' was usually Warrick's name for the Texan…not his, and he should've remembered that he would never replace Warrick. He would never be Nick's best friend or brother. Sniffing, and not because of his cold, Greg got ready for their new case. Just as he was about to go into the evidence room, he noticed the team- and a bunch of others- were in the break room watching something that seemed to be interesting. Frowning, he joined the group and watched the news report on TV. He glanced over to Nick to see that his face was as white as a ghost; something was wrong. Maybe it had something to do with Warrick? Deciding to wait to ask what was wrong, he turned to the report and listened closely.

"…at the High Desert State Prison where 30 year old Nigel Crane, who has been incarcerated for nearly 9 years, has escaped and is now on the run. LVPD is trying their best to catch the…"

The rest of the words faded out when Greg heard this. Nigel Crane was out and he knew exactly who he was gonna go after. He looked to where Nick was, but he found the Texan had bolted out the door and towards the men's bathroom. Not even thinking twice, he followed and when he entered the room, he was met with a putrid smell along with the tell-tale sound of retching.

"Nick?"

The Texan coughed and wiped his mouth as he stood up and stumbled to the sink. After he splashed cold water on his face, he dried it off and took a deep breath. He looked at Greg with fearful eyes. He wouldn't go through this again. He couldn't.

"We'll get him, buddy," Greg reassured. "I promise."

Nick smiled weakly. "Thanks."

With that, Greg led Nick out of the bathroom and towards Grissom's office. Just as they were about to sit down, Brass popped in.

"How ya doin', Stokes?"

"Never better," Nick said with a sarcastic smile. "I just wanna get through this without being threatened or maimed this time."

"Well, your wish might've just come true." With that, he flicked his finger towards the conference room.

Nick and Greg frowned at each other before standing and following the older man. Catherine, Ray, and Sara were there as well and Greg knew this was going to be serious.

"We might've just gotten a lead. Someone called about ten minutes after the report, saying that they live out in the rural area and she had talked to a man that looked just like Crane. He's holed up in some abandoned house off of I-345."

"Well then let's go!" Nick said standing up eagerly. "What are we waitin' for? For all we know he could just be stopping by."

"Nick," Catherine began, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You should stay behind; just for your safety."

"No! I can't just sit around and let you guys go alone; I want to be there when you catch him…or kill him."

"Nick-"

"Please. I promise I'll stay by you or another police officer the whole time."

Catherine looked reluctant but rolled her eyes and huffed. "Fine; but you need to wear a vest- all of us need to- and you need to stay close, got it?"

"Understood."

"Alright," Brass said. "My guys and S.W.A.T are waiting a few miles from the house. Once we get there…well, you know the deal."

The CSI's nodded in acknowledgement as they got ready and made their way to separate cars. Greg and Nick were in one, Sara and Catherine, and then Brass and Ray. The ride was quiet, and Greg kept glancing at Nick to make sure he wasn't gonna go crazy and run them off the road. He couldn't believe this was happening. When he first heard about Nigel and Nick, he hadn't actually seen what happened, but it had upset the man and didn't want to bring it up. And now years later, he was actually gonna see the bastard. He looked out the window and watched the scene go by. His heart was racing and he hoped things would go okay.

"Hey G?" Nick suddenly spoke.

"Yeah," Greg replied, but didn't look away from the window.

"I'm uh…I'm sorry about this morning. I didn't mean to snap at you like that."

Greg looked at Nick and smiled sadly. "Don't worry about it; I get that you're still…hurting, and I went a little too far. I should be the one who's sorry."

"Greg-"

"Don't worry about it. It's fine, I swear."

"Okay man," Nick smiled as he brought his eyes back to the road. After a couple seconds of silence, Nick spoke up again. "You never told me how you got sick; allergies or something?"

"Let's just go with 'or something'" Greg muttered looking back out the window.

"Come on, G, just tell me."

Greg sighed in annoyance. Nick was never gonna let it go. "The stripper I was with a few nights ago was sick, but I didn't know. Gives a whole new definition to cooties, huh?"

"Stripper?" Nick laughed. "Didn't peg you for that type of guy…then again, maybe I can believe that. What was her name? Was she hot?"

"Cynthia and I'd give her a 15 out of 10."

"Well done buddy, well done," Nick grinned proudly.

The rest of the ride there they were laughing like nothing had ever happened that morning. Like they were brothers.

~+CSI+~

"You ready?"

Nick nodded to Brass, his jaw clenched tightly in anger. Nigel was a dead man. He was too dangerous to even be in prison. Half of them were in the back while he, Brass, Greg and Catherine were out front.

"On my mark," Brass whispered. "Go, go, go, go! Nigel Crane, LVPD! Come out with your hands up!" He shouted as they burst through the doors.

Nothing.

"Let's search the house," he grumbled, gesturing the S.W.A.T and other officers spread out. Just as they were about to, all of them heard a loud noise upstairs. Instantly, they lined up and quietly climbed the stairs, guns at the ready.

"Nick," Catherine whispered as Nick tried to get ahead. "I mean it, stay by me."

"Alright, alright."

As the line moved up the stairs, Greg found that he was last in line. Well, it was better than Nick being last. No telling what-

Clunk

Greg frowned and paused, forgetting that staying with the team was a priority. What was that noise? It had come from somewhere downstairs and he couldn't resist; he had to check it out. He knew it was a bad idea, but he completely forgot his common sense and stepped back down.

Walking stealthily through the house, he rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. It was too quiet; so quiet he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears. His breathing intensified and the total silence was disturbing. Maybe the sound was just his imag-

"Time for beddy-bye," a voice said. And before he had time to turn around, someone shoved a recognizable smelly cloth over his face. An arm went across his chest and as much as he tried to twist and squirm, his attempts to get away were weakening. He could feel himself slipping away and he knew it was too late; he was a goner. His eyes began to dip close and in seconds his whole body went limp, darkness taking over.

~+CSI+~

The group silently made their way up to the second landing and spread out.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

And now there was only one door left. This was it; Nigel Crane had no way out and he was gonna get his.

"Crane! We're giving you one last chance!" Shouted Brass angrily. "3, 2-" Brass kicked the door after impatience got the best of him and they dispersed into the room. The sight they saw was disappointing yet humorous. Nigel Crane wasn't there; it was just a bunch of raccoons running around, climbing in and out of the open windows.

"Great," Nick said, holstering his weapon. "Cute baby raccoons and no Nigel."

"Maybe he already left," Sara said.

"Yeah." Then Nick looked around with a frown. "Where's Greg?"

"The blonde kid?" An officer said. "He was right behind me; he was the last one to come up the stairs."

"Did you actually see him come up the stairs with us?" Nick said as he left the room, worry growing at the pit of his stomach. Something wasn't right here. Where the hell was Greg? God, if he wandered off he was gonna kill him.

"Well, n-no."

"Dammit," Catherine cursed, following the Texan.

"Greg! Greggo!" Nick called. Getting no response, he tore down the stairs and frantically looked around for his friend. But the young CSI was nowhere to be seen…and when he rounded the corner, his heart stopped.

"Cath!" He shouted. "Oh god."

The team ran to Nick's aid and they, too, all froze in their tracks. Right in front of them was Greg's gun, vest and a note on the top. Shakily, Nick put on a glove before picking it up, unfolding it and regretting what he was gonna read.

Hello Nicky,

Long time no see. I've missed you and every day I was in my cell, I'd think of you. You are my idol Nicky; you are me and I am you. Why can't you see that? We are meant to be best friends. Not this stupid, energetic wannabe that I managed to take from underneath your nose. You should tell Catherine to watch her CSI's better. Anyways, this'll probably be the last time you'll see him; you see, he is not your best friend or your brother. He cannot take my place; not when we had such a strong connection. If you really want him back, I'll be happy to make an exception…for a price. And I know you Nicky. I know what you'll do; we have the same minds. You'll know the right thing to do. I'll call you with more details, but right now I have a piece of worthless shit to take care of.

-See you soon, your one and only true blood brother,

Nigel

When Nick was finished, tears were at the brim of his eyes and his hands were shaking so much, he began to wrinkle the paper. Son of a bitch! This was really happening. Nigel took Greg from him. God, this had to be a nightmare.

"Greg."

TBC?

What do ya think? Should I continue? Let me know, because I'm so excited to write this story! And I have no idea why, but I just love writing stories from with 'after- Warrick dies' time zone…weird. I think I just like the time zone where Nick is still a bit bruised after his best friend's death and Greg is still not quite in Warrick's shoes. And wasn't that an awesome CSI?! Greg got locked in a freezer; just imagine all the things that could've happened and all the Hurt!Sick!Greg stories that could be made. *hint hint* (not me…yet…I still have two stories to tend to, so off to write them!) Anyways, let me know! REVIEWS!