Title- Everything will be better in the morning or The Sun always shines Tomorrow or Why Not? (Like a different title better? TELL ME!)
Warnings- Character's death, from his point of view!
Summary- Sometimes, you are on top of the world, with not a single care. Then, other times, you've been shot through the throat, and end up bleeding to death in the arms of your best friend. And then, it's over. Warning- Character's Death.
Disclaimer- Like I said, if I owned this show, Greg would die frequently, only to return the next week. Not good for a story that tries to be realistic.
A/N- Couple of shout outs- xxDeadlyroseXX, BlackDeath6, Charlie-Becks, DragonFriend95, GreggolovesNicky, Achildwithbloodstaineddaggers, FizzyFitz, X3, Seshat 3, and Kittyluv, you guys are why I am writing this fanfiction instead of studying for a test I am no way prepared for.
Here we go…
It had been a normal, hot day under the Nevada sun, but Nicks Stokes always kept his air conditioner on. Years of enjoying the breeze off the sea had conditioned Greg Sanders to roll down the window, but, the dirty blonde haired man resisted the urge today. Today was a bright, cloudless sky, and he, a level one CSI, was currently riding to a simple Breaking and Entering, though it had turned into a double murder. It seemed like an easier case, since both bodies where there, and, well, Greg had been feeling the exhaustion of work slowly creeping up on him. He wanted an easier case, and was glad he got to work with Nick, too.
Nothing could ruin his mood, it seemed. To start off the day, Sara had accepted his proposal for a date… Actually, it was half of a salad during break, but, to the ex-lab rat, it was a start to winning the vegitarian's heart. Then, he had won the 'I control the radio' contest against Nick after the Texan nearly veered off the road. Greg admitted it- he had won with a cheap shot, a jab to the side, but a technical win was still a win.
Being in such an amazing mood, Greg flashed a smile to Nick, and hit the setting for station 1- Nick's country music station. Instantly, the Texan's eyebrows rose a bit, but the younger man just smiled and settled back. He listened to the music, and instantly recognized it. Big & Rich, the 8th of November. Without meaning to, he found himself singing along with the chorus.
"On the 8th of November,
The angels were crying
As they carried his brothers away.
With the fire raining down
And the Hell all around
There were few men left standing that day.
Saw the eagle fly,
Through a clear, blue sky
1965, the 8th of November."
He had a soft voice, actually pleasant to listen to, or so his girlfriends have said. Still, Greg was pretty sure it wasn't his singing voice that currently made Nick gape at him.
"Nicky, close your mouth and keep your eyes on the road. I'd like to live through to tomorrow, please." Greg couldn't keep the laughter out of his voice, and one small giggle escaped as the other's jaw snapped close.
Luckily, they arrived shortly after the song ended, and Greg didn't know the next song, so he couldn't sing along and showcase his recent addition to his music collection. Secretly, Big & Rich were stashed in his cd holder in his car. There songs were pretty nice.
Nick got out first, and Greg paused, before pulling out his cell phone, giving his boss, Gil Grissom, a quick ring, a habit he had established as of late. Ever since he was attacked, both Grissom and Catherine Willows had started asking him to call them whenever he arrived at a scene. He didn't mind, in fact, he saw it as a way of them showing they cared.
"Hey, Griss, it's me.. we arrived safely, Brass and a few cops are still here.. No worries, it's cool. I mean, I still am on your clock, and I get to talk… So.. how is your case going?" Greg asked, bending down to tie his shoe. He paused, finishing the loop, and standing, shifting left and right. "Grissom?? Gil??" He paused, and glanced at the phone… hm… call ended… must have been a faulty connection.
Grabbing his case from Nick's Denali, Greg headed after the broader man, glad to see Brass hadn't started the briefing yet. Stepping forward, he also stepped into his more serious persona.
"Hey there, Brass."
"Hello Stokes, Sanders. Seems a B and E turned into a double murder. Mother is in the kitchen, the daughter in still in her bed upstairs." Nick tried to hide his wince, but Greg had caught it. Instantly, he spoke.
"I'll take the upstairs. Nick, if I need you, I'll call you, man!" He was already halfway up the staircase before Nick or Brass could say anything, which they didn't. Greg was glad, knowing he wasn't the only one who needed a break…
Greg often thought about Nick's obsession with the death of a child, but never had the guts to call him on it. Instead, he just made sure, when there was a case like that, his house was fully stocked with Nick's favorite type of beer. He was pretty sure tonight, or later today if the case was a quick open and closed one, the Texan would appear at his door.
Those thoughts slid from the man's mind as he opened the door, and was blinded by a pink nightmare. Pink walls, pink pillows, pink EVERYTHING!
"Looks like someone puked pepto bismol in here.." Then, he spotted the young girl, her blonde hair gently dyed an unnatural reddish color. Slowly, he lifted his camera, taking several shots. He spotted an open window, and approached it.
"Possible entry way.." He raised his camera and took a few shots, before going into his case and pulling out the fingerprint powder and brush. He was so focused on watching the fingerprints slowly become visible that he never heard someone come up behind him, only felt as a hard object came down on the side of his head, and Greg fell sideways with a loud thud. For a second, the world went black.
Sorry for the delay, school, and then lost my beta- Will be posting the second flash back within the week, hopefully!