Title: Crash and Burn

Disclaimer: Angst, slash, violence, sexual content, language.

Note: Sequel to Inside My Coffin

POV: Nick

Chapter One: Waking to Nightmares

Life hasn't been easy for me. I've been molested by a babysitter. I lived out that Jim Carrey movie, "Cable Guy". Only the crazy cable man stalking me pushed me out of a second-story window. I've had guns drawn on me and my life threatened. Worst of all I was buried alive, in a see-through coffin so that I could live out the horror by seeing all that dirt around me. No one would be mentally stable after that, right? So why did everyone ignore me? Better yet, why did I lie to them when I knew that things were falling apart? Maybe I wasn't ready to admit to myself that I was losing my mind. Paranoia is powerful. I couldn't sleep for days with the lights off; it reminded me too much of that damn coffin. That incident changed my life in so many ways. It's understandable to see why I'm claustrophobic and why I don't really enjoy going into underground places.

I knew I was falling, failing myself. I just didn't know how badly. When I thought things would never look up I found a shining star. I found the one thing that every human being is searching for, love. A love so deep that I began to think life was worth living again. My lover, my other half, was a co-worker and a dear friend. Greg loved me for who I was, and there's no greater love. Yes, I knew the chances I took dating a co-worker, and a male co-worker at that. But I never once expected that Ecklie would air out my dirty laundry to Grissom. That was the straw that broke the camel's back. Greg didn't deserve to be ousted like that, without his permission. I didn't stay to see how Grissom reacted. No, I stormed out of the lab and tried to lose myself forever to the desert.

Three weeks of intense therapy followed. Greg and Grissom where there with me every step of the way. Grissom wasn't bothered that Greg and I had fallen in love. He said that it was human nature to love someone you see nearly every day of your life. And here I thought he would frown upon office romances. Considering the fact that Sara is completely smitten with him and he does his best not to return those feelings. Eventually the pain went away, my stress level went down. Life returned to normal, well, as normal as my life could get. Greg convinced me that we needed to live together. We decided on my place because it was larger. I kept thinking how things had changed between my friends and I. Catherine and Warrick barely spoke to me. Sara, though supportive of the relationship, kept her distance. Even Brass seemed to have disappeared into the background.

Until the day Greg actually moved in. They all showed up for a surprising house-warming party. Turned out that Warrick, Brass, and Catherine just wanted to keep their distance until things got sorted out. Sara stayed away because she didn't want to be around Grissom and since he was helping me get through my depression, he was around a lot. Things fell into place and returned to normal. Greg and I got into a routine. We'd drive to work together, of course, return home together, have dinner, and then watch some TV or do other more intimate things. He wore the ring I gave him like a badge of honor. He didn't even take it off in the shower. I once recommended that he remove it before he worked a crime scene. He had told me that he didn't want to take the chance of losing it.

So I could say that I was happy that Thursday night when I went to bed. I'd left Greg in front of the TV watching some show about crocodiles. My mind was tired and my body ached. I had spent the day helping Warrick moving heavy boxes and rotting pieces of wood. Not the greatest place to be looking for evidence. Warrick nearly got bit by a snake. Animal control had to be called in to remove it from the area. Good thing we did that too, 'cause lying underneath the snake was a blood knife. When I returned to the lab to get the blood tested I found that there was a splinter in my thumb. Even with gloves on, wood finds its way into the skin.

Greg spent the day looking for a stolen car with Brass and Sara. Grissom stole Catherine away to work a mysterious death at a local convenience store. Just another typical day in the life of a CSI. Greg made dinner when we returned home; spaghetti and meatballs with some Italian bread. Then we sat down to watch mindless programs on TV until I just couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. The bed called to me with its soft pillows and warming blankets. I was out before my head hit the pillow.

I should have known that I would have nightmares that night. They'd stayed away for more than a week. I was due for some nasty dreams. Being buried alive replayed in my mind like a broken record. Over and over again I felt the bites of the fire ants and the heat of that damn light. A scream shattered the barrier of my subconscious. I clutched a fistful of my pillow. Greg must have found an old horror movie to watch. The scream sounded again, this time it was followed by evil laughter. An old slasher movie.

"Greg, turn it down or shut it off," I yelled.

The house fell quiet almost immediately. Maybe if I hadn't been so tired I would have gotten up to see what movie Greg had been watching. But sleep quickly took me into its embrace again and I was lost to the darkness. Another nightmare began to play out to me.

I ran through the woods in nothing but my sweatpants. My body glistened with the sweat that covered it. Something, or someone, was chasing after me. I could feel the panic so vividly, my heart beating a frantic rhythm against my ribcage. A shadow stepped into my path and I was knocked onto my back. The shadowy figure climbed on top of me, wrapping hands around my throat. I tried to pry the hands from my throat but they held fast. So I began searching the ground for anything that I could use as a weapon. My fingers brushed against a knife. I never once stopped to think why a knife was lying on the ground out in the middle of the woods. All I worried about was getting away from my attacker. I picked up the knife and drove it into the side of my attacker.

A scream of pain echoed in the night as the hands slipped from my throat. I stabbed the guy again; another scream of pain shattered the dark. The figure crumpled to the ground in a heap. I dropped the knife. Blood coated my hands and I could feel the bile in the back of my throat. As I bent over to vomit the coppery smell of blood hit me hard. It filled the night air masking the scent of nature itself. The smell grew so strong that it actually woke me up. My eyes focused in the darkness of my bedroom. My breathing was labored, my heart still beating as though I had truly been running. The coppery smell lingered, or did it? I inhaled deeply, trying to clear the smell from my system. Instead I was hit full force with a stronger dose.

Panic reached out for me as I sat up in bed and flipped on the bedside lamp. My hands were sticky and slightly wet. With fear I forced myself to look down at them. My hands were clean when I went to bed. Now they were covered in the red of human blood freshly spilled. A splash of color was visible out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look at the other side of the bed. Blood dotted the pillow where Greg slept. More blood pooled on the once spotless sheets. The bed was empty. Greg wasn't there.

My dream replayed in my mind. Had Greg climbed into bed after finishing up with his horror movie? Did I think he was attacking me? Oh god, had I stabbed Greg while thinking that I was stabbing some fictional dream attacker? I shook my head, no, I couldn't have. Where was the weapon? I kept nothing sharp in my bedroom. A gun was in the drawer of my bedside table but no knives. Nothing that I could use to stab someone. What had happened?

"Greg?" I called in a near whisper as I climbed unsteadily to my feet.

The house was cold and I shivered. Someone was talking in the living room. I could hear the voices of two people. Could Greg be out there? Light seeped through a crack in the curtains on my bedroom window. The sun was up. I had slept the whole night? Fear welling up inside me, I quietly pulled open the bedside drawer. The gun, fully loaded, felt heavy in my bloodstained hand. Something wasn't right.

On silent footsteps I crossed the bedroom floor to the door. I hesitated. What if I didn't want to look into the living room? What if the scene there was worse than the one in here? I had no choice, I had to look. The voices floated across the open space to reach my ears. I let the gun fall to my side. No one is in my house. I step out of the bedroom, still on edge. The voices on the TV keep up their chatter. I walk over to flick it off. My hand freezes. The TV is still set on Animal Planet. Greg had been watching that crocodile show when I'd left him for bed. I could have sworn he changed the channel to watch a horror flick. I hit the 'back' button to see what the last viewed channel was before Animal Planet. It took me to a twenty-four hour news channel. Greg never watched a horror movie last night. The screams I heard…

Had they been his?

The pages of the TV guide rustled in the breeze. That's when I noticed that the front door stood wide open. The gun slipped from my hand. A bloody handprint had been smeared across the door. A numb feeling began to wash over me as the realization sunk in, there had been no nightmares. I plucked my cell phone from the coffee table. Good thing Grissom was on speed-dial because I don't think I would have remembered his number. His voice came across the line as the connection was made. But I couldn't say anything. The words just wouldn't come…