thanks for the comments you guys. here's the last part. sorry for any grammatical errors i thought i caught them all in the first part and i think i got them all in this one. if not then im sorry lol. hope you enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: i own nothing.
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Part 2
The Denali skids to a stop in front of the store in the middle of nowhere. Riley is the first to jump out, cell phone already in hand. She knows there will hardly be any service but it's worth a try. Nick follows behind her with his hand on his gun, just in case.
"Riley, this isn't a finished scene. We could get put on leave for contaminating the scene." Nick grabs her arm but she snatches it away.
"I know, but don't you want to find Greg?"
"You are one stubborn woman," he mutters to himself as she hurries around the side of the store.
"Look! Shoe prints. They look to be about the size of Greg's." She starts following the footprints until they stop. Frowning, she turns to Nick who shrugs and goes the other way. With a huff she goes her own way, still hoping to find something that will lead her to Greg.
Anything.
***
The dripping is back. Only this time it's right behind him. It's slowly driving him insane.
The pain turned to a dull thud an hour ago. The bleeding in his shoulder slowed and it is now a slow trickle. He quit trying to ignore it all in the hopes that it would stop. Whether because he doesn't make it out of that abandoned shack or because he's found. Either way the pain will eventually be gone, the bleeding will completely stop, and he'll be on his way to….somewhere.
Sniffling directs his attention from himself to the door. It's daylight now and he can see a shadow just outside the door. It's in the shape of a dog of some sorts. It's coming closer to the door and the sniffling is getting annoying.
Greg's eyes go wide. It's a coyote and it's staring at him. It growls but Greg kicks up some dirt and the thing backs up. With a last snort the dog backs out and trots off.
His head droops, chin resting on his chest. He's sweaty and gross and covered in dried blood but he can't seem to make himself care enough. He's tired and his breathing is labored from the belt still stuffed into his mouth.
He could cry but he thinks he's all out of tears. He's already cried enough tears to fill the ocean. He just doesn't have it in him anymore.
But sitting here, hands handcuffed to a pipe, cuts littering his body, and his entire body aching, reminds him of a saying he heard in his twelfth grade English class: Noli me tangere. Touch me not. He thought for the longest time that nothing about this job could touch him. He's the one with the gun and the police escorts and the monster sized car that could run anybody over. When the explosion happened he thought nothing of the saying. He still felt like nothing could touch him. Then the beating happened and he was left in an alleyway bruised and broken. Then he believed that maybe, just maybe, he could be touched.
And it scared him.
***
Riley sighs heavily and wipes the sweat off her forehead. She hasn't found anything. After the shoe prints got lost she found the barely there trail of blood. She followed it for at least a few minutes until it stopped.
She expected to find a drag trail but instead she found a few smudged prints from animals. She found a hole that something dug and nothing else.
She's gotten extremely worried now. Greg is no where to be found, no one seems to care except she and Nick, and now she can't even find the hint of a lead. She's a CSI trained to find the evidence, the things most people can't see. But she can't find a single thread of something that will lead her to Greg.
She's desperate.
A growl catches her attention. She turns around only to see some abandoned shack with a coyote sniffing around and eyeing something Riley can't see. Then the coyote trots off into the distance. That's when her curiosity peaks.
"Hey Nick! I think something's over here." She doesn't wait for Nick to show himself; instead, she jogs towards the shack, hopes high.
She can hear Nick calling her name but she doesn't listen. She flings open the rickety door the rest of the way and peers inside.
"Greg!" Riley rushes inside, Nick right behind her. "Nick help me."
Greg groans, head falling back against the pipe. "Shit, Greg. How'd you get into this situation?" Nick starts digging in Greg's jeans looking for the key to the cuffs. He finally finds the tiny piece of metal and reaches for the cuffs. When they're unlocked Greg's body sags to the floor but Nick catches him under the arm. "Riley, call the ambulance!"
Riley fumbles with her cell and finally manages to dial 911. "Hello?…Yes, I need an ambulance out here fast!….I don't care! There's an injured person out here so get the hell out here now!" With that said she hangs up and shoves the phone in her pocket. "They're on their way."
Greg laughs dryly as Nick hauls him to his feet, an arm around his waist. He hisses out a curse when Nick's hand lands on a cut. "Sorry. Let's get you out of here."
Riley hurries to Greg's other side and drapes his other arm around her shoulders. He can barely stand on his own two feet and it takes the two CSI's a few minutes to get him up and out of the shack.
The struggle to get to the Denali seems to take hours but in reality it only takes about ten minutes. By the time they get to car the sirens of an ambulance can be heard and Nick and Riley both let out a sigh of relief.
The ambulance comes to a stop a few feet away and two EMT's rush out the back of the van. They bring a stretcher with them and hurriedly take Greg from Riley and Nick. He's cursing loudly with a hand over his forehead.
Then he passes out.
***
It smells too clean and the sheets are too crisp. Greg knows this feeling. He's been in a hospital bed way too many times for his liking.
"About time."
Greg smiles at the sound of Riley's voice. He opens his eyes, immediately squinting against the harsh lights in the room. His head is pounding, his breathing is slowed, and his pulse is racing. But he doesn't care because he's alive and well.
"What took you guys so long?" he rasps out. He looks around the room and sees the entire team standing or sitting in various places. Riley points to Nick who's eyes go wide.
"That optimistic bastard thought you were fine until I convinced him to come out to the crime scene with me." Riley punches Nick in the shoulder and he flinches away from her.
"Hey, I know Greg. He slept in for an entire day one time without letting anyone know where he was or what was up. Grissom sent in the cavalry only to find Greg buried underneath tons of blankets." Nick holds his hands up in his own defense and backs away from Riley's punches.
Greg laughs but it turns into a wince. Then a nurse bustles into the room fussing about the number of people in there and that it's time for his pain medication. Greg grumbles his protests as the nurse inserts a needle into his IV drip.
"Awe come on, Harriet!" Greg whines and a pout turns down his lips. He crosses his arms but immediately regrets doing so when his shoulder pulls tight. "Ow."
"Mhm. Now stop wiggling around, Gregory. You'll pull your stitches in that shoulder." The nurse taps his good shoulder before taking her things and leaving the room.
"I'm sick of hospitals," he grumbles, rubbing just below the stitches holding his shoulder together. He lays back against the pillows sighing.
"Then quit getting yourself into them." Riley gives him a 'duh' expression and he rolls his eyes.
For a moment the room is silent. The team is staring at Greg, wondering what to say. "How bad is it?" He shoves the thin sheet off his torso and yanks the hospital gown up. His chest is covered in thin cuts; nothing too deep to do bad damage but still bad enough to cause significant blood loss. He just stares at the cuts that will leave new scars. New scars to add to the already piled-high list. Now the front can match the back.
That really hit him hard. He pushes the gown down and pulls the blanket up to his chin, feeling defeated but grateful at the same time. It could've been a whole lot worse; he could've been left there, never to be found.
"Guys, we should get back to work." Catherine clears her throat and starts shooing people out of the room. Greg watches them go, except for Riley. She stays, telling the others she'll be right behind them.
"You gonna be okay?"
"Riley, I'll be fine. Harriet will take good care of me." Greg forces out a laugh as Riley sits on the edge of the bed.
"You sure? When we found you, you were covered in blood and barely awake." She touches his hand, staring down at the bed.
"I'm fine. Thanks to you."
"And Nick!" Riley adds quickly. "Can't forget that Nick was there too."
"Okay, okay. Calm down." Greg smiles and this time it isn't forced or pained. "Thanks. Maybe this will be the last time I'm ever in here."
Riley stands to leave but not before leaning down and giving Greg a kiss on the cheek. She ruffles his hair, smiling, and heads for the door. "It better be." She waves from the door and he waves back, still with a smile on his face. "Feel better."
Greg watches her leave until he can't see her through the glass windows anymore. With a sigh he scoots farther under the covers carefully. A painful twinge in his shoulder makes him close his eyes tightly. How he gets himself into these situations he'll never know. But for now he'll lie in the hospital bed covered in cuts that will leave new scars and he'll wonder and he'll probably cry again.
And he'll keep Noli Me Tangere in the back of his mind and promise himself that he'll never think of himself as invincible again.