Phew. This one was a doozy. I hope it turned out okay. Thanks to everyone for their reviews.
The hospital was calm, hushed even. Nurses and doctors passed by the serenely slumbering man, neither having the heart to wake him up nor send him home. Someone else passed him also, stealing quietly through the halls and avoiding the staff. They kept their face down, clutching in one hand the ID card which gave them complete access to this part of the hospital. They lingered briefly over the sleeping man's blood-stained form, reaching out as if to caress his face, then snatching that same hand away as if on fire. Now was not the time. It was another's attention they craved. Head ducked nervously, twitchy fingers tucked strands of hair behind their ears; they hurried down a private hallway, glancing into doorways surreptitiously. They found one which seemed to their liking and they hovered at the small window, peeking inside, a pained expression on their face as if waging an internal battle. Looking around furtively they reached for the handle and slipped into the room, allowing the door to close with a soft click.
The room's sole occupant slept soundlessly, aided by machines which emitted a continuous beeping lullaby. The unnoticed intruder stood with back to the door, eyes traveling slowly down the injured man's body. They crept on silent feet to the side of his bed, staring down at his head which thrashed as if in the throes of an unpleasant dream. A slight frown creased his perfect features and his mouth opened in a silent gasp as a tentative finger traced his jawline. A soft moan escaped his perfect lips and the intruder withdrew their hand, sitting down in a chair pulled up to the bed. They drew a leg up to the edge of their seat, face struggling with a problem. Bringing a hand up to their lips, they gnawed on a nail absently. There was an indecision in their movements, as if they had been drawn to the room involuntarily, and, once there, didn't know what to do. They reached out once more, running fingers down the man's neck, then snatching them back as if a child, frightened by his more insistent tossing. They went back to gnawing at a finger, a vacant smile crossing their face. A nervous tongue flicked at dry lips. They leaned forward, intense eyes fixed on the man's face. As if sensing this unwanted attention, the man's struggles became more pronounced. The other occupant of the room took no notice of his movements, sitting perfectly still with eyes fixed to the man's face. As the machine's incessant beeping increased, the intruder became agitated, looking sharply from the door and back to the object of their scrutiny. They stood abruptly, turning as if to exit, then appeared to change their mind and crept to the side of the man's head, bringing their lips to his. Fingers inched down his chest. A shrill alarm began to blare, and the intruder turned quickly, slipping out the door and closing it with an inconspicuous snap. They glanced from side to side and finding the way clear, crossed into deeper shadows, moving hastily down the hall. They stole past the still-sleeping man and turned a corner into another hallway.
The man woke with a start, alerted by some invisible presence or disturbing feeling. He looked around quickly, unaware of the silent interloper who snuck through the hospital's halls, dropping the misappropriated ID card outside a nurses' station, there to be found gratefully by the absentminded staff worker. No one would think to raise the alarm; there was nothing to alert them to the unwanted presence's actions except by the alarm calling nurses running to a room down a lonely hallway. The man stood up, staggering after them.
"What's going on?" he demanded from a passing woman. She stopped, looking him over sympathetically.
"One of the patients set off his alarm, it's probably just a nightmare."
"My friend...when was he moved? Why wasn't I told?" The man seemed lost in his surroundings. The nurse placed a compassionate hand on his arm and he calmed down.
"We didn't want to wake you, it looked like you needed the rest. Is your friend Greg Sanders?"
He nodded.
"He was moved into a recovery room. You can visit him once he's been calmed down, but he will still be sedated for some time."
The man nodded thankfully, following her down the adjacent hallway.
_______
Nick sat by Greg's bed, idly playing with the edge of his blanket. He stared down at his hands, lost in melancholy thoughts. How would he face Greg when he woke up? The guilt gnawing at him had not abated during his sleep, and now, seeing Greg in this bed, struggling painfully with God-knows-what demons, he could hardly live with himself. So he stared at his hands instead of looking into Greg's face. A soft noise caught his attention; he straightened quickly and watched the stirring figure in the bed. Greg coughed weakly, throat clearing after long hours of disuse. Nick clenched the blanket tightly. Greg's eyes fluttered, trying to focus on the blurry figure at his side. As his senses cleared of the drug-induced fog, he could see the man more clearly.
"Nick?" he whispered hoarsely.
"Hey, Greg," smiled Nick shakily. "Welcome back buddy."
"Where am I?" said Greg, shifting his head to look around. He was groggy, and moving was hardly bearable, so he stopped and looked back at Nick.
"The hospital," said Nick, shifting uncomfortably. "You're going to be fine, they tell me."
Well, they tell me they aren't sure if you're going to be fine, thought Nick bitterly.
Greg's eyes travelled around the room once more, then came back to Nick where they lingered. He blinked in confusion, as if trying to remember something desperately important.
"I'm going to ring for the nurse, ok Greg? They told me to when you woke up," said Nick quietly, pressing the call button.
Greg nodded absently, still staring at Nick with that searching expression. A nurse entered the room shortly and began busying herself with Greg's comfort, closely followed by the doctor who was evidently to perform the tests. Nick could hardly bear Greg's scrutiny and hurriedly excused himself. He stood outside the door, leaning against the wall and breathing deeply. Eventually he'd have to go back in there to talk to him, and beg forgiveness. He rather absent-mindedly reached into his pocket for his cell phone, noticing it had been set to vibrate and held ten missed calls. All from the team, checking up on Greg. And what could Nick tell them? He'd know soon enough. Hoping against hope that there would be no further damage, beyond the psychological -- of which I'm the cause, he thought morosely -- Nick tapped at the floor with an impatient foot. Soon the doctor and nurse exited Greg's room. Nick stepped in front of them immediately.
"Well? Is he going to be all right?"
"It looks like there is no permanent nerve damage and his brain function is fine, although he is still quite groggy and will be for some time. The memory loss is natural and should return soon. We gave him some more medication for the pain, so he might not be quite lucid when you talk to him," said the doctor. "Please don't be too long as he does need his rest." Nick thanked him gratefully, nearly collapsing against the wall in relief. When the doctor left he hurriedly fumbled to dial his phone, putting it to his ear.
"Grissom."
"Gris, it's Nick! Greg just woke up."
"How is he?" The concern was evident in Grissom's voice.
"He couldn't remember much right away, but the doctor said everything's fine physically. They expect a full recovery," said Nick breathlessly.
"That's wonderful. I'll tell the rest of the team." Grissom hesitated briefly before continuing. "How are you doing, Nick?"
"I'm fine, it's just...hard," said Nick, staring at the tiles beneath his feet.
"Listen, I'm sure I speak for Greg when I say you are not at all to blame for what happened."
"Yeah, well, I'll wait for Greg's verdict," sighed Nick heavily. Faltering, he continued, "Is there any news...on the case?"
Grissom grunted in frustration. "Not much, I'm afraid. Her prints are at his apartment, but she's not in any databases. We found the bar they went to, and got a description that matches yours, but it doesn't match anyone in the database and the name she gave is also fake. It's as if she doesn't exist."
A fresh wave of guilt claimed Nick and his eyes prickled uncomfortably. He wiped them with the back of a hand. Would he never be able to give Greg the justice he deserved?
"Well I'm sure something will come up," he said, hoping he sounded positive.
"We'll keep trying, of course. Keep us informed. We're going to head over as soon as we can," said Grissom, hanging up.
Nick snapped his phone shut and grasped the door handle, pushing it open cautiously. He stepped into Greg's room and froze, staring at him. Greg was sitting up now, eyes half open, but their gaze penetrating and...knowing.
Oh God, thought Nick. He remembers.
Nick forced himself to walk all the way into the room, meeting that blank gaze that was neither accusatory nor forgiving. He sat down in a chair awkwardly.
"Greg..." he began, but found himself at a loss for words. How do you tell a man that's just been through something so horrific that you're...sorry? Just sorry? Was that enough? A frown crossed Greg's face, then morphed into an expression of unspeakable suffering and loss. Nick's heart wrenched within him, and a flood of words and feelings escaped his mouth.
"Greg I am so sorry. I can't begin to explain how sorry I am --"
"Then don't," interrupted Greg.
"But --"
"It's not your fault, Nick," said Greg firmly. "I can't help it that she was a psycho, and neither can you. Anyways, it's my fault for not being more careful. I shouldn't have, you know, right away..." He looked away uncomfortably, fighting off incipient tears. Unfortunately the movement was too sudden for him and a searing pain travelled up his spine, causing him to gasp and grit his teeth. Nick stood in alarm, reaching out to him, but Greg only waved his hand away. The pain subsided and Greg leaned back in bed, sweating and shaky. He closed his eyes wearily.
"I'm kind of tired, Nick. I think the meds are starting to kick in," he said finally, eyes open but not quite meeting Nick's worried stare. Nick sighed and nodded, realizing he was probably the last person Greg wanted to talk to right now. He hesitated briefly at the door and addressed Greg.
"Brass will be by later to take your statement if...if you're ready."
Greg nodded tiredly, wanting nothing more than to be left alone, and so Nick left the room, sensing now was not the time. He didn't notice the head duck quickly back behind a corner, nor the eyes that narrowed at him speculatively. He clutched his phone tightly, glancing back at the room, then shook his head sorrowfully and walked away. The eyes followed him.
Greg lay in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. He hadn't meant to be so harsh with Nick, but his emotional state wasn't ready to deal with any of it. His body was sluggish, no doubt due to all the drugs surging through his veins, and his mind wasn't much better. He knew vaguely that he should be more upset, especially after what had happened, but he just couldn't make himself react. A great weariness settled on him and he allowed sleep to carry him off. A brief thought flashed by -- something he should remember. Something he remembered from one of his dreams, that screamed at him to be wary, to be afraid, but he could only acknowledge the thought from afar. He sank into the covers, lying back and allowing the numbing drugs to take over his body.
A figure dislodged itself from the shadows and checked either end of the hallway before entering the dozing man's room.
_______
Nick sat in the waiting area, head in hands. He hadn't meant to leave Greg so readily, but Greg obviously didn't want to talk to him. And why would he? Nick debated going back to comfort him somehow, but what would be the point? Greg would talk when he was ready, and having to give a statement to Brass later would be stressful enough. Better that he get some sleep now, while he could and before his story became public knowledge. Nick shook his head -- sooner or later he'd have to go back to the lab and face the questions. His phone rang, startling him to attention.
"Hello?"
"Hey Nick, it's Brass. How's Sanders?"
"He's okay, they expect a full recovery," said Nick, rubbing at his face in exhaustion.
"When can I come over to get his statement?"
"He just fell asleep, I think this has all been a bit much for him right now. Can you come back in a few hours, maybe, so he can get some rest?"
"Sure, it can wait. And Nick -- "
"Yeah?"
"Go home and get some rest. Grissom told me you've been there all night." Brass' voice was kind.
Nick looked down at his blood-stained clothing and scratched his head. "I guess you're right. I should get cleaned up a little too, and Greg is fine now."
"See you."
Standing up wearily, Nick promised Greg he'd be back in a few hours.
_______
Greg slept peacefully, unaware of the excited presence hovering protectively over his body. Their hands fluttered over his figure before finally coming to rest on his shoulders. Greg woke with a gasp, eyes springing open to stare at the person leaning over him.
"You!" he moaned, momentarily fighting through the drugged haze, heart tightening in fear.
She smiled happily, glad he remembered their time together. Then, emotions flitting over her face rapidly, she frowned slightly, bringing his hand up to her mouth and resting his index finger on her lips.
"Shhh..." she murmured, breath floating over his skin and sending horrified shivers through his body. His eyes widened fearfully but his body seemed rooted to the spot. Something in the back of his mind told him he should be resisting this revolting encounter; he should find the button to alert someone, anyone, but he did nothing. Her eyes transfixed him, that same mysterious smile on her lips.
"It's okay, no one will disturb us for now. I can see you're worried, but no one will disturb us."
Greg shook silently.
She pouted, drawing closer to his face. "Why so quiet? On our date you had much more to say."
He shook his head, the whites of his eyes showing. HIs breath caught in his throat and he could only let out a gurgling sound. She touched his cheek gently, a concerned look coming over her face.
"You poor thing, you're shaking. What's got you so upset? I'm here now." She held up a finger knowingly, as if a brilliant idea had entered her mind. "Oh, I understand. You're afraid of the nurses, aren't you? They're so invasive, poking and prodding. Don't worry, honey, they won't be able to get to you anymore."
Greg stared at her, shaking with tears building up in the corners of his eyes, but her hand on his body had a restraining power and he couldn't make himself utter a sound.
"There, there, it's okay baby, I'll protect you from them," she said, smiling at him obliviously. She grasped the railing across from his body and pulled herself onto the nestled beside him, knee slowly traveling up his body and caressing his legs, an arm thrown around his chest. She ran her fingers down the neckline of his gown. A strangled moan rose from Greg's chest and he closed his eyes, stomach churning with nausea. She took no notice of his discomfort and burrowed closer to his body, cooing softly and smiling to herself. She rested her chin in the crook of his neck, breath coming in short, warm blasts on his exposed skin. He quivered under her touch.
"I came to see you, while you were sleeping. You were so peaceful, until I touched you. Then you were so happy to feel me," she purred into his ear. His eyes snapped open and he recoiled from her body. She rolled to cover his own more, fingers forceful as they explored it.
"I tried to leave, but I couldn't," she mused while playing with his hair. "You're so different from the others," she said, eyes boring into his feverishly. Suddenly a smile crossed her face. "I came back for you. Don't you feel it too? Your body is responding to mine."
She pursed her lips and lifted herself to straddle his thighs, eyes level with his.
"Don't you feel it, too?"
He nodded, face anguished. His chest shuddered with suppressed sobs.
"You know..." She ran her lips down his cheek. "You know I didn't mean to hurt you. You loved me, and I'm sorry. I love you too, baby. I know you couldn't live without me, and I couldn't do that to you."
A smile filled her face and she curved her body to fit his, pulling at his arms so they encircled her figure. Greg's overwhelmed mind snapped, his thoughts fighting against the rushing current of horror and devilish elixirs coursing through his blood. His environment became fluid and his mind was carried along with the current. He felt as if he were floating in a dream, and she was there, but she wasn't the vengeful demon from his nightmares. She said things to him, silken words penetrating the fog, and they were nice things, things he wanted to hear. The pain was gone now, as was the fear. He walked with open arms to the figure from his visions and embraced her. Tightening his arms protectively around the warm body in his lap, he was at ease. She would help him to heal. He smiled down at her, and she responded with an eager grin.
"I'll keep you safe from them, Greg," she whispered, catching his perfect lips in a kiss.
He nodded at her, succumbing to the delicious taste.
"And you'll come with me, won't you?" she pressed. "I'll come back for you and you'll join me. We couldn't live without each other." Her wide eyes were alarmed and he smiled reassuringly, calming her with a lingering kiss.
"Of course," she said, smiling. "And you won't tell anyone I was here? It'll be our little secret."
He shook his head, smiling serenely.
"Good," she said, closing her eyes and resting against him.
The drugs lulled him back to sleep, and that nagging feeling which told him to feel uncomfortable also dissipated with the blissful lethargy that enveloped him. The woman waited until he was asleep, then extricated herself from his arms and touched his face with a lingering hand. She crept to the door on light feet, closing it behind her quietly, and walked down the opposite hallway.
