Temperature
Prompt for Anon
Greg stumbled out of his car, his joints and bones aching like never before. He felt like shit and that was probably an understatement. For the past couple of days he hadn't been feeling well, but he had been trying to hide it the best he could…today, though, he didn't think he'd be able to. He barely could get out of bed this morning and wanted to call out, but there was a pile of evidence he needed to get through by the end of his shift. After clocking in, he trudged to the locker room and collapsed on the bench, resting his head in his hands. Only twelve hours…just get through twelve hours, Sanders.
"Hey G. Whoa, you alright buddy?" Great. It was Nick.
He lifted his head and blinked up at the Texan. "Yeah, I'm just tired. Haven't been getting much sleep lately." Getting seven hours of sleep out of five days would probably do that to you.
Nick gave him a wary glance before he put his things away in his locker. "Okay, see you later. Grissom gave Warrick and me a huge case. We're probably gonna be at the crime scene for hours…in the sun."
Greg smirked. Normally, he would wish he was going to a scene, because he really wanted to be a CSI, but not today. Today, he was glad to be shacked up in the air-conditioned building. "Have fun with that."
Nick snorted and then exited the room, leaving Greg alone once more. The smile disappeared from his face and a small groan escaped past his lips. A big scene meant a lot of evidence. And a lot of evidence meant overtime. He was not going to survive this day. After taking in a shaky breath, the blonde pushed himself up and slowly made his way to his lab, dreading the upcoming hours. He prayed it would go by fast.
But it didn't. Two hours had passed and not much had gotten done. He was barely able to keep his eyes open and more than once, he found himself resting his head on the table. He was surprised Ecklie hadn't fired him yet. His pile of evidence wasn't getting any smaller and he knew it was gonna get worse when Warrick and Nick came back. Just the thought of it made him groan. Once he put in another DNA sample into the machine, he propped his cheek on his fist and watched the computer search through the database. The pictures flashed through his eyes and it started lulling him to sleep. Maybe closing his eyes for a few minutes wouldn't hurt. Burying his head in his arms, Greg closed his eyes and dozed off. It felt like he had only been sleeping for five minutes when he felt a finger tap his back. And the gentle touch felt like he was being poked by an iron rod. With a sharp hiss, he shot up from the desk, breathing heavily.
"Easy, tiger it's just me."
Greg looked next to him, seeing Nick and Warrick staring at him uneasily.
"Oh…hey. When did you guys get here?" He asked, rubbing his eyes and trying to hide the burning pain in his shoulders.
"Just a few minutes ago," Warrick said, eyeing the pile of evidence besides the blonde. He had seen it earlier and it looked as if the stack hadn't lessened a bit. "You shouldn't be sleeping on the job, kid. If Ecklie sees you, you'll get an earful."
"Yeah…yeah I know," he sighed. "I just…I haven't been feeling well."
Nick set his stuff down and went over to Greg, placing a hand on his forehead. "You don't feel warm. Buddy, if you're hungover you could just take an Advil or something," the Texan ended with a chuckle. "Now you know, though, that drinking with a lady before a work shift probably isn't a good idea."
Greg rolled his eyes and grumbled. "Yeah, you're probably right." Even though the older man wasn't. Obviously they didn't believe him and they wouldn't unless he had a raging fever or passed out on the floor.
Nick smirked. "Well, here's my evidence. I hope you can get all this stuff done by the end of shift; I was gonna invite you to come watch the game at the bar with Warrick and I."
"Yeah…I hope so too." But even if he did finish, he would rather go home and sleep than be at a noisy, crowded bar.
"Shout when you have something," Nick said as he and Warrick walked out of the lab.
When the two disappeared, Greg sagged in his chair and glared at his work pile. He was going to die; he'd rather just tell Grissom he's sick and go home, but then Nick would find out and probably tell the supervisor he was just "faking it" which he sure as hell wasn't. Massaging his stiff neck, Greg sat forward, rubbed his eyes and got back to work…as long as he could anyways.
~+CSI+~
An hour passed and miraculously he got half his pile done when his body started to ache more than ever. He was hot, then cold, then hot again; his head was pounding and the words on the paper before him kept blurring. Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead and his stomach rolled. Yeah…he was sick. He had to be. Tightening his lips, Greg jumped from his chair and rushed to the bathroom. Thankfully there was no one else inside and he went straight for the first stall, falling to his knees and puking what little he had eaten in the past week. His body trembled violently, his back stung and his fever rose dramatically. When he was finished, Greg wiped his mouth and gripped the seat of the toilet to push himself up. He took one step out of the stall and his world tilted, the floor slipping out from underneath his feet. He fell to the ground, his breathing labored and deep. His eyelids felt like they were being held down by weights and he prayed that someone would find him soon before his body fried up. Letting out one last deep exhale, his eyes closed and his world faded into a fiery darkness.
Nick walked down the hall towards Greg's lab. Surely the kid would be done with his evidence by now right? But then again, Greg seemed a little off his game today which wasn't like him. Maybe he really was sick? He turned the corner and looked up to see that the room was empty.
"Greg?" He stepped in, saw the computer going but didn't see the younger man around anywhere. Frowning, he was just about to check the break room when he heard someone shouting for help. His heart leapt into his throat and he ran down the hallway towards the bathroom where the voice was coming from. A bunch of other people were crowded around the door and he pushed through them, stopping at the sight before him. Hodges was kneeling next to Greg who was lying on his side and unmoving.
"What happened?" He breathed, getting next to them and bringing Greg's limp body in his arms. "Jesus." Heat was radiating off his body like a furnace. Where did this fever come from? He seemed fine an hour ago. "Greg. Greggo, can you hear me?" He brushed back the kid's sweaty bangs and knew that this was really bad. Especially since he wasn't even rousing. "Did anyone call an ambulance?"
"Yeah," Mandy said, appearing from the crowd. "And I brought a thermometer. It looks like his fever might be pretty high."
Nick took it from her and placed the device in Greg's ear. When it beeped, his heart dropped. 105.4°. "Shit." He gathered the blonde into his arms and stood up. "Move! Get out of the way!" He shouted at the techs and they separated to let him by. He held Greg's head close to his chest as he sprinted to the locker room showers. The kid's fever was so high, his skin felt like fire. Why didn't he see this before? Going to the back, Nick got into the closest shower and turned it on, setting it to cold. Keeping Greg cradled in his arms, he sat down under the spray, not caring that he was also getting soaked in the process
"You're gonna be okay, bud," he whispered, listening to Greg's barely existent, scratchy breathing. He was really worried; why wasn't anything happening? Wouldn't the cold water wake him up by now? Nick prayed he wasn't too late. It was when Greg's head lolled on his chest did he see the red rash climbing up his neck. His forehead creased and he pulled down the collar of the blonde's shirt past his shoulder. "Oh god." It looked like it went all the way down his back. What the hell was going on with this kid? He held Greg tighter, blinking the water out of his eyes…water that splashed onto the younger man's emotionless, pale face. The ambulance really needed to get a move on before Greg's brain fried. The water wasn't gonna stall the fever forever.
~+C+~
When the medics finally arrived, Greg was taken from Nick's arms and placed on the gurney. Nick refused to let Greg go through this alone, so he joined them in the ambulance. Once in the privacy of the vehicle, Greg's wet clothes were cut off and cooling blankets were placed over his body. Before they were, though, Nick got a glimpse of the rash that seemed to spread down his chest.
"Temperature 105.7 and rising. If it gets near 106, he's going to need an ice bath upon arrival."
Nick swore underneath his breath. Greg's fever rose despite his efforts to cool him off. The water barely did anything to help. He should've believed the kid when he said he wasn't feeling well…what kind of friend was he?
"What's wrong with him?" He asked after the medic, Adam, placed an oxygen mask over Greg's mouth.
"It looks a lot like meningitis," Adam replied. "We won't be able to tell which kind, either bacterial or viral, until we do a spinal tap. Bacterial is worse, so we just have to pray for the best."
The Texan wiped his mouth and gazed at Greg, his skin flushed and sweaty. He reached over and placed his hand over Greg's, clutching it gently. Meningitis was a serious illness and it made him wonder how long Greg had been feeling this ill. Sure he had been a little slow and tired, but he just chalked that up to not getting enough sleep or drinking too much…not this.
"Shit…temperature at 105.9. What's the ETA?!"
"Two minutes!" The driver shouted back.
"Have an emergency team ready with an ice bath ready. We can't waste any more time."
When they finally reached the hospital, Greg was immediately taken away, leaving Nick by himself in the waiting room. He had to admit that he was really scared right now; Greg was sick and he had failed to acknowledge that. He made a joke out of it. Now they were both gonna have to face the consequences.
~+C+~
He was on fire…at least it felt like he was. Maybe he had died and gone to hell, despite his efforts of being a good person. Groaning hoarsely, he felt hands touching his face, arms and legs. He couldn't think straight, his brain quickly shutting off; what the hell was going on? The hands on his arms and legs tightened their grip and he felt like he was flying before landing in ice cold water. What the fuck! He gasped wildly, his eyes flying open and skimming the room frantically. Where was he? What happened? Wasn't he just at the lab?
"Easy Greg, just take it easy," a soft voice said. "You're at the hospital."
Shivering violently, he glanced to his right to see a blonde woman swimming into view. He blinked a couple times to focus, but it didn't do much. "W-W-What ha-happened?"
"You have meningitis, but we had to cool you down before your fever got too high."
His chest heaved. He had to admit the water felt good at first, but he was really starting to get cold…and nauseous. The ache in his back was returning and he could no longer control his shivering.
"M'cold," he slurred, fighting to keep his eyes open and the watery bile from reaching his mouth. His head fell back against the basin and he moaned in agitation. "Don't…f-feel good." He faded in and out of consciousness and the words spoken around him became muffled.
"Take…out…to get…spinal tap."
Spinal tap. He knew what those were. Giant needles being stabbed deep into his back and there was always a risk of something bad happening. Paralysis. Just the thought of it made him queasy and he could no longer hold back. He began to struggle in the nurse's hold, wanting to get the hell away from them. He didn't want this spinal tap. He didn't like needles. But the sickness seemed to get the best of him and lurching forward, Greg expelled whatever was left in his stomach.
"Let's get him out," the doctor said urgently. "We need to find out what sort of meningitis this is so we can treat it."
"Yes doctor," the nurses replied. And just as they were about to lift him out, Greg's body began to twitch aggressively.
"He's seizing! Get him out!" The doctor watched as the blonde was lifted from the bath and placed onto an awaiting bed. They had to do this spinal tap soon or the kid was going to be in a lot of trouble.
~+CSI+~
Nick's leg bounced nervously as he sat in the waiting room. Forty-five minutes had already passed and there was no news on his friend. What if something went wrong? What if Greg's condition got worse? Rubbing his hands on his thighs, Nick stood up and paced the room. He was just about to go start kicking down doors when a woman in a lab coat stepped through the doors.
"Nick Stokes, here for Gregory Sanders?"
He sighed in relief, but he still wasn't completely relaxed. "Is he okay?"
"He's stabilizing now. We had a few complications at first, though."
Nick frowned. "Complications? What complications?"
"He had a seizure just before we took him out of the ice bath. But like I said, he's stabilizing, the fever is gradually going down. It's definitely meningitis, but we haven't done the spinal tap yet since we had to make sure there would be no more impending seizures. If you would like to come sit with him, it might be better because he was pretty agitated the last time he woke up."
"Sure." Anything to see his little brother. He followed the doctor to a small operation room and saw Greg lying on his side, eyes closed and breathing heavily like he had just run a marathon. He had a gown on, but the back was open, so his spine was exposed. And regardless of his ice bath, he still had a sheen of sweat on his forehead.
"Is he awake?" He asked the doctor while sitting on a stool by the blonde's head.
"He should be, we didn't sedate him."
Nick nodded and looked at his friend sadly. "Greg? Greggo, can you hear me?"
It took a moment, but Greg's eyelids peeled open, showing glassy brown orbs. "N-Nick?"
The Texan grinned. Resting a hand on the kid's arm. "Hey buddy. How are you feeling?"
"Like crap. W-What are you d-doing here?" He swallowed. "Shouldn't you be…at work?"
"Nah. I wanted to make sure you were okay. The doc is gonna give you a spinal tap."
Greg closed his eyes. "Don't want one."
"You need one bud. They need to see how sick you are."
The younger man groaned. "This s-sucks."
"I know man, I know. It'll be over before you know it, I promise." He glanced over Greg's body to see the doctor readying the needle. And it was big. But Greg didn't need to know that. He looked back down to see Greg staring tiredly at him and the older man smiled. "I'll be right here, kid. Just keep looking at me. You can hold my hand if you want, okay?"
Greg gave him a small smile and nodded. "'Kay."
The doctor came over and rubbed some iodine on Greg's back. "You're gonna feel a small pinch, okay Greg?"
"Mmhm."
"And Nick, make sure he doesn't move."
The cold needle pressed against his back before piercing his skin. The blonde tensed and whimpered, causing Nick to take Greg's hand, the kid's nails instantly digging into his skin.
"Deep breaths, G."
Greg did as he was told, closing his eyes. He was exhausted…completely sapped of all his energy and he wanted to sleep. As if Nick read his mind, he felt a cool hand on his forehead.
"Go to sleep, buddy. I'll be here when you wake up."
The blonde didn't reopen his eyes. "You'll stay?"
"Of course. Just relax."
In seconds, Greg's body went slack and his grip on Nick's hand loosened. The Texan sighed, rubbing Greg's knuckles with his thumb. God, the kid sounded so young and vulnerable when he was sick.
"He's gonna be okay, right?"
The doctor extracted the needle, clear fluid now filling up the syringe. She passed it off to a nurse and then turned back to Nick. "I hope so. The fever has gone down a little, but not as much as I'd like. Once we find out what kind of meningitis he has he'll be better I hope; with bacterial it requires a lot more intravenous antibiotics along with some other cortisone medications to reduce the risk of brain swelling or more seizures. With viral, it's a little less threatening, only needing antibiotics for the fever and rash. Other than that, it will most likely cure on its own over the course of several weeks. I'll let you know more once we get his tests back. Until then, we'll put him in a private room so he can rest."
Nick bobbed his head and watched as Greg was wheeled away from him once more.
Forty-five minutes later found Nick sitting by his friend's bed, watching him breathe in and out steadily. The Texan felt a lot better now that he knew the meningitis was only viral and not bacterial. An I.V was protruding from the under a bandage on the back of his left hand, giving him fluids while another one was poked in the middle of his right arm for the fever reducer medication. His face was still rosy however his fever was progressively going down which made Nick feel a lot better.
"I'm proud of you buddy, for pulling through. Just keep fighting a little bit longer and it will all be over." He squeezed the kid's fingers before standing up to go let the others how things were going.
Throughout the next couple of days, the team came and went, Greg drifted in and out of consciousness. Nick never left even though Greg barely recognized him; he would wake up for a minute and look around. Nick would always greet him, hoping the kid would respond, but he just stared at him before his eyes could no longer stay open. By the third morning, Greg's fever finally broke and he was looking a lot better. There was a dark bruise on the back of his hand from where the I.V had been, but he no longer needed the fluids since he was improving. Nick was watching a baseball game on the provided TV with the sound muted when Greg stirred.
"W-Where am I?" Greg whispered hoarsely, getting Nick attention.
The Texan spun around and smiled. "Hey, buddy. You're at the hospital after you passed out in the lab a few days ago. Do you remember what happened?"
Greg shook his head. "Not really," he coughed and Nick grabbed a cup of water, helping him take a couple sips. Once he was finished, the blonde sat up a little, wiping his mouth. "All I remember was being in the lab. After that, everything is blank."
Nick pursed his lips sadly, shifting in his chair. "You had meningitis. The fever was bad but…it was only viral meningitis. You're okay now."
Greg nodded. "So…I passed out in the lab, huh? How many people saw?"
"Pretty much everybody. Actually, Hodges was the one who found you."
"Great…I'll never hear the end of it from him or anyone at the lab."
"G, there's no need to be embarrassed," Nick chuckled and the sobered up. "I should've believed you when you said you were feeling sick, though. I'm sorry."
"It's okay," Greg smiled weakly. He was still pretty exhausted. "I didn't even know…it just felt like a cold…didn't think it would be something so serious."
Nick grinned. "Well, I'm glad you're okay, Greggo. And no one will make fun of you; if they do, I'll kick their ass."
Greg laughed. "I don't doubt that…thanks, Nick."
The older man grinned, patting Greg's arm. "You're welcome. Just don't scare me like that again, alright?"
"Promise…where are the others?"
Right on cue, Catherine, Sara, Warrick and even Grissom filed into the room.
"Hey sweetie," Catherine grinned, coming up to the bed and kissing him on the head. "How are you feeling?"
"A lot better."
"We come bearing gifts," Sara said brightly, holding up a CD player, some movies, and a couple of get well cards."
"We would've brought your Blue Hawaiian coffee, but we don't know where you hid it…plus caffeine probably wouldn't be good for you right now anyways."
Greg smirked. "I'll never give up my hiding spot."
"Of course you won't," Catherine rolled her eyes but laughed.
"You should see the pile of evidence on your desk though," Warrick said. "I can't even see the desk, so you're definitely gonna need that coffee, kid."
Greg paled. "What?" He was gonna be backlogged for the rest of his days.
The team burst out laughing at his reaction.
"I'm joking, buddy," Warrick snickered, shaking Greg's shoulder. "We all pitched in and got it done for you. Look at it as a welcome back present."
After a second, the younger man seemed to relax. "Don't fricken scare me like that," he breathed.
"Sorry, I had to take the opportunity."
Greg rolled his eyes. Looking at his surrogate family with a smile. He hadn't felt the caring and warmth from a family since he moved from his mom's five years ago. It was a good feeling and he knew he would be here to stay. This was his home now.
FIN
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