Title: Never Too Late

Chapter: 10

Rating: PG-13 for language and some sexual themes

Author's Note: So sorry for the delay in posting! Midterms. Need I say more? Enjoy!

In the past few hours, Greg had gone through more emotions and psychological changes than a woman throughout all nine months of pregnancy. Grief turned to anger which turned to relief which turned to fear. He sat on Nick's couch, then stood, then laid on the cold wood floor, then stood again just trying to figure out how he should be feeling. But nothing was coming to him, no resolution would find him, because there wasn't a Google search he could run or a book he could buy on how to deal with the aftermath of killing the man you once loved after he attacked you in your own home. And he would have felt completely lost and alone, had it not been for Nick who, despite having no idea what to do or say, was somehow managing to be exactly what Greg needed.

After he'd been evaluated by a doctor and interviewed by psychologists and detectives alike, Greg had been released on the premise that he not go home until the evidence had been completely processed and the "crime scene" had been released. He'd briefly considered the fact that there was also a dead body on his kitchen floor, but was far too confused to fully process that fact. He took Nick up on his offer - demand, really - and agreed to stay with him until everything was sorted out. The team was already at Greg's apartment processing by the time Nick got him into the passenger seat of his truck.
Nick hadn't known what to say at first, and it showed. The car ride to Nick's house was twenty minutes of completely awkward silence, and it wasn't until Greg was safely inside his front door and blankly staring at Nick's floor, trying to decide where to start with his emotions, that Nick was behind him, holding him in a tight embrace, whispering simply "I'm here for you, whatever you need me to do". And that was more than enough for Greg, and his dramatic series of conflicting thoughts rushed over him like an ocean tide.

"I'm sorry," Nick sighed. It was the first time either of them had spoken in upwards of ten minutes. Greg was now lying on his back on Nick's floor, and Nick sat on the couch bending over with his hands clasped between his legs.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" Greg asked.

"I shouldn't have told you to call him, I should have known better, G. I'm so sorry."

Greg sat up and looked at Nick. "Nicky, please don't feel guilty. There's no way you could have known. And besides, I didn't even have to call him. He was still after me."

Nick nodded, though Greg knew he would continue to blame himself. Greg curled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms protectively around them.
"I don't know how to feel here, Nick," Greg nearly whispered.

Nick got off the couch and joined Greg on the floor, pulling him into his arms. He kissed the top of Greg's head as the same tears that had been falling off and on began to trail down Greg's face again.

"There's no right or wrong way to feel here, G," Nick reassured. "You went through something horrible today, there's no protocol for this. You just...feel however you want to feel. We can sort through it all later."

Greg smiled. We, he thought. I like that.

"How long have you known?" Greg said in a defeatedly small voice. His back was turned to Liam who had been standing at the front door, hand on the knob and about to leave, for at least a whole minute. Greg didn't want to talk to him anymore, not then or ever, and he didn't really want to know the answer. But he had to.

"A couple months," Liam answered in an equally small voice.

Greg flinched. Months. He didn't want to bring up that Liam could have told him or that he could have at least insisted on using condoms, he could have reminded Liam that having unprotected intercourse knowing you are HIV positive and not letting your partner know was classified as a crime. A serious crime. But he didn't, because it didn't matter anymore.

"You'll die, you know," Was all Greg could think to say. It was cold and far below the belt and the implications of that statement hit himself harder than they could ever hit Liam, but it was all there was to say.

Liam sighed, but nothing else on his body moved. His hand still grasped the cold golden metal of the doorknob.

"I know."

"My God," Sara said, taking in for the first time the scene the rest of the team was already processing.

Catherine nodded but didn't make eye contact. She was knelt on the floor beside the huge blood pool that created an outline of the body David had taken away only minutes before. She took a break from photographing to rub the bridge of her nose between he fingers, shaking her head slightly.
"Grissom is processing the rest of the apartment and Warrick is with Jim talking to the neighbors. Want to start fingerprinting?"

Sara nodded, her eyes darting throughout the apartment. The beginning smells of decomposition wafted up her nose along with the faint aroma of coffee. Greg's coffee.

"How is he?" Catherine asked as Sara opened her kit for the fingerprint powder.

She shrugged. "Hard to say. The doctor says he's fine, physically, and they released him which is good. Nick took him to his place, he'll stay there until we release the scene."

Catherine nodded and they worked in silence for many moments before either one of them spoke again.

Finally, Sara sighed, put the brush and jar of fingerprint powder on Greg's counter, and peeled off her gloves. "Why would he do this?" She asked simply.
Catherine shook her head slowly and began to speak before Grissom's voice from just a few feet from Sara startled them both.

"He was confused," Grissom said in his usual business-like tone. "He was conflicted, he thought Greg was to blame for something, he acted the only way he knew how, and..." Grissom's rational tone gave way to raw emotion. He shrugged sadly. "And that's all we'll ever know, really. It's tragic, when a man hates himself so much that he can't stand to accept the life only he is responsible for. He had to blame Greg because he could stand to blame himself."

Catherine and Sara both nodded but stared only at the floor.

Finally, Sara asked aloud what they had all been wondering. "The HIV, do you think..."

"Not our business," Grissom interjected sternly. "We don't need to know. All we know is that Greg will need us, and we need to focus on proving this was in self-defense. The DA and Ecklie both are going to be all over this, and for now all I want us to worry about is proving that Greg had no choice but to kill him. Understood?"

Both Sara and Catherine nodded again, all further thoughts of very serious implications of Liam's attacks forced out of their minds to make room for evidence collection. Grissom was right, they needed something more than Greg's testimony and the circumstantial evidence they had if they were going to keep Greg out of the courtroom.

They slowly went back to processing and Grissom left to take their first batch of evidence back to the lab. Neither Sara nor Catherine spoke again for a very long time, though unanswered questions still hung in the air like the metallic scent of blood.

Several hours later, Greg was no less confused or conflicted. He still felt relief and horror and something like filth clouding his space, but also clouding his space for a good half an hour was Nick, intertwined with him, open-mouthed and out of breath as they made out viciously enough for Greg to think it might somehow help him sort everything out. He had no such luck, and the only thing he was feeling was a stinging lust and a burning desire for more. More he couldn't have. More he really, really wanted to have.

"Stop," Greg announced as Nick's hand grazed the bare skin under his shirt. He forcefully detached their lips and pushed at Nick's chest to create some distance between them.

"I...sorry," Nick said immediately.

Greg rubbed his forehead in his palm. "No...it's okay, Nicky. You should be able to...I should be okay with..."

Nick silenced him by slowly rubbing his palm against the small of Greg's back. Greg sighed and looked up at him.

"Why is it you don't want me to touch you, G?" Nick asked softly, tilting his head slightly to one side.

Greg sighed. That question was too complex to answer. "I don't know, Nick. It's not you...I mean, I want you to touch me, but everytime we go just a little too far I..."

"Spook," Nick finished.

Greg nodded.

"I guess I feel contaminated," Greg confided. "I worry that, somehow, I'll infect you or something. I know it's stupid, I can't transmit it to you just from skin to skin contact, I know that, but...it's been a really long time since I've felt like I'm not toxic, Nick, and I guess it just takes a little while to learn to remember that I'm not as toxic as I think I am."

Nick's heart nearly broke at Greg's words, and he tried to imagine what it would be like to live constantly feeling like a threat. He remembered Michael, and his vitality and charisma and unafraidness, and how that all gave way to fear and self-loathing and the very look on Greg's face just then. He wanted to make Greg realize that he wasn't that, he was so much better than he thought he was.

Nick sighed. "Can I tell you something, G?"

Greg looked at him with tear-brimming eyes and nodded.

"When Michael and I first met, and we started having sex, at first I thought, 'This is dangerous, right? This has to be dangerous.' But then as time went on, I realized that the only real danger in this world - the only kind that can truly paralyze us - is the danger involved in forgetting what matters. Michael mattered, my love for him mattered. My love for you matters, Greg, and I know it's going to take a lot of work to make you believe that you are wonderful and worthy and so completely fantastic. But until then, what I can do is try to convince you that I am on your side, and I will take every step with you so long as you want me there. Kay?"

Greg nodded, a heart-felt, smiling nod as saline drops trailed down his face. He kissed Nick, and he felt, for the first time in a long time, no fear.

"My God, kid," Liam said throatily as he maneuvered his way off of Greg and onto the empty spot in the bed beside him.

"Mmm," Greg hummed in agreement, unable to form words, still coming down from a pleasure-induced high.

"I've gotta tell you, Greg, I'm surprised you can still be that good considering how crappy you've been feeling lately."

Greg nodded. He was surprised too. With the fatigue and weight loss and general sense of illness, he and Liam had been on a bit of a sex hiatus. He was hugely happy it was over, though, and he expressed this by placing an open mouthed kiss to the back of Liam's hand.

Liam brought his other hand to Greg's face and began stroking slowly with the back of his fingers. His right leg draped possessively over Greg's, which were happily resting under the weight of Liam's more muscular limbs.

"I love doing that with you," Liam nearly whispered, fingers tucking a piece of lose blonde hair behind Greg's ear.

Greg smiled cockily. "I know."

Liam gave him a small, playful kick inducing laughter from both of them before returning his attention to Greg's face.

"I mean it," He whispered. "There's something about it...it's not just 'cause it's sex. It's more than sex. With you it's like...magic."

Greg would have given Liam crap for the cheesy line if he wasn't so enthralled by it. They shared a gentle kiss.

"I think...we should get married."

Greg stared at him, half trying to figure out if he was kidding, and half really wanting him not to be.

"And how do you expect that to work, loverboy?" He teased. "We aren't allowed to get married, remember?"

"Well not officially, but that doesn't mean I can't confess my smitten love for you in front of two-hundred people, right?"

Greg didn't say anything, just continued smiling up at his boyfriend...erm, fiance?

"We're looking at an outdoor venue on Wednesday. You're going to love it. Three o'clock."

Greg's smile widened. "You've been thinking about this?"

Liam nodded. "A lot."

It took Greg a moment to regain logical thought. "I have a doctor's appointment at two thirty, remember? You made the appointment. Meet you there afterwards?"

Liam nodded, and Greg's heart swelled with happiness.

Three weeks after his kitchen became a crime scene and Nick's house started to feel like home, Greg was back at work. However, he wasn't clocked in and his flip-flop clad feet shuffled nervously under the table in the breakroom. Generally a person in his place would be waiting in an interrogation room, at the very least somewhere with a police escort. But everyone knew Greg was not a risk, and so Grissom let him sit around the table in the breakroom for the longest twenty minutes of his life. Nick was in the field working a case, though he had desperately wanted to be there for Greg, and Sara, Warrick, and Catherine all periodically peaked their heads inside the door to check on him.

Just before he felt like his head might actually explode, Grissom walked into the room and professionally took a seat opposite Greg, not speaking for a few moments.

"Well?" Greg asked impatiently.

"Brass and I spoke to the DA, we showed him the evidence we collected and presented all other circumstances involving the crimes perpetrated by Liam Harper and Jeremy Brooks."

"And?" Greg hated Grissom's manner sometimes.

"And..." A smirk played on Grissom's lips. Now he was just messing with Greg. "...He agreed it was the clearest case of self-defense he'd even seen."
Greg let out what felt like three weeks worth of stored air and slammed his head into the table dramatically.

"Fuck, Grissom," Was all he could say as Grissom began to chuckle softly. The rest of the team, almost on cue, filtered into the room and congratulated Greg with friendly pats on the shoulder and a few warm hugs.

Relief washed over him.

"So I can come back to work now?" He asked finally.

"Yes," Grissom smiled. "And good thing, because we need someone to go through a dumpster on Tropicana."

Greg couldn't help but smile. Suddenly, dumpster diving sounded like the best idea he'd ever heard.