The little red light on the iron was flashing, telling the two men sitting on the couch that it was hot enough to use. They both saw it, but neither one of them said anything. Greg kept pushing on Nick's wound as the other kept drinking the Bacardi. The bottle had been half full when Greg had handed it to Nick ten minutes ago, and now it was almost gone. The blood hadn't stopped pouring against Greg's hands, continuing to stain Nick's clothes as well as Greg's now. The bleeding and pain hadn't stopped, nor had they spoken.
"I never though I'd be glad that you can drink that much without getting sick," Greg said, more to himself than to Nick.
Nick smiled as he took another drink. "Living in a frat house for four years definitely helped." He guzzled down the last of the bottle in one swing, then looked over at Greg. "Okay, let's do this."
"Can you still feel it?" Greg asked. Nick nodded. "Then maybe we should wait until it's number or something."
Nick shook his head. "It's not going to get number. I know you don't want to do this, but you have to. It's going to work, and it won't hurt that much."
"Yes it will," Greg said. "And you're not just going to lie there and let me burn you with an iron. How am I supposed to hold you down?"
"I'm drunk," Nick said. "And I don't wanna bleed to death, or hurt you, so I'm going to be as still as possible. Besides, you're pretty strong."
Greg scoffed. "I'm not stronger than you, you know that. You've used that to your advantage on countless occassions."
Nick stood, swaying slighting on his unsteady feet. "Like you minded it," he said, his voice slow and heavy. "And once again, I'm drunk. And don't want to have sex with you. At this moment. So can we get this over with please? I would like you to burn me with that iron now."
Greg rolled his eyes as he stood, putting his arm around Nick to give him more balance. They went over to where the ironing board was, where Greg carefully took Nick's shirt off before the injured man layed down on the floor. Greg went back into the kitchen and got the oil that he would need after he burned Nick, then he grabbed the iron and looked over his boyfriend's battered body.There were still marks from the electric shock treatment, not to mention other bruises and cuts scattered all over his chest and abs. Greg swallowed as he lowered himself down so he was straddling Nick's waist. Nick shifted slightly so his arms were behind his back, pinned between him and the floor. Greg pressed Nick's shirt against the wound for a moment before wiping the blood away so he would see where the wound was.
Nick's breathing was slow and deep, but Greg could feel his heart racing against his hand that was resting on his chest. Greg had one hand on the iron and the other holding Nick down. Nick looked up at Greg, his demeanor matching his calm breathing, but his eyes were scared and nervous, like the beating of his heart.
"I trust you," Nick said softly before he closed his eyes and turned his head to the side.
Greg took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He gripped the handle of the iron tightly, making his hand steadier as he slowing lowered the scalding object down. He pressed the top of it to Nick's skin, immediating eliciting a sickening hiss. Nick yelled out in agony, but Greg held it there for a few seconds before pulling it away. Nick squirmend underneath him, but didn't move too much because of the alcohol and lack of room to move. Greg pressed his chest forcefully but carefully and watched Nick suffer as tears stung his eyes.
"Nicky, I have to do it again. It's not closed yet, but it's working. One more time baby and it's over, okay?" Nick nodded, but kept his head turned to the side. He didn't want to see it coming. "Take a couple deep breaths. Just keep breathing," Greg said calmly.
Nick did what Greg said. He breathed in and out several times, expanding his chest out against Greg's open palm. He kept doing so, trying not to think about how long it was going to be before Greg burned him again. It wasn't long. Greg pressed the iron back against the wound, holding it harder this time. The sickening sound returned, as did Nick yelling out in pain. He tried to jerk his shoulder away, but couldn't. Greg counted to ten as he held the iron, but felt so much longer. He finally pulled it off and exmained the wound, smiling when he saw that it was now fully closed and no more blood was pouring from it.
Once he saw that it had worked, Greg threw the iron as far away as he could and leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of Nick's face. He pulled gently, forcing Nick to face his direction. His eyes were still closed tightly, his face in an expression of extreme pain. Greg leaned forward and brushed his lips against Nick's softly.
"It's over sweetie," Greg said as he pulled back and grabbed the bottle of oil. He pulled the cap off and poured half of the contents onto Nick's burned wound. He could tell by the relaxing in Nick's tense muscles that it was soothing the burn.
Nick finally opened his eyes and looked up and Greg. He smiled slightly before weakly saying, "Pour the rest on."
Greg did as Nick requested. He emptied the bottle then slowly got off of Nick and knelt beside him. He helped him sit up, then after a moment helped him get to his feet. Nick leaned against Greg for support because his head was spinning from the pain and blood loss. He rested his head on Greg's shoulder and they just stood there catching their breath.
After a few minutes, Nick moved his head and kissed Greg's neck lightly. "I knew I could trust you," he said queitly.
Greg held Nick against him tightly. "Glad to help," he said before kissing the top of Nick's head. "Do you think you can walk?"
Nick nodded. "Yeah. We need to get the hell out of here."
"I agree, but only if you're sure you can. If you need to rest, rest. There's no hurry."
"Yes there is. I don't want to stay here anymore. I want to go home, with you, and sleep. I want to sleep for a very long time and not be awake anymore."
Greg smiled slightly at Nick's ramblings. "Okay honey, let's go home."
Getting Nick down the stairs was easy than Greg had thought it would be. It had been harder to get Nick's shirt back on, which they had only done because Nick was shivering uncontrolably. It had been from more than just being cold, but it couldn't hurt anymore than it would help. So they made their way down the stairs back to the landing where they had been the first day. They stopped there to rest because Nick thought he was about to collapse.
The Texan took several slow, deep breaths, his eyes locked with Greg's. After he felt better, he looked around him for a way out. He looked to his right, down the hall he knew nothing would come of. He would have looked away took if something hadn't caught his eye. At first he thought his mind was playing tricks on him seeing as how he lost so much blood, but the longer he looked, the more he realized he wasn't imaging it.
"Greg," he said, his voice full of fear. "The door's open."
Greg followed Nick's gaze, his eyes finding the adjacent door on the right. He frowned at first, not recognizing the situation. Then he realized that the door that was open was the door that lead to the room where they had put Lanser. And it was open. That wasn't good.
"That's not good," Greg said. He started to walk towards it when Nick reached out and grabbed him.
"Have you not seen a scary movie before?" Greg frowned at Nick. "Shit like this never ends well. Ever."
Then they heard noise coming from down the hall. Muffled voices and feet shuffling on the dusty floor.
"This isn't a movie Nicky," Greg said as he took Nick's hand and gently pulled him down the hallway.
As they got closer to the door, Greg slowed his pace down, but didn't stop. Nick gripped his hand tightly, in fear and in pain. Greg glanced over at Nick when they where three feet away, and when they looked back they both jumped back in surprise.
"What the fuck man!" Nick yelled. "Are you fucking kidding me? Don't do that!"
"Easy Nicky, it's alright man," Warrick said. "I didn't mean to scare ya. I just heard you guys and went to find you. Are you okay?"
"I feel like I'm about to have a heart attack, but other than that, yeah, we're okay," Nick said breatlessly.
A blonde head popped out of the room behind Warrick, announcing the Catherine. Tears flooded her eyes when she saw Nick and Greg and she immediatly reached out, pulling them both into a tight hug. Nick winced in pain, but didn't try to pull away.
"Thank God you're okay," Catherine said against the two men she was bear hugging. "We were worried sick."
Grissom and Brass appeared behind Catherine, both with relieved smiles on their faces. "We got Lanser," Brass said happily. "Paramedics are outside waiting to check you guys out."
"How did you find us?" Greg asked when Catherine finally released them.
"He left us directions," Warrick answered. "He thought it would have been over by the time we got him."
"It is over," Nick said. "But not the way he thought it would be."
"Did you get shot?" Grissom asked, noticing Nick's shoulder.
Nick nodded. "Yeah. Then we cauterized it to stop the bleeding. I should probably go to the hospital."
"Now you think logically," Greg said.
"Okay, let's get them out of here," Catherine said, taking the lead as everyone followed her down the hall to the very end, past the first set of stairs to the last one on the left that lead up to where sunlight was pouring in. They all went up the stairs into the hot Vegas sun. Nick and Greg had to squint in the sunlight because they hadn't been outside in days. They headed for the ambulance that was parked twenty feet away, but they didn't make it ten feet away from the bunker.
Nick and Greg had only taken three steps. They were fine one minute, then the next they collapsed to the ground ina fit of seizures that shook their body. Everyone stopped and stared, having no idea what to do. The paramedics saw what happened and rushed to them as everyone looked around to try and see what could have caused it.
Lanser looked on from the police cruiser he was handcuffed in the backseat of. He smiled at the confusion before him. The expressions on everyone's faces was enough to make this whole thing worth it. They had no idea what was going on, and he wasn't about to tell anyone.
It looked as though he was going to win after all.