Family Affairs

Prompt For: Marymel: Set in the season ten premiere where the Russian mob shoots up the lab and steals the body Greg brought back from his crime scene

Enjoy!

Greg stood alone in autopsy looking down at the body of the John Doe he got from the fleabag motel. The guy smelled horrible, and it wasn't just from being dead. He wasn't happy that Catherine sent him there in the first place, because he would rather be working the case with the famous actress, Olivia, but hey, it was the job…unfortunately. Sighing, he pulled out his camera and started taking pictures of the horrible injuries the man received. It looked like he had been beaten to death, but he wouldn't know until Doc Robbins came back from upstairs. He glanced at his watch and frowned; that should've been ten minutes ago. Maybe he was caught up in something. Greg brushed it off and continued to retrieve evidence from the body when all of a sudden the doors slammed open and five men with guns stormed into the room. Greg jumped, dropping the camera on the ground, his heart racing.

"Who are you?" He said immediately, reaching for his gun but then realizing he left it up in his locker. Stupid!

"That's for us to know and for you to never find out. Now leave so we can steal a body in peace."

Greg frowned and moved in front of the table, blocking the men from stealing the John Doe…however it was weird they were stealing his instead of Olivia's.

"Move kid," one of the men growled, raising his gun. "We're giving you a chance to live here."

As much as Greg wanted to move, he couldn't let these guys take evidence. His subconscious was yelling at him to get out of the way, but there had to be a reason they wanted the body and he wasn't gonna let that happen. "No. I'm not gonna let you get away with this." They had to have come from the front entrance, so he didn't even want to think about the disaster upstairs.

"And you're gonna stop us? You're a pathetic, scrawny weakling. Now move or you die."

Greg breathed heavily and apparently he took too long to decide, because one of the men in the back raised his gun swiftly and fired his gun twice, striking Greg once in the abdomen and once in the chest. He choked, sinking to the floor and on his side gasping in pain. While three guys went for the body, the other two began brutally kicking Greg in the stomach.

"You should've listened kid. We gave you a chance and you blew it. You're gonna die."

Greg grunted, white hot pain shooting throughout his body. He tried to crawl away, but one foot kicked him in the side of head, knocking him out instantly. He must've only been unconscious for a few seconds, because when he came to, he could see the blurry figures of the shooters leaving autopsy. He was fading in and out and his body screamed in agony. Every movement made him whimper; those guys were right. He was weak. Nick has gotten shot a few times and he probably pushed through the pain. He, on the other hand, was about ready to puke. He had to get help; he couldn't bleed to death…especially in autopsy. Arching his neck, Greg squinted through his tunneling vision to see the phone on the desk…it seemed so far away. But he had to try. With a strangled wheeze, he dragged himself across the floor. The blood gushed out of his wounds, his shirt soaked and streaking the tiles with red. It felt like he had gone miles before getting to the desk; Greg reached up, his fingers grazing the receiver.

Come on. Come on.

Just when he was about to give up, Greg finally knocked the whole thing to the floor. He grabbed the receiver and shakily dialed Catherine's number. It rang and rang and rang, but there was no answer. Stifling a sob, he blinked away unconsciousness; he was starting to feel cold. Like all his body's blood supply was almost completely drained. He knew he was lying a pool of his own blood…he knew he was going to die in a few minutes…but he had to try one last time. His chest felt heavy and a metallic taste appeared in his mouth; Greg coughed and saw the blood splatter onto the floor. Maybe he was gonna die in less than three minutes. Peering at the numbers on the keys, the blonde dialed Sara's phone number, praying that she would answer. He had to force his eyes to stay open, because once they closed, he would be done for. Greg was just about to give up hope when they line finally clicked, indicating that someone had picked up.

"Hello?"
Thank god. Now he just needed to find his voice. He breathed heavily, willing his mouth to say something.

"Okay, listen pervert-"

"N-No…Sara…G-Greg."

"Greg? Greg, are you okay?"

Death's cold hands were dragging him down and his grip on the phone weakened. He just needed to get out one more word. "H-Help." And he passed out just as Doc Robbins stepped into the room.

Sara had answered the phone only to hear someone breathing raggedly on the other end. She scoffed in disgust and was starting to tell the sicko when they spoke up. It was Greg…and he sounded horrible.

"H-Help."

"Greg?" Why wasn't he answering her? "Greg!"

"Sara?"

"Doc? What's going on? Where are you? Where's Greg?"

Robbins had come into autopsy to see which body the Russian mob had stolen when he came across a huge trail of blood…with Greg at the other end, unmoving. He knelt down and felt for a pulse; it was extremely weak and if they didn't get Greg to a hospital in the next seven minutes, he might not make it. His face was already a transparent gray and lips a shade of blue.

"I'm in autopsy; you might want to get down here, Sara. And bring the paramedics…fast." Robbins hung up before Sara could respond; he had to put pressure on Greg's wound…shit there were two of them? "Dammit, Greg. Just hang on. Don't give up on me."

Sara was petrified; something bad had occurred down in autopsy and she was sure Greg was hurt. Then she remembered that the blonde had been downstairs with the body he got from his crime scene…where the mob had gone down. Crap.

"Sara," Nick came up behind her along with Catherine. They looked frenzied after what just happened in the lab and they were determined to figure out what the mob wanted with a body, which was no doubt Olivia's. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Get the paramedics," Sara replied quietly.

Nick frowned. "What?"

"It's Greg."

She didn't need to say anymore, because Nick paled drastically. Minutes later, they were all running down to autopsy and when Nick saw the sight before him, his legs nearly collapsed beneath him.

"Greg! Oh god." Greg was as white as a sheet, motionless and lying on an autopsy slab, blood soaking his shirt. "No, please, this can't be happening," he choked. The kid looked…dead.

"Nick, calm down!" Robbins said. "I just moved him up here, he's still alive." Although he didn't want to say he wouldn't be for long. He had managed to rouse Greg long enough for him to help him onto table so he could tend to the injuries until the medics got there.

"Fuck." Nick washed a hand over his face. He was about to go over to the kid when paramedics burst through the door, pushing past him and to Greg. They immediately started assessing him and said the words that no one wanted to hear.

"No pulse!"

"Shit," Nick and Sara breathed. They all watched in horror as a tube was shoved down Greg's throat and moved to a stretcher. They applied pressure bandages to the wounds to hopefully staunch the bleeding until they reached the hospital.

"Starting CPR," one of the medics said, straddling Greg's hips and pressing down on his chest. "We'll shock his heart in the vehicle. Once set, they ran towards the door and out the backway towards the ambulance. They couldn't afford to waste any time. Greg's life was literally hanging by a thread. Nick was about to follow, but Catherine held him back.

"I need to go with him, Cath," he choked. "Please."

"We'll follow in the car," she replied. "They need as much room in the back as they can." However, the real reason was because if Greg ended up…dying, it wasn't something the Texan needed to see. It would be forever burned into his memory and he would never be the same.

Nick sighed heavily and nodded as they all rushed to their Denali's and drove behind the ambulance. They all wanted to know what was going on inside the vehicle before them, praying that the next time they saw Greg, he wouldn't be lying in the hospital morgue.

~+CSI+~

Nick paced in the waiting room; he couldn't sit…he wouldn't sit. His best friend was behind doors and underneath a scalpel and he wouldn't even know if the kid would live. He was shot in the chest for god sakes…rarely anyone survived that. He glanced up at the wall clock and groaned. Two hours. He couldn't believe that much time passed by already. Fuck, what's happening back there?

Everyone was facing their demons, but none more than Catherine. Sure, it was the job and she could've sent anyone to the crime scene at the hotel…she could've put anyone on that case, but she chose Greg. The woman bowed her head, resting it on her fists, letting a few tears slip down her cheeks. All that blood…it made her sick. You better fight through this kiddo. We can't lose you. Another hour passed before a doctor finally came into the room.

"Family of Greg Sanders?" The man, Dr. Baton, spoke.

Nick's head snapped up. "That's us. Greg's okay, right? Please tell me he's okay."

The doctor gave him a grim smile. "I think its best that we talk-"

"No," Nick grunted. "Tell me. Is he…"

"He's not dead. Greg is in a very deep coma and it's possible that he won't wake up or even worse, he may not make it."

Nick's heart dropped to the floor. "W-What are you talking about?"

"The first bullet perforated the stomach causing sepsis. Now that wouldn't be too much of a problem if he wasn't shot in the chest where the bullet just barely grazed the heart. His body is extremely weak and vulnerable. His heartrate and blood pressure are very low and the infection from the sepsis isn't helping. His immune system is going into overdrive trying to fix three serious things at once. He's not strong enough to fight on his own so we've put him on life support. Unfortunately, it looks like he signed a DNR awhile back, so we can only keep him on it for so long."

Nick shuddered. "Oh god."

"I can let you see him, but you'll need to be sterilized, wear scrubs, gloves and a mask. We can't have anything else attacking his body; I think it would be best to talk to him and say what you want to say in case things take a turn for the worse after we shut things down.

Nick shook his head in disbelief. They were being told to say their goodbyes to Greg. This was a fucking nightmare. The kid didn't deserve this.

"How long do you think he has?" Catherine asked numbly.

"It really depends on him. I can let you sit with him until you want to take him off life support and we can see where it goes from there."

Nick wiped his face; he couldn't do this. Without another word, he briskly walked out of the room, not sure where he was going but knowing he needed to get some air before he punched something…or someone.

Sara sighed. "I'll go talk to him."

The doctor felt bad. It was always hard to hear that a loved one might die. "Would you like to see him now or wait for the others?"

"They might be awhile," Langston said. "We'll go first."

"Alright, follow me."

The two were sterilized and they changed into scrubs. Once they got their gloves and masks on, they were let into the quiet room.

"Greg." Catherine's heart sunk as she walked over to the younger man. He looked so small next to all the machines…in fact, it didn't even look like Greg. His face was void of all color, his hair was flat and he was completely still. Sitting down on the bed next to him, Catherine took his cold, lifeless hand in hers. "Greg, sweetie. I'm so sorry this happened." People may tell her otherwise…that she couldn't have known this was going to happen, but no matter what, she'd feel guilty. That this was all her fault. She stroked back his bangs. "We love you so much. You're an amazing CSI and person and we can't lose you. Nick can't lose you. He loves you like a brother and this is killing him. It's killing all of us." She squeezed his fingers, watching his chest rise and fall weakly. This sucked.

Outside, Nick was sitting on a bench, trying to compose himself. Why did this have to happen to you Greggo? You're my little brother…and I failed at protecting you.

"Nick?"

He looked up to see Sara walking toward him.

"Sorry I walked out like that…I just couldn't do it."

"I understand," the brunette said, sitting down next to him. "Greg's gonna be okay, you know that right?"

"I'm trying to believe that, Sara, I really am but…you heard what the doctor said. Once they take him off life support…" he didn't even want to think about it. "And why the hell did he have a DNR? That's not something Greggo would do."

"Maybe he has a reason, but until then, we go in there and make him fight. You guys are like brothers and when he hears you, he'll know that he needs to come back to us. He's not gonna die, Nick, he's too stubborn for that."

The Texan wiped his eyes and took in a shaky breath. "You're right." Why he had a moment of doubt, he had no idea. Greg was stronger than he looked and would never give up this quickly.

"Come on, let's go see him." Sara got up and held out her hand for the man to take it. The Texan hesitated and then grasped it, pulling himself up with a weak smile. They walked to Greg's room and saw Catherine and Langston still inside. They got cleaned up and stepped into the room.

"Hey Nicky," Catherine smiled sadly. "How're you doing?"

He just shrugged, unable to keep his eyes off his best friend…his unmoving best friend. Swallowing thickly, he walked past the others and sat down in the chair next to the kid's bed.

"Jesus kiddo, what did you get yourself into?"

Nick refused to say his goodbyes to Greg. He refused to believe that the man was going to die when they took him off the life support machines. But that didn't stop him from being petrified when they all stood around him as the doctor began shutting off the machines. He was trying to hold himself together as hard as it was. Sara was crying with Catherine and Ray was silently praying. Nick closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Please Greg…don't leave me buddy.

"Alright, here we go," Dr. Raton said. The last machine was off and Greg's heart got slower and slower with each passing second. Nick shivered, not liking how this was going.

"Greg," he choked going next to the kid, taking his hand. "You can't leave us…you can't leave me. We're brothers. You're my little brother and I'm supposed to protect you. I told you that you have to fight no matter what. I already lost one family member last year and I can't go through it again. I need you, buddy. I know I haven't been a good brother after Warrick, that I distanced myself, but that's gonna change, I promise. We'll go to baseball games, eat chicken wings until we puke and just hang out like we used to. Please, G."

And then that flat tone buzzed in everyone's ears. Nick stood there, frozen and speechless. "No."

The doctor stayed back as Nick began crying into his dead friend's shoulder. "I'm truly sor-"

Beep, Beep. Beep. Beep.

Nick gasped in surprise, sitting up and staring at the monitor. "Greg?"

Dr. Raton came over with a frown on his face, pressing a stethoscope to Greg's chest. "I don't believe it. He's coming back."

Nick smiled in relief and laughed. "I knew you could do it, bud. I knew you could hear me."

The others cheered, hugging each other and crying with joy. Greg was going to make it.

Five Days Later

Nick was sitting in Greg's new, smaller room reading the newspaper while his friend slept. They kept Greg in a medically induced coma for the past three days so he could heal without any interruptions, but they took him off the medication this morning and it was just the waiting game now. Greg looked a little better than he had earlier, yet still deathly pale. Nick didn't care though, he was just happy his little brother was alive.

"Ni-Nick?"

The Texan lifted his head and smiled when he saw Greg's dark brown eyes staring back at him.

"Hey buddy," he said softly. "Welcome back."

Greg frowned. "What…h-happened?" Everything after Warrick being murdered and Grissom leaving was a blank. "How did I end up in the hospital?"

"What do you remember?"

The younger man creased his forehead in thought. "G-Grissom just left…I think?"

Shit. Greg lost nearly a month of his memory. "Well, it's been a while since then. You were shot twice when the mob came into the lab to steal a body."

Greg stared at him in fear. "W-Why can't I remember?"

Nick sighed. "You were put on life support until the doctor said you signed a DNR…Greg why would you do something like that. I really thought I was going to lose you. Your…your heart stopped and…"

Greg pursed his lips. "Because I…I don't want to be hooked up to machines for the rest of my life, Nick. I guess I was really lucky this time, but what if there's a next time and I'm brain dead or something. I watched my Nana Olaf go through that; she was in pain, miserable, being poked and prodded with needles all the time. That's not how I want to die."

Nick swallowed and nodded. "I guess I can understand that. But why didn't you tell me or anyone else about it?"

"To be honest, I actually forgot about it until now. I'm sorry."

"It's alright, G," Nick grinned, squeezing the younger man's arm. "All that matters, now, is that you're okay."

The blonde smiled weakly and sagged into the pillows. "Where are the others?"

"Getting something to eat. You've been in a medically induced in coma for four days."

"Damn." Greg looked at Nick. He looked like shit. "Have you…been sitting here the whole time?"

"You're my best friend, Greg. I'll be by your side no matter what. I don't know what I would do if…you know. After Warrick was murdered, I forgot that he wasn't just my friend, he was yours too and you never got a chance to grieve. I pushed you away and even though I did, you still tried to make me feel better. I've been a horrible friend and brother since then and watching you die made me realize not to take things for granted. I'm sorry."

Greg gave the Texan a small smile and placed his hand on top of his. "It's okay, Nick, I forgive you."

Nick let out a deep sigh and grinned before bringing the blonde into a gentle hug. "I'm so glad you're okay, buddy."

"Don't worry," Greg replied into Nick's shoulder. "I'm not gonna go anywhere. Who would be there to gloat in your face when the Vikings lose?"

Nick rolled his eyes and pulled away, ruffling Greg's hair. "Yeah, that'll be the day."

FIN

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