The Vault
Prompt for: Tadaa: How about Greg getting really sick and stuck in a room with only Nick to help with little to none supplies at all for 24 hrs and he gets worse every 30 mins? Ty!
Enjoy!
Greg coughed violently as he stood under the cold water in the lab's showers. He felt like shit and what was worse, he got to pull double duty tonight. He had just got back from dumpster diving with Warrick…well, he had lost rock, paper, scissors so only he went diving. And now he smelled like crap; he wouldn't be surprised if he caught some disease in that dumpster. He was already feeling ill beforehand so he most likely just fed the sickness. Groaning as his muscles ached, Greg closed his eyes and let the water massage his head. He couldn't wait for this day to be over so he could go home and sleep for the next few days. Catherine had asked if he was okay when he came back with Warrick, but he said he was just tired. He didn't want her to think he was weak and being a baby; he was already considered "the baby" of the team and now that he was a CSI, he didn't want to disappoint them.
"Greg!"
The blonde flinched and opened his eyes, a wave of dizziness suddenly hitting him.
"Greg, come on I want to get this over with!"
It was Nick. The Texan hadn't been particularly happy to be working a case tonight, because apparently he was supposed to have a hot date tonight, but Sara called out sick and Grissom needed him to fill in. But the way Nick was acting, Greg wondered if he just wasn't happy to work with him. A rookie, a wannabe, an idiot.
"Be right there!"
"Just hurry up already!"
Greg sighed and shut off the water before wrapping a towel around his waist and stepping out of the shower. He quickly dried off, pulled on a new set of clothes, and took a couple pain pills to hopefully bring down his suddenly rising temperature.
The ride to the crime scene was silent, Nick didn't even put on music, so Greg knew he was pissed. "Are you okay?" He asked when they pulled into the parking lot of the bank.
"No, not really Greg," Nick snapped. "I've worked three weeks straight and today was my only day off. I had plans and now I'm stuck here with you."
Greg frowned and Nick's eyes went wide when he realized what had come out of his mouth.
"Wait, that came out wrong, I-"
"No, I think it came out exactly the way you wanted it to. I didn't know you felt that way, Nick. I thought you were happy that I became a CSI."
"Greg-"
"No it's fine. I know you think that I'm a screw-up and you're probably right." Without another word, the blonde exited the vehicle.
"Greg, wait!" Nick shouted, but the man disappeared and he mentally slapped himself for being so stupid. "Dammit." It wasn't Greg he was pissed at, he was just mad he had to cancel his date and mad that Grissom had called him out of all people. Or why not have Greg go alone? Sure he was a new CSI, but he had confidence the kid could pull a solo. Rubbing his eyes, Nick grabbed his kit and hopped out of the car. He was gonna have to apologize to Greg after this; he felt really bad for making the man think he was a screw-up.
When he got inside, Greg was already in the vault, with Doc Robbins, where the bank manager had been shot multiple times, laying in a pool of blood.
"Greg, what I said in the car…I didn't mean it."
The blonde remained silent, taking pictures of the scene.
"Greg?"
Still silent.
Nick rolled his eyes. He never thought Greg would hold a grudge, but he guessed there was a first for everything. He stepped out of the vault and went to go talk to Brass and the bank tellers. When he returned ten minutes later, Greg was alone. And he looked like shit; there was a thin layer of sweat coating his forehead and his glassy eyes were looking into space.
"Robbins went to go grab something," Greg said quietly when he realized Nick had returned. "But the time of death is thirty-six hours ago."
Nick sighed. Greg was only talking to him about work, but at least he was talking to him. "So he died Friday? How come no one noticed until now?"
"According to the assistant manager, the vault closes automatically every day at 8:30 and doesn't reopen until the next morning and the manager has to open with a code. When it closes for the weekend, it doesn't open until Monday." Greg wiped his forehead then coughed into his arm. The smell of the rotting corpse and the stuffiness of the vault was making him feel worse. Plus this oncoming headache wasn't helping.
"Greg, man, are you feeling alright? You look a little under the weather."
"I'm fine," he snapped.
"You sure as hell don't look it."
He could tell the meds were wearing off already, the aching in his muscles starting to return.
"Greg-"
"I said I was fine! It's not like you care!"
All of a sudden, the vault door slammed closed and they could hear the locks turning. They glanced at each other worriedly before running over and trying to open it.
"Hey! Hello!?" Nick shouted, pounding his fist on the door, even though knowing it would go unheard through the thick metal. "Brass!? Catherine!? Dammit. Greg, you getting any cell service?"
The blonde pulled out his phone and shook his head. "Nothing. Nick…its 8:30."
"What?"
"The door, remember? It closes at 8:30."
The Texan ran his fingers through his hair. "Shit."
~+CSI+~
Greg let out a shaky breath. Only an hour passed since the door closed on them and he was already starting to feel lightheaded and was having a hard time breathing. They had both tried to get a phone signal in different areas of the vault, but once again, no luck. Nick was trying to see if there was a secret button or something to get them out. They had both shed their vests due to the rising temperature in the room and Greg had undone a few buttons, but he still felt like he was suffocating…like he was in an oven. He looked at the dead and body and his stomach rolled; the stench was one-hundred times worse. The room spun and he knew it was only a matter of time before his body gave up on him.
"Fuck," Nick swore. "There's nothing here. What kind of bank vault doesn't have an emergency switch?" When Greg didn't answer, Nick wondered if the kid was still mad at him. He turned around and saw that Greg was swaying on his feet and he looked like death warmed over. His face and clothes were soaked with sweat, not to mention the lack of color in his skin.
"Greg? You feeling okay? And don't say you're fine, because you're not." Before he could step towards the blonde, Greg's knees folded underneath him and he collapsed against the wall, sliding to the floor.
"Greg! Oh my god." He rushed over and fell to his knees next to the man. "Damn, kid you're burning up." Greg's eyes were barely open and his breathing was coming out raspy. "Greg, can you hear me buddy?"
"J-Just a cold," Greg swallowed thickly. He blinked a few times and slowly lifted his head. "D-Don't…worry."
"Greg, this is way more than a cold."
Greg shivered and Nick could feel the man's sweat soaking into his own clothes. The blonde's body abruptly jerked and he leaned forward to expel vomit onto the floor. It seemed like it was going on forever; choking, gagging, coughing and whimpering in pain. Nick just sat there, rubbing Greg's back and coaxing him through it.
"Let it out, bud, just let it out. It'll be over soon."
After five minutes, Greg sagged back against the wall, breathing heavily and his face a shade paler than it was before. Nick was getting worried; Greg was really sick and there wasn't much he could do about it.
"Hang on, G. Let me get some water." The Texan crawled over to his kit and dragged it back over to Greg. He would be damned if he let the kid get dehydrated above all his other problems. He uncapped the bottle and tried to get Greg to drink it, but the blonde listed to the right, his eyes fluttering close. "Greg don't do this." He quickly wrapped his arm around Greg's shoulders and sat him up, holding him tightly. "Come on, Greggo, just take a couple sips."
"T-Tired," Greg replied softly, his eyes remaining shut.
"I know man, but you just lost half your body's water supply. You can't let yourself get dehydrated. You most likely have the flu and not to mention a growing fever."
The younger man moaned but forced his eyes open and looked at Nick tiredly. "Okay."
"Good." The older CSI brought the bottle up to Greg's mouth and helped him take a few sips. When he couldn't drink anymore, Greg weakly turned his head away and Nick put the cover back on before placing it by his side. The blonde panted and let his head fall on Nick's shoulder.
"Are we…are we ever gonna get out of here, Nick?"
"I hope so, bud. You just rest okay. I'll wake you up if anything happens."
"Okay." Greg leaned heavier on the Texan and the older man sighed. He really hoped they would get out of here in time. He didn't know how much longer the kid had. He sat there in thought before deciding to rummage through both of their kits to see if there were any supplies that could help his friend. He grabbed his discarded vest and gently laid the younger man's head down on it. He also took his jacket and draped it over Greg's shivering body. When he was sure the man was somewhat comfortable, he started looking through all three kits. Thank god, Doc had left his in here, maybe there was some strong medication buried deep down. Unfortunately, all he found was a thermometer, another bottle of water, and some cheap off brand Advil that he found in Greg's kit. It would probably only work for a couple hours and he didn't want to give him a lot. He suddenly heard a gasp behind him followed by whimpering.
"Nick? N-Nick!"
"Right here, buddy," the Texan said, sliding back over to the man. "I'm right here, you're okay." He brought the blonde into his grasp, trying to calm him by rubbing his hand up and down Greg's arm.
"Wh-What's going on? Where are we?"
Nick frowned worriedly. "The bank vault remember? We got shut in here."
"Oh…yeah." Greg rubbed his eyes and glanced around. "Find a way for us to get out of here?"
"No and I'm not sure how long we're gonna be stuck in here. The assistant manager said the manager was the only one who could open it. No one else has the code."
"We're gonna d-die in here aren't we."
"Don't think like that, G. We're gonna get out of here, I promise."
Greg quickly leaned forward and threw-up again, it mostly being watery bile. Nick hated the sound, wishing Greg didn't have to be in this pain. He rubbed circles on Greg's back and waited for the heaving to subside.
"God, that b-body…smells so…bad."
"Here," Nick said, pouring three pills into his hand and getting the water bottle when Greg finished. "You need to rehydrate."
Greg nodded without argument and swallowed the pills with the water. After, he laid his head against the wall a closed his eyes, trying to breathe normally. Nick sighed sadly; Greg didn't deserve this.
"Hey…about what I said in the car-"
"I know you didn't mean it, Nick, don't worry. Just…it hurt a lot, coming from you and part of me believed what you were saying, because well…I sort of believed it myself already. I know I'm not a good CSI."
"Greg, stop it. Look at me."
The blonde sluggishly opened his eyes and rolled his head to look at Nick.
"You're a damn good CSI and have so much potential. You're just new and it takes time to gain experience. You don't have to rush into anything."
"You're not just saying that?"
"Of course not, G. I would never lie about that. You're my best friend and I'm proud of you."
A smile broke out on Greg's pale face before his body jerked and he started throwing up again. Nick placed his hand back on the man's shoulder and sighed. "There goes the pills. Want to try again?"
Greg shook his head and stifled a sob. "S-Stomach…h-hurts. Tired."
"Okay. We'll try later, just lay down and relax."
Greg nodded and laid his head back down on Nick's vest. In seconds, he was fast asleep, though Nick was worried about his breathing sounding labored. He pressed his hand on Greg's forehead and then remembered the thermometer. Grabbing it, Nick stuck the device into the younger man's ear.
"Shit."
103.4…103.5…103.8. Greg's temperature was climbing dangerously. He really needed to find a way out so he could get Greg to a hospital. It had only been six hours and he prayed the team was out there and calling someone. Anyone. He wasn't gonna let another person die in here. Wiping the sweat from his own forehead, Nick grabbed his phone and stood up to try and find reception even though it was probably pointless. The battery was almost dead so he had to make this one count. Nick went way into the corner, squishing himself up against the wall by the door. And there was something…one bar…he almost cried in joy. He pressed Catherine's speed dial and laughed in relief when she answered.
"Nicky?! Are…alright?" The line was cutting in and out and cracking, so he needed to be quick.
"I'm fine. Greg's really sick. How long is it gonna take to get us out?"
"We're trying…get the door manufacturer…here, but he's…way in New York. Even when he does get here, it's…be at least eighteen hours before he…cut through it."
"Son of a bitch. Greg doesn't have that much time."
"Just hang on, Nick. We're gonna get you guys out."
"Just hurry, okay?" When Catherine didn't answer, he grew worried. "Cath? Catherine!" His phone beeped and he pulled it from his ear just in time to see it powering down. "Great." Now that was useless. At least he knew the timetable even though eighteen hours was a long wait. Pressing his temples, Nick went to go sit back next to Greg and he closed his own eyes. He was exhausted; a little nap wouldn't hurt. He would wake up in fifteen minutes, check on Greg and then figure out how to keep the kid from getting any worse.
But he didn't wake up fifteen minutes later…
Or thirty…
Or fifty…
Nick jerked awake with a frantic gasp two hours later; he had slept too long. "Greg?" He turned to his right to see that the man was still sleeping…but he wasn't shivering anymore and his face was no longer shining with sweat. "G-Greg?" He grasped the thermometer and stuck it in Greg's ear.
"Oh no. No, no, no, no." 105.1. "Greg!" He shook the man's shoulder roughly, trying to wake him up. "Greg, come on kiddo, wake up! Oh god. Please wake up!" Nick pulled the blonde's body into his lap and held Greg tight before realizing it wouldn't help. Breathing nervously, he started ripping the sleeves off his shirt and soaking the pieces with water. He then placed the wet fabric on Greg's forehead, neck, and on each of his wrists. Hopefully that would cool him down a little. Nick sat back on his heels and let out a gust of air. "Don't die on me, kid. Please."
~+CSI+~
Greg was barely breathing and Nick was becoming terrified. In four hours, his temperature went up to 105.6 and he still wasn't waking up. Every thirty minutes Greg seemed to get worse no matter how many times he re-soaked the fabric. His face was turning red like you'd get from a sunburn and his lips were extremely chapped. Twelve hours had passed and Nick was surprised the kid had made it this long. He was just about to pour more water on the fabric, when Greg's eyes snapped open and his chest heaved in panicked, shallow breaths.
"Shh," Nick said while placing his hand on the man's shoulder. "It's okay, Greg. It's-"
"T-The walls…they're closing in…c-can't breathe. S-So hot." Greg's body started trembling with heart-wracking sobs, though since he was so dehydrated, no tears were falling from his eyes. "I'm burning…the explosion…it hurts."
"Greg, you're okay," Nick soothed and he brought Greg into his arms. The kid was becoming delusional. "It's just the fever, Greggo."
The blonde shivered in Nick's hold, crying uncontrollably. Nick shed his own tears, hating that Greg was this miserable. He ran his fingers through the damp blonde hair, trying to calm him down. "You're gonna be okay, I promise. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you." They sat like that for ten minutes before Greg finally relaxed.
"Greg?" Nick looked down to see that the man wasn't sleeping, but it didn't look like he was lucid either. "Greg." He grabbed the second water bottle and tried to get his friend to drink it. "Come on man, just take a drink." When Greg didn't move, Nick sat him up and poured water in his mouth before plugging his nose so he could swallow.
"Nick?" Greg suddenly rasped.
"Greg," Nick smiled in relief. "Hey buddy."
"Where are we?"
"Still in the vault. The team should be getting us out soon."
"The v-vault?"
"Remember?"
Greg frowned and shook his head. He closed his eyes again and Nick pursed his lips. The fever was jumbling things around in Greg's brain.
"Do you want more water? You should probably try to take a few pills again. You're fever is still pretty high."
"Not…thirsty. S-Stomach…still hurts." His body heaved again and he puked up more watery bile. His body sagged when it ceased and was left breathless.
"Jesus Greg, why didn't you tell us you were sick? You could be home right now," Nick whispered, cupping the blonde's burning neck.
"D-Didn't…want to…dis…appoint you. Didn't want to…be…weak," Greg replied breathlessly.
"Greg, you're not weak. You're strong as hell for still coming to work when feeling like crap. And you could never disappoint me; I'll always be proud of what you've become."
Greg cleared his throat. "T-Thanks Nick."
"You're welcome, buddy. Don't worry, we're gonna get out of here in no time…Greg?" Why wasn't he answering? "Greg?" The man wasn't moving. "Greg." He put the thermometer back in Greg's ear and swore. 106.1. His pulse was weak, but abnormally fast. If he didn't get Greg out soon, his brain was going to fry and he was done for.
Five Hours Later
Catherine and Warrick were inwardly jumping for joy when the door manufacturer had finally cut through the door and five movers pulled it open.
"Nick! Greg!" Catherine shouted. "Ni- oh my god."
"Get the medics!" Nick's voice cracked. "He's not…he just had a seizure and now he's not breathing! Hurry!"
Catherine's heart broke at the sight; the room was stuffy and hot, the kits were dumped of their contents, there was throw-up on the ground and Nick was holding an unmoving, sweat soaked and red faced Greg. Two EMT's rushed past her and started to assess Greg's condition.
"Fever is at 106.6, dilated pupils, we're gonna have to intubate, he's not breathing. Skin is dry and hot, no doubt severely dehydrated, start him on intravenous fluids and we need to get his blood pressure back up."
Warrick helped Nick stand to his feet and kept him steady as they watched Greg gently be moved onto a stretcher and strapped down. They maneuvered and tube down Greg's throat and attached an ambu-bag to the top. Once I.V's were inserted into the younger man's veins, the medics lifted the gurney into a stretcher and pushed it out of the vault. Nick pulled away from Warrick and quickly followed, not wanting to let Greg out of his sight. But when he reached the ambulance, the medics wouldn't let him follow.
"What…p-please, just let me go with him."
"We're sorry sir, there's not enough room. We're taking him to Sand Valley Medical if you want to meet us there." With that, the doors were slammed in Nick's face and the ambulance rushed off into the distance before disappearing around the corner. He watched in shock until a hand touched his shoulder.
"Come on, man," Warrick said. "I'll bring you. We should get you looked at, too."
"N-No…I'm fine. Let's just go." Nick swallowed dryly and briskly walked towards Warrick's Denali. He wasn't losing Greg…not today, not ever.
~+C+~
Nick sat nervously in the ER, biting the inside of his cheek. Warrick had forced him to get checked out and he had been a little dehydrated so the nurse put him on an I.V. drip. That had been two hours ago and he still had no news on Greg.
"Nicky, he's gonna be okay," Catherine said, coming in with a bottle of Gatorade in her hand, passing it to him. "Greg is strong."
The Texan rubbed the back of his head. "But it's been two hours already. What the hell is taking so long?"
"Nick, relax. He was in bad shape; it might take a while for them get him stable again."
Nick huffed and glanced at his watch again. This was ridiculous, he couldn't wait any longer. He started pulling out the I.V. and slid off the bed.
"Nick, where do you think you're going?"
"To find Greg. I'm tired of waiting."
"Nick-"
"Nick Stokes?"
They both turned to see a doctor with graying black hair emerge from behind the curtains.
"Yes?"
"Sorry it's been so long, I'm Dr. Smith, I'm your friend Gregory's attending. You're his emergency contact."
Nick frowned, wondering why Greg's mom wasn't the first one to be called, but he didn't care right now, because he wanted to know Greg's condition more than anything. "Is he okay?"
"He will be. His fever was dangerously high, being at 106.7 when he was brought in. We call it hyperpyrexia. We immediately put him in an ice bath to bring his temperature down to a more manageable level, but it's still high. We've started him on a strong cocktail of intravenous fluids and also have him on a ventilator to help him breathe. He's in a coma-"
Nick's heart sunk. "A coma?"
"Medically induced. It will help him recover faster; we'll wean him out in a few days once his fever is at a more manageable level."
"When can we see him?" Catherine said, resting a hand on Nick's shoulder.
"Well, you can see him through the window, but he's unable to have visitors due to his weakened immune system. Again, once he starts to recover we can lift the restriction. When he does wake up, he'll be very tired for a few days, so we're gonna keep him for observation for a while. I'll have a nurse come get you when Gregory is settled in his room."
"Thank you," the woman said and once the doctor left, Nick exhaled deeply. "You okay?"
Nick shook his head. "He's in a coma, Catherine, and on a vent."
"It's to help him. He's gonna be okay, you just need to believe that."
"I'm trying to believe that, I really am."
Catherine pursed her lips sadly. "You're both gonna get through this. I'm gonna go get you another juice, okay?"
Nick smiled forcefully and nodded. When she disappeared behind the curtains, Nick laid back in the bed and swallowed thickly. They were in a bank vault for only a day and now Greg was in a coma, needing a machine to breathe for him. If only he saw how sick the kid had been before they went to the crime scene, maybe Greg would be at home…safe.
"I'm sorry, man. Please be okay."
An hour later, Nick was discharged and they were able to go see Greg.
"Oh god," Nick whispered when they looked through the window. Greg looked so small…so broken. His face was still pretty chapped and red, but shining with aloe lotion. His lips were parted slightly where the breathing tube was sticking out and connected to a ventilator. Various wires protruded in and out of his body and his heart was beating slow but steady.
A single tear slipped from Nick's eye, his heart aching at the sight of his best friend hurting like this…and he couldn't even go sit with him yet. It was killing him. Wiping his face, he turned and left without a word. He needed air.
28 Hours Later
"Alright," Dr. Smith said. "One person at a time and only for ten minutes, because his fever is still too high. You will need to wash your hands up to your elbows before entering as well; his immune system is starting to get stronger, but we can't risk anything."
Nick nodded before he stepped into the sterilization room and scrubbed his hands red. He wasn't about to make his little brother sicker than he already was. The nurses pulled a gown around his clothes while Nick put on gloves.
"Ready?" She asked.
Nick exhaled. "Yeah."
The door slid open and the Texan stepped into the quiet room. "Oh Greg." He walked over and sat down, gently taking Greg's hand in his. "I'm sorry this happened, man." He stared at the breathing tube and shuddered. Greg's temperature was down to 102° so Nick knew the kid was slowly getting better, but he wanted him to be awake, joking around, being Greg. "Hey buddy, I don't know if you can hear me, but I'm proud of you. If anyone can pull through this, it's you. Don't give up now, alright. When you get better, I promise I'll be more supportive it's just…I'm not used to you being out in the field where it's…dangerous. I'm terrified that you're gonna get hurt and that I won't be there to protect you. You're like a brother to me, Greg, I can't lose you." He squeezed the blonde's hand and brushed back a few sweaty strands. Nick sat there silently for a few more minutes before he got up and left the room. It was gonna be a long couple of days; he had been awake for nearly two days straight and he was exhausted, but he wasn't going to leave the hospital until Greg woke up. No way in hell.
~+CSI+~
"N-Nick?"
The Texan's head shot up from his hands when he heard the weak, yet familiar voice. They had taken him out of the coma and removed the ventilator yesterday when his fever finally broke, lowering to a safe 98.8°. He started sweating again until his face regained its normal skin color, the redness fading away. The nurses replaced the sheets and upped the fluids, so now he was doing a lot better.
"Greg!" Nick grinned. The blonde was awake, barely, staring at him with dull blue eyes. "Thank God you're alright." He cupped the man's neck and squeezed it a little.
Greg smiled tiredly and swallowed. "Where am I?"
"The hospital. You've been here for a few days. Do you remember anything?"
"Kind of…some of its…hazy."
"Yeah…the fever was pretty bad. I'm just happy you're okay. You really scared me. I thought you…I thought I lost you."
Greg turned his palm upwards on the bed and Nick immediately held it. It was no longer cold and clammy, thank god.
"I'm okay now. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."
"You better not. I don't think my old heart can take it."
Greg rolled his eyes and chuckled. "How old are you, exactly?"
"Dude, I'm not telling you that," Nick snorted.
"It's okay…I can always look you up in the database."
"Stalker much?"
Greg grinned before yawning, letting his head roll to the side. He suddenly frowned. "Are you okay?"
Nick smirked. "I'm fine…though I do have one question. Why am I the first person on your emergency contacts…why not your mom?"
The smile faded from Greg's face and his eyes looked down.
Nick grew concerned. "Greg."
"I…I still haven't told my mom that I started working in the field."
Nick's eyes widened. "You haven't told her you're a CSI? Greg, what if you were hurt worse? We wouldn't know who to contact! Why haven't you told her?"
"My mom got stuck with only me when she really wanted a lot of kids…so she kept me close. Super overprotective; if I got a nosebleed, she'd rush me to the ER. She wouldn't let me play any sports. I'm afraid that…that if I tell her, she's going to freak out and do something dramatic…like force me to go back into the lab…or to quit."
"She wouldn't do that."
Greg scoffed. "You don't know my mom, Nick."
The Texan pressed his lips together. "Greg, just tell her. She's going to find out eventually. Who knows, maybe you can talk some sense into her…that you really love your job and that you're good at it. Plus you can tell her that you have a big brother protecting you."
The blonde grinned. "Yeah, once I tell her that, she'll be pestering you to make sure I'm okay twenty-four seven."
"I'll make a deal with her. Like call her every last day of the month to fill her in. You should call her too, she's your mom and probably misses you."
"Yeah…I know."
Nick squeezed Greg's arm. "Why don't you get some rest, you still look like crap."
"Gee thanks," the blonde said, closing his eyes.
Nick laughed, stroking back Greg's hair. "You're welcome little bro."
"Don't…touch…my hair…again," Greg replied sleepily.
Nick smirked while standing up. Typical Greg. "Go to sleep man. I'm gonna go tell the others you're okay. And hey."
Greg peeled his eyes back open and waited for Nick to continue.
"You're gonna be an awesome CSI, Greggo, don't forget that."
Greg smiled and let his eyes shut. He could finally believe that now.
FIN
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