Collateral Damage
Prompt for: Marymel: I was watching A Bullet Runs Through It from season six, and I remember that Grissom assigned Greg to collect bullets from the shooting. What if a shooter came back and kidnapped or shot Greg?
Sorry for the long wait! Hope people are still reading!
Greg was not amused to be marking a miles worth of cartridge cases while everyone else was doing something more entertaining. Not that dead officers, innocent victims and two officer's lives being on the line, one being literally and being a career, was entertaining. Maybe he would rather be answering phone calls all day. Groaning, inwardly, he looked back at the officers sitting in their nice air-conditioned car before marking another stray bullet casing. He really prayed he was getting overtime for this…and that no one else had gone home, because this wasn't fair that he had to do this all on his own. Sure, he was glad to be a CSI now, but he wished that Grissom would give him more responsibility instead of doing something that any lab tech could do. He was still being treated like the baby on the team and he hated it. When would he be treated normally? When would he be treated like an actual CSI? Greg squatted by another casing and placed a mark next to it. Suddenly, something shiny and silver caught his attention and Greg stood up, ducked under the crime scene tape and walked into the thin alleyway where a hub cap was lying in some bags of trash. Frowning, he picked it up to inspect it and realized that it was from a Buick…like the one that the cops were chasing earlier. After taking a quick picture to document it, he was about to go bring it back out to his Denali for evidence, when something hard struck him over the head. Greg grunted in pain, the hubcap slipping from his fingers and his world going black for a minute. By the time he came to, very hazily he might add, his hands were being bound and a piece of duct tape was plastered against his lips. A blurry figure stood over him, an angry look on his face, before he was thrown into the back of a car. He tried to shout, but he knew no one would hear him. The trunk cover was slammed shut and soon after, he could hear the motor running and the scent of carbon monoxide filled his nose. Coughing, Greg tried to stay awake, but the pounding in his head made it impossible. Wow, barely a year on the job and he already screwed up. Maybe he wasn't meant to be a CSI after all.
Barely ten minutes later, Grissom showed up to check on how Greg was doing. He felt bad that the kid was doing this huge job on his own when he knew he'd rather be helping Nick or Warrick with one of the bigger crime scenes, but the job sucked sometimes and Greg was gonna have to deal with it. However, he found it odd that the blonde was nowhere to be seen, his kit innocently sitting in the middle of the road where the last mark had been placed.
"Greg?" Maybe he saw something off to the side and decided to go look, but as he got closer, he realized Greg wasn't there. Trying not to become worried and think of an explanation as to why Greg wasn't at his post, Grissom briskly walked back towards the police cars and knocked on the window.
"Where's Greg?" He said, when the door opened.
The officer frowned. "He's right over-" But when he didn't see the kid, he knew they fucked up. "I swear, he was right there two minutes ago."
Grissom growled angrily and walked back over to Greg's kit, shouting his name. "Greg!"
The officers ran up, helping him search. The CSI ran his hand through his hair, knowing-as much as he didn't want to think about it- that something bad might've happened to the youngest of their team. No one was going to be happy about this…especially Nick.
"Grissom!"
The man spun around and saw one of the officers in the alleyway that wasn't far from where Greg had been last. Ducking under the tape, Grissom's heart dropped at what he saw laying in the trash bags. The standard CSI issued camera and a clipboard with the documented casings. On the paper was a couple splatters of blood and Grissom knew they were most likely Greg's.
"Shit. Call Brass."
"Yes sir."
Gil pulled out his phone and reluctantly dialed Sara's number. They needed all hands on deck here. He didn't want to pass off this huge case to the day shift, but Greg's life was on the line and they needed to find him before it was too late.
Sara stopped what she was doing and pulled her phone out of her back pocket when she heard it ring. When she realized it was Grissom, the brunette rolled his eyes.
"No, Grissom we're not even close to finishing yet," she spoke, knowing that was going to be the first question that was going to come out of her supervisor's mouth. But when Grissom spoke, she knew something was wrong. He sounded more serious than he had been all day…if not serious, worried. He hung up before she had a chance to ask what was going on and she stared at her open phone, confused.
"What did Gris want?" Nick said, standing up from his crouched position.
"He said he wants us all to meet him ten blocks down the road."
Nick sighed, writing something down in his logbook. "Isn't that where Greg's supposed to be? Why doesn't he just bother him?"
"I don't know, but it sounded urgent."
Nick looked up, seeing the worry in Sara's eyes. "Alright, we'll pick 'Rick up on the way."
When all three of them got there, they were surprised to see a few more cop cars and officers searching the area. Grissom was standing in the middle the road next to, what looked like, a kit. What- or more like who- they didn't see was Greg; however, he could be on the next block by now.
"What's going on, Gris?" Nick said as they approached him. "Find something big?"
"We have another crime scene," he replied, gesturing for them to follow him towards the alley.
"How come Greg's not doing it?" Warrick said. "Isn't he supposed to be over here?"
When Grissom stopped, though, he pointed to the camera and clipboard and it seemed to hit them all at once.
"Grissom, where's Greg?" Nick questioned in a shaky breath.
"I don't know. He's missing."
"D-Did he wander off or something?" Nick continued, though he knew Greg would never be that stupid.
Grissom shook his head, showing him the blood on the clipboard's paper.
"He was…" Sara swallowed. "He was kidnapped?"
Grissom confirmed with a brief nod and Sara rubbed her forehead with a quiet swear as did Warrick. Nick on the other hand felt like ice cold water was being poured into his veins. His fingers felt numb and his heart pounded against his chest.
"Oh god."
Grissom knew this was hitting hard for them, but they had a job to do. "I know this is difficult, but I'm giving the shootout over to the dayshift so we can focus on this. Warrick and Sara, there's a hubcap over there and some tire marks leading down that alley. I want you to gather evidence and then help the other CSI's see if there is anything further down. Nick, I want you to get Greg's camera and clipboard, dust for prints and then bring them back to the lab. Tell Catherine and Ecklie what's going on and also get Archie to find traffic cams around the area."
They all nodded solemnly. "Where gonna get him back," Grissom added, directing it more towards Nick.
The Texan nodded and pursed his lips, staring at the blood on the clipboard. Greg's blood. How could this fucking happen? The cops were supposed to be watching him, protecting him and now…now he could be hurt. And the fact that the last thing he said to the kid was "you'll be alright" made him feeling guiltier. He had been wrong. He lied to Greg, because killers always went straight for the innocent, unsuspecting kid. Greg never hurt anyone, so why was he always the one to get targeted? Nick blinked the oncoming tears away and took a deep breath; this wasn't going to help Greg. He had to get to work. He prayed that they would get the man back alive. God, he prayed.
~+CSI+~
They found nothing else at the crime scene, so there wasn't really much to go on. There also hadn't been many traffic cameras, so there was no way of knowing the plate of the car or which way it had gone. Nick was trying to keep his mind focused on the case, but he couldn't; all he could think about was Greg and what was happening to him. The poor kid must be so scared right now. The Texan placed his forehead on his locker, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. Greg was a strong guy, but he was just a rookie. He had only been on the team for a year and a half now and he wasn't prepared for this. He was prepared for the sick bastards who felt like hurting officers or CSI's to get what they wanted or simply just to get revenge. This was his fault; he should've been protecting the kid; he should've offered to go help him.
"Hey Nick?"
The Texan looked up and saw Catherine in the doorway. She had been devastated when he gave her the news, but also pissed. No one hurt their family and got away with it.
"Yeah?"
"We got something."
Nick was about to stand up with excitement that maybe they got a lead, but Catherine looked scared…sad. "Something as in…"
"A ransom video."
"Jesus. Have you watched it yet?"
"No, it's most likely a live feed. We haven't clicked on the link yet. We were looking for you."
Nick took a deep breath and stood up. He had to be strong…for Greg. "Okay. Let's go."
He followed the blonde towards the computer room, finding the rest of the team waiting for them. The second the video was opened, they all gasped. The video had poor quality, but they could see the person sitting in the chair clearly. It was Greg…and he looked horrible. He was bound to a chair, duct tape covering his mouth, blood running down his face and looking like he was barely conscious.
"Poor kid," Warrick said.
Nick was pissed. This shouldn't be happening. First he was going beat the officers who were supposed to be protecting the blonde and then when he found who did this, he was going to kill them, too. Someone stood behind Greg, placing a gloved hand on the kid's shoulder, but his head was cut off and they knew that it was probably meant to be.
"Bet you're all wondering who I am, right?" The person began, his voice altered. "Why I took your CSI? You shot someone I love and because of you dumb pigs, I might lose him. So now I'm gonna put your CSI on the brink of death…or maybe even kill him. I demand ten thousand dollars and every hour that I don't get it, I will stab him…starting now."
Before they all had a chance to react, a knife appeared in the camera and immediately planted itself inside Greg's shoulder. Greg's shout came out muffled, tears trailing down his cheeks and his chest heaving.
"No!" Nick shouted, breathing angrily.
The kidnapper held up piece of paper with a long number written on it. "I want the money in my account by the end of the day or you'll never see your CSI again. If I don't see the money in there within the next hour, I'll turn the camera back on so you can watch him suffer." The screen went blank right after and the team was left silent.
"What are we gonna do?" Sara said. "Where are we supposed to get ten grand from?"
"I'll go talk Ecklie and see what he can do."
"You know damn well that ass won't negotiate with a criminal even if someone's life was on the line," Nick said heatedly.
"I'll get him to. Meanwhile, you and Sara find Archie and see if he can trace the location of the feed. Catherine, go see how far Mandy has gotten with the evidence and Warrick, you and I are gonna figure out who this guy is."
They all went their separate ways, but Nick didn't leave right away. He stared at the blank computer screen…though it wasn't blank to him. All he could see was Greg, looking terrified and in pain. He would never be able to get that image out of his head…and he would never be able to forgive himself if something bad happened to the kid.
"Nick?"
He turned around and saw Sara standing in the doorway, arms crossed and a sad smile on her face.
"Are you coming?"
"Yeah, I'm sorry I just…" He shook his head and sat on a stool. "These couple of days have been hell and now this. What if we can't get the money in time…or at all? Ever since I was buried alive, Greg's been there for me, you know? And he's just a kid, he's only been on the team for barely two years and he was so excited for becoming a CSI. He's my best friend…he's like a brother to me and if we lose him-"
"We're not going to lose him, Nick. Believe that. Greg is strong and we're gonna catch the bastard before he hurts Greg anymore," Sara replied softly, placing a hand on Nick's shoulder.
"Yeah."
"Now come on, let's see if we can track where the video was coming from."
The Texan nodded and stood up, walking side by side with the brunette. She was right; he had to stay positive. For Greg's sake.
~+C+~
An hour passed and Archie was still trying to trace the video feed, Warrick and Grissom had combed over the victims of the shooting, there being three, but they all had family members and they still had a lot of narrowing down to do. Unfortunately, there were no prints at the scene to compare them to, so it was more difficult then they wanted it to be. But right now, the team was in the computer room again, the camera flicking on. Without words, the knife plunged into Greg's side. His eyes went wide in surprise before they slowly started to close. Sara held Nick's hand tightly, knowing he was having a hard time keeping things together. The kidnapper suddenly grabbed Greg's hair, yanking his head back and pressing the bloody knife to his neck.
"Tick tock, CSI's, I still haven't seen the money and your friend here isn't doing so well. He's lost a lot of blood. You better hurry." The camera shut off once again and the team quickly went back to work. However, they were no closer than they had been before and Ecklie said the department didn't have that kind of money, especially to negotiate with a criminal. So as each hour went by, there was a new stab wound in Greg's body. His entire shirt was covered in crimson red blood and he looked weaker…he was dying.
Nick wiped his eyes, standing over Archie as he typed away. Four…that's how many times Greg had been stabbed and the look of that blood soaking up his shirt meant that he didn't have a lot of time. "Have you got anything yet?" He asked.
"The signals are bouncing all over the place, Nick, I- hold on."
The Texan perked up. "What?"
"I think…yes, I have something. The signal is coming from a neighborhood downtown. If I could just triangulate it to one place…there it is! 939 Murray road."
"That's near where the car chase was," Nick frowned. "Thanks Archie." He briskly left the room to tell the others and not long after were they on the road towards Greg, the paramedics driving right behind them. Nick was anxious- everyone was anxious- hoping that when they found the blonde, he was still alive. When they burst into the broken down house, they all spread out, shouting Greg's name.
"Greggo!" Nick yelled, pointing his gun in the empty rooms. "Greg! Can you hear me?"
"Nick!" Warrick barked. "Down here! Get the medics!"
Nick scrambled towards the man's voice, down to the basement where a laptop was sitting on a chair…opposite of Greg's unmoving body. "Oh my god." He ran over, his heart beating frantically. "Is he…"
"Barely. His pulse is extremely weak. I'll start untying him." Warrick gently removed the tape from Greg's mouth before going behind him to untie the ropes.
Nick was about ready to be sick. Greg was barely breathing; he was leaning forward against the binds, his chin touching his chest and blood dripping out of his mouth. "Greg?" The Texan cupped Greg's graying face. It was cold. He lifted it up, trying to get some reaction. "Greg, man can you hear me?" When he didn't get a response, Nick began to panic. "Come on, buddy." God, there was so much blood. When Warrick finished loosening the ropes, Greg's body fell into Nick's arms and he was carefully lowered down to the floor. The medics finally came bounding down the stairs; they all watched in fear as Greg was loaded onto the stretcher and carried upstairs before being pushed into the back of the ambulance.
"I'm going with him," Nick said without hesitating. He was not letting this kid out of his sight again. While the paramedics started patching Greg up and poking needles into his skin, Nick cautiously grabbed the blonde's freezing cold hand and watched him breathe with the help of an oxygen mask.
"I'm so sorry man. I never should've let this happen to you. I'm supposed to be protecting you but…did a pretty bang up job there, did I." He looked up at one of the medics named Ron. "Is he going to be okay?"
"Not sure, he's lost a lot of blood and his fever is pretty high most likely due to infections. It also depends on what got punctured. It's gonna be touch and go for a while."
Nick pressed his lips together and tightened his grip around Greg's hand. "You're gonna make it through this buddy. Please, just make it through this. Please be okay." Suddenly, the monitors started beeping and everyone became alert.
"What's happening?" He looked down at his friend and his eyebrows rose. "Greg?" The blonde's eyes were twitching…like they were trying to open. "That's it, bud. Open your eyes for me. You're safe now, you're gonna be alright. We got you out of there."
Greg's muscles tensed, his eyes blinked open sluggishly and looked around before landing on Nick. The Texan smiled, stroking the kid's knuckles with his thumb.
"N-Nick?" Greg replied softly, his voice stifled by the mask.
"Hey G. You're in an ambulance. We got you out."
"Hurts," Greg whimpered, a tear slipping from the corner of his eye.
"I know, buddy, I know. You'll be put on the good stuff soon."
"S-Screwed up, Nick. M'sorry."
"It's not your fault, Greg. This isn't your fault at all."
Greg swallowed, his eyes fluttering as he tried to stay conscious. It was difficult, though. He was in so much pain and he just want to let it all go. When he was unconscious nothing hurt.
"Tired," he mumbled out.
"Something's wrong," Ron said. "His blood pressure is dropping."
Nick frowned. "Greg? Greg! Oh god, please don't do this to me. You gotta hang on."
"He's going into V-Tach!" Ron shouted, grabbing the paddles while the other one cut Greg's shirt in half.
"Greg, just hang on, kid. We're almost to the hospital. Please just hang on for me."
Before Nick had time to respond, Greg's eyes rolled to the back of his head and his hand went limp is his own. Then the flat tone of the monitors.
"He's gone into cardiac arrest!"
"Greg! Don't you dare do this to me!" Nick began to cry. Greg was dying…right in front of his eyes. His best friend. He couldn't lose him, dammit! "Greg. Please don't do this."
As Greg faded away, he could hear someone's accented voice, but the clarity of his mind had turned to fog and the pleading voice meant nothing to him.
One Day Later
He heard noises, like voices; they were muffled, but close by along with beeping from all different directions. It was confusing, it was terrifying and he wanted it to be quiet again. He wanted to sleep again. There was a weight on his hand and something running through his hair. Fingers maybe? It felt good…comforting.
"He lost…lot…blood…hypovolemic…septic shock. Punctured lung…removed…spleen. High fever…mod…concussion. Stab …shoulder…might need therapy."
The voice was deep but soft. It sounded familiar, but he couldn't match it with a name. His body hurt so much and wherever he was, he prayed for sweet release.
"Doctor said…touch and go…lot of pain…he's lucky."
What the hell was going on? Why was he lucky? Why was he gonna be in pain. He didn't want to be in pain. The closer he got to waking up, the more things got confusing…like the weird feeling in his mouth that stopped him from moving his tongue. It was like a hand was down his throat. He clenched his fists and inhaled deeply. When he attempted to swallow, he found that it made things worse. He couldn't breathe, oh god, why couldn't he breathe?!
"Greg? Greg, man calm down, you're okay now. Relax!"
But he couldn't relax, there was something down his throat. He began to choke and he felt like he was about to throw up. He tried to lift his hand up to take it out, but it was being held down…which made him freak out even more. He was trapped…tied to the chair and being stabbed over and over again. Holy shit, everything hurt!
"Greg! The nurse is gonna take out the tube, just take it easy, buddy."
Take it easy? Ha! That's easy for you to say. You don't have a tube trying to suffocate you. He tried to open his eyes, but when he did everything was out of focus. Maybe that was because he was crying. When did he start crying?
"Greg, stop fighting us. You're ripping out wires. Please stop fighting."
He throat felt so raw, he needed water, but these people wouldn't fucking let him.
"We're gonna have to sedate him." It was a different voice; one he didn't recognize.
"Greggo."
Wait, the only person who called him that was…Nick. What was Nick doing here?
"Listen to me, buddy. It's me…its Nick. Sara and I are with you; you're at the hospital. We got you back, you're safe now."
"You're okay, Greg." A female voice that had to be Sara. "No one's gonna hurt you anymore."
Greg began to relax. He was safe now with Nick and Sara by his side. He felt exhausted, though; all the fighting had sapped his energy.
"That's it, G. We're gonna be right here with you. Just rest."
The fingers were back in his hair, but he was still in a lot of pain. He let out a small whimper, followed by a choked sob.
"It's okay, buddy. I know you're in pain. The nurse is gonna give you some meds to help it go away."
He began crying again when a more intense pain crashed through his fever riddled body.
"Shh, it'll be over soon," Sara whispered.
After what seemed like forever, he felt a warmth course through his veins and he began to drift away, the pain dulling. He let his heavy eyelids shut but he still kept a tight grip on whosever hand he was holding. He felt guilty that he was most likely cutting off their circulation.
Nick watched as Greg's body relaxed and the grip on his hand loosened before going limp a few seconds later. The blonde's breathing evened out and his head rolled to the side. The Texan let out a trembling breath before glancing up at Sara and leaving the room so the nurse could fix the wires. Sara joined him not long after, hugging herself. Nick massaged his hand, feeling the bumps where Greg's nails dug into his skin. The kid had a grip.
"How are you doing?" Sara sighed.
"Hand hurts," he chuckled halfheartedly, the smile fading away right after. "He didn't deserve that…being tortured like that. It should've been me or I should've went with him; I should've known the cops rarely pay attention."
"Greg's an adult, Nick, and a great CSI. He knows how to take a care of himself."
"I know that, but he's like the little brother I never had. I was the youngest of seven and I never had to look after anyone, but with Greg…I feel like it's my job to protect him and when he gets hurt, I feel like I've failed. He died, Sara. I don't know for how long because I had gone numb with fear, but they…his heart stopped and they shocked it four times. They almost called it." He tried to hold back the tears. "I begged them Sara. I begged them to keep trying."
"You didn't fail, Nick," Sara replied, placing a comforting hand on Nick's arm. "He's alive. We found him and he's alive. He's gonna be fine."
The Texan sighed and turned around, staring into the window as Greg slept on. The rest of the team was processing the basement where Greg was held and as much as he wanted to be out there catching the bastard who did this, he would much rather stay would Greg and make sure he continued to fight. Though he was skeptical; Greg was in terrible shape.
"He is going to be okay, right?"
"Of course he is," Sara said, trying to believe her own words. "It's Greg. He can pull through anything."
~+CSI+~
Greg looked like crap…he didn't even look like Greg anymore, his face pale and eyes rimmed with dark circles from the blood loss and the surgery, which no doubt took a look out of him. It made Grissom fall deeper into his pit of guilt for making Greg do those twenty blocks alone. He knew the kid was capable, he knew he could fend for himself, but the neighborhood wasn't exactly the best place to be in. He watched Greg's chest rise and fall for a few moments before looking up at Nick who was resting in a recliner and then at Brass who was talking on the phone in the hallway. He returned his gaze back to Greg and shook his head; he hated when one of his CSI's- one of his family- got hurt, especially if it was on the job.
"I'm sorry, Greg. I should've been more cautious. You need to get better, we need you back with us."
He suddenly noticed a little twitch from Greg's fingers and Grissom sat up. "Greg?"
"Gris," Nick jerked awake when he heard the man say Greg's name. "What's going on?"
"I think he's waking up. Go get Brass."
Nick got up from the chair to get the officer while Grissom sat forward, placing a hand on Greg's arm, waiting anxiously. The blonde inhaled raggedly, taking in the oxygen from the tube underneath his nose. His fingers curled and finally his eyes opened sluggishly. He seemed groggy and confused from exhaustion and the drugs; his eyes flitted around the room frantically before they landed on Grissom.
"You're okay, Greg. You're safe now. Do you know where you are?"
Greg frowned. He could tell Grissom was saying something because his lips were moving, but the words were fading in and out and sounding distorted. His mouth was extremely dry and bitter tasting; he tried to respond, but all that came out was a groan.
"You're at the hospital, Greg, remember?"
He did remember. It was somewhat hazy, but he recalled being hit over the head and then waking up in someplace cold and dark. Pain became to make itself present over his entire body as he remembered getting stabbed repeatedly. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it out.
"Greggo?"
He peeled open his eyes when he heard Nick's voice somewhere in the distance. God, he hated feeling so weak. The last time he felt this way was after the lab explosion, but this was ten times worse.
"Maybe we should wait."
"Nick, you know that we need information to get this guy, especially when the victim wakes up." Grissom turned back to Greg who was tiredly blinking up at him. "Greg, I know you're in a lot of pain and exhausted, but Brass is here to ask you about the man who kidnapped you. Do you understand?"
Greg shifted his eyes between Grissom and Brass who was standing at the end of his bed. He understood the information was crucial, because the guy who did this had left him to die alone in the basement and now he was out roaming the streets. He could come back for him.
Grissom noticed Greg was getting agitated, his nostrils flaring and he hated that he was keeping the kid away from sleep, but they needed this. "Greg? You with us?"
Greg inhaled sharply and nodded. The quicker he gave answers, the quicker he could go back to the comforting darkness.
"I'll try to make this quick, Greg," Brass said calmly. "Do you remember what the man looked like? His face, tattoos, anything at all?"
Greg swallowed, forcing his eyes to stay open. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth. "B-Big nose…deep accented v-voice. Small…small eyes…had a beard."
Brass frowned, sharing a look with Grissom. "What did the beard look like?"
"I don't know…a beard. What a b-beard looks like."
"How was it styled, though?" Grissom added.
Greg looked at Grissom like he had two heads. "W-What?"
"If I show you a picture, would you recognize him?"
"T-Think so."
Brass pulled a picture from his files and handed it to Grissom.
"Is this the guy?"
Greg blinked a few times to focus his vision before they went wide. "Y-Yeah."
"Are you sure? Is there anything else you can tell me about him?"
Greg whimpered, the pain shooting through his torso again. "H-Hurts."
"Alright, that's enough," Nick cut in. "You'll have to come back later, he's in pain and you're stressing him out." Nick faced his friend, squeezing the kid's hand. "Greg, go back to sleep, okay?"
Greg gasped. "But have to…have to give them statement…information."
"And you did, buddy. You did good, now get some rest."
Greg stared at the Texan for a moment before letting his eyes slip close. Nick ran a hand down his face before standing up straight. "What's going on? Why were you guys asking about what kind of beard this guy had?"
"Because," Grissom said, handing the Texan the picture. "That's the guy Greg just identified."
Nick was almost speechless. "Assemblyman Danilo Zamesca?"
"It makes sense," Grissom said. "Remember what he said in the video? 'You shot someone I love, because of you dumb pigs and now I might lose him.' Zamesca's son, Geraldo, was caught in the crossfires of the shootout and now he's paralyzed and still could end up dying."
Nick growled, bunching his fist. "I'm gonna fucking kill him."
The Next Morning
Nick was sleeping in the uncomfortable plastic chair by Greg's side, his hand loosely enveloping the blonde's. He wasn't much for handholding, but he had nearly lost the kid and the reality of that happening hit him like a brick. He vowed to keep the blonde close from now on…to always keep an eye on him. Because if something like this happened again, he didn't think he'd be able to handle it. Catherine watched from the doorway as two of her three boys slept on; Greg, the poor kid, was struggling and she wished she could take the pain away from him. And poor Nick, having to live through seeing Greg die and watching him wake up every time and want to fall back asleep because he hurt so much. She wiped her eyes and went to go sit down on the opposite side of the bed. Greg's fever was still a little high, but the doctor said he would slowly be getting better. Catherine brushed a few stray strands from the blonde's forehead and smiled sadly. She hated when a family member got hurt, it made her feel guilty that she hadn't been there to protect them. The woman glanced at her watch, wondering if Brass and Grissom were kicking Zamesca's ass in interrogation. He hoped they were. He deserved the worse. Sara and Warrick were finishing their shift up and would be by soon.
Nick suddenly gasped, sitting up and startling Catherine. He looked like he had just jumped out of a nightmare. His chest was heaving and tears slipped from his eyes.
"Nick, its okay," Catherine soothed. "Relax."
"Greg-"
"Greg's fine. It was just a nightmare."
Nick looked down at his friend, scanning him before letting out a deep breath. "Sorry."
"Wanna talk about it?"
The Texan pursed his lips. "Dreamt that when we found him, he was already dead. I tried to give him CPR, but-"
"Nick, take a breath. Greg's okay now."
"I know, I know. It's just…it's been a really rough few days."
Catherine sighed and was about to say something when a low moan got their attention. Eagerly, Nick tightening his grip on Greg's hand and smiled.
"Greg? You with us, buddy?"
The blonde's forehead creased and he let out a small whimper
"You're okay, Hun," Catherine soothed, running her fingers through his hair.
Greg's eyelids lifted slowly, squeezing shut a few times to get rid of the blurriness. He glanced around for a moment, trying to take it all it. He grunted, surprising himself with the weird sound that elicited from his throat.
"Hey, Greg," Nick said, placing his hand on top of the man's head. "Take it easy."
Greg stared up at the Texan, trying to form words in his brain so he could talk normally. Nick smiled and couldn't wait for the kid to say something even though it seemed like he was ready to fall back asleep.
"W-Where's…Grissom?" He said in a whispering voice, searching Nick's face.
Nick frowned. "Grissom?"
Greg nodded. "Need to…give statement."
"You already did yesterday."
"I did?"
"Yeah, you probably don't remember though, you were pretty out of it."
"Oh." Greg exhaled out of his nose and then laid back against the pillows. "What day is it?"
"Saturday morning. You were out for nearly three days," Catherine said.
"Did you get…get the guy?"
"We did. You don't have to worry about him anymore, sweetie."
"Who was it?"
Nick hesitated, not sure if he should answer, but Greg wanted to know and he had a right to. "Danilo Zamesca. He was pissed that his son got shot during the shootout and wanted us to pay."
Greg shivered, wiping the wetness from his eyes. "I really thought…I thought I was going to die. Every time he kept stabbing me, I was just waiting for it all to go black. He said he was going to leave me to bleed out after the fourth time. It hurt to breathe and I didn't know if you would find me." Tears spilled out of his eyes and Nick's blood boiled; he couldn't believe that asshole could do something like that to an innocent person.
"I tried to stay awake," Greg continued, his voice getting a little stronger. "I really tried, I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for, buddy," Nick said. "We're just glad you're okay."
Greg smiled weakly. "Now what?"
"Do you want something to eat?" Catherine asked.
Greg made a face and he shook his head. "No…already feel nauseous enough as it is."
"Well, sit tight. I'm gonna go find your doctor."
Greg nodded silently and once Catherine left, Nick scooted the chair closer to Greg.
"How are you feeling?"
Greg shrugged, shifting a little with a wince. "Okay I guess. Still a little sore."
"I bet…you really scared me, Greg. I thought I was going to lose you. But you pulled through. I knew you would. I'm just sorry that we made you do that road on your own."
"It's not your fault, Nick. There was nothing you could've done."
"I know, but still. You're my little brother and I'm supposed to protect you. Promise me you won't do something like this again."
Greg looked at him tiredly. "I don't really have any control on what the criminals decide to do."
"But promise me…please Greggo."
Greg sighed and nodded. "I promise…as long as you promise me something."
"Anything, bud."
"Get rid of that mustache."
Nick sputtered and Greg chuckled. "It just makes you look weird…it makes you look older or like Ron Burgundy."
Nick laughed. More than he had in days. "Oh really? I'm gonna get you for that."
Greg smirked, rubbing his eyes. "Am I gonna be okay?"
"Yeah, man. Especially now since you have battle scars to show to the ladies."
Greg snorted. "Guess so, since I'll have four to prove it."
Nick smiled sadly. He was glad Greg could still joke around even at his own expense. Why don't you get some rest, kid. You're in for a long recovery."
Greg closed his eyes and yawned. "Great."
Nick fixed the blonde's blanket as Greg succumbed to exhaustion. The man still didn't look great, but he had woken up, had talked, that's all he needed to reassure himself that the young CSI was going to be okay.
Three days later, Greg was able to go home as long as he stayed with someone for a few days to make sure he was doing okay. Nick helped Greg walk up the stairs to his apartment, being the one to volunteer to take the kid in. By the time they reached the top, Greg was breathless and groaning in pain.
"Almost there, buddy. Once we get inside I'll give you the pain medication and you can rest."
"C-Can't…wait."
Nick smirked and placed a hand on Greg's back as he led him inside. The second Greg saw the couch, he tried to go over to it, but Nick took him away.
"Not the couch, it's not comfortable. You can take my bed."
"W-What about…what about you?"
Nick shook his head. Greg's selflessness never ceased to amaze him. "Don't worry about me. You just focus on getting better."
"Okay." Once Greg sat down on the bed, he closed his eyes and laid down on his back.
"Don't fall asleep yet. Why don't you get changed while I get your meds; Catherine packed you a bag."
"Thank you."
When Nick left, Greg exhaled deeply before grabbing the duffle bag and pulling out a t-shirt and sweatpants. By the time he finished getting dressed, he was really in a lot of pain…he wished Nick would hurry up with those pills. It was so bad that he didn't realize Nick had showed up and he didn't realize he had been crying.
"Greg, man, what's wrong? Talk to me."
"Hurts…a l-lot."
"Damn, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to take so long. Here."
Greg opened his eyes that had been squeezed shut tightly and saw Nick kneeling in front of him, a guilty, sad look on his face. His vision was a little blurry but he saw two white pills in Nick's palm; he took them quickly and washed them down with water.
"Okay, now you can sleep. I'm sorry you're hurting. I wish I could stop it."
Greg closed his eyes. "S'fine. Thank you, Nick, for everything. I'll be okay." Greg laid down and curled into a ball on his uninjured side.
Nick grinned and grabbed the blankets, draped them over the blonde's body. "I know you will, buddy. I know you will."
FIN
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