Taking it Out on You

Chapter Info: For Pickled Pepper: Nick is really angry/frustrated about something, and in taking it out on Greg, ends up hitting him or something. Enjoy!

This case had been a bust from the start. Their killer was insanely good at not leaving behind evidence and now a little girl was dead...two little girls actually. They were twins. The two were kidnapped from their home one night while the parents were sleeping. They had tried their damnedest to get them back, helping the parents pay the ransom but...the man had lied. They had tried to get the kidnapper while waiting for him to pick up the ransom, but he never came. Turns out the guy tricked them and waited until they left to grab the money. Later on, they found their bodies that had been sexually assaulted and beaten to nearly a pulp before being thrown into the lake. Nick was pissed to say nonetheless; he felt as if it was his fault. He hadn't been fast enough and now a couple just lost two precious daughters.

"God!" He punched the lockers, not caring if it cut his knuckles. He let out a seething breath and got up, headed for the bathroom. He didn't even notice that Greg had saw and was now following him.

First Warrick and now this. Why did everyone he loved or cared about have to die? He had no one, now. Everyone was gone and there was nothing that he could do about it. Smacking his hand on the bathroom door, he stormed in and leaned hunched over the sink, heaving.

"Nick?"

The small voice caused the Texan to look up and see Greg standing near the door.

"What do you want, Greg?" He said a little too coldly.

The younger CSI seemed to be taken aback. "Umm, well, I just wanted to see if you were okay. I saw you having a fist fight with the locker," he added with a weak laugh.

"Does it look like I'm okay, Greg?" He growled and turned to face the man. "And why is everything always a joke to you? Can't you take anything seriously? God!"

"Nick-"

"Shut up! You're so annoying; you know, I get that you don't care Warrick was murdered but that doesn't give you a reason to be all happy around everyone. We are mourning and just because you aren't, you don't need to pretend that things are normal."

"Nick, what the hell!" Greg shouted, starting to stick up for himself, although he was shaken and terrified. He didn't like people yelling at him mostly because of the beating that happened a couple years ago. It was still fresh in his mind like it was yesterday and even though he could sometimes control his anxiety, shouting and being pushed around was not going to help. "You know damn well that I'm mourning. Warrick was my friend too!"
"Yeah," Nick scoffed. "Could've fooled me."

"At least he actually was happy that I became a CSI," he really couldn't keep his mouth shut. "He encouraged me instead of calling me a CSI wannabe!"

"And I was right about that, Greg. You still are a CSI wannabe. You can't do anything right and for all I know, Warrick's death could be your fault!"

He felt like he'd been punched in the gut. How could Nick say something like that to him?

"Get out of my way," Nick muttered as he started walking towards the door. But Greg didn't move. One, he was still shocked and two, they weren't done talking.

"Greg, get the fuck out of my way!"

"No. Nick, we aren't done."

"Well, I am, now get out of the way before you regret it."

"You'd actually hurt me?"

Nick didn't respond, he just glared holes into Greg's eyes. "Get. Out of. The Way."

Greg pursed his lips and sighed. He stepped to the side, but the persistent side of him wouldn't let this be over. "Nick, wait-"

And before he knew what was happening, Nick spun around and clocked him in the cheek. Greg stumbled back and crashed against the sink, hitting his head on the way down. He looked up in fear, tears brimming in his brown eyes. He held his pounding face and blinked a couple times to focus his vision. Nick had just punched him! He didn't even have time to say anything as the Texan stormed out of the room without a second glance back. Greg let the tears fall once he was alone; Nick hated him and he punched him. The guy probably wished that he was the one who was killed instead of Warrick...and so did he. Wiping his face, Greg stood up on shaky legs, swayed a bit and then walked out of the bathroom. He felt really sick and he decided going home was the best thing to do so he didn't break down in front of everyone. He had been holding it in since the funeral and he made himself stay strong for the rest of them, but he didn't think he could do it anymore. The beating was bad, but this might be worse because his best friend- or so he thought- had hurt him. He found Grissom in his office and cleared his throat.

"Um, Grissom?"

The man looked up and he frowned. "Greg, are you okay?" His face looked red...like someone had hit him.

"N-No, not really. This whole t-thing with Warrick is r-really starting to get to me. Do you...do you mind if I just take the rest of the night off?"

He smiled sadly. "Sure, go ahead. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Yeah," Greg answered with a whisper and a weak smile. He trudged out of the room and to the lockers where he grabbed his coat and left the building. He didn't know where Nick was, but that was a good thing, because then he wouldn't risk getting hurt again by the man. He was scared of him and afraid that if he crossed the Texan one more time, he might be killed. Squeezing his eyes against the pounding of his head, Greg got into his car and slowly made his way back home. Maybe it would be better off if he wasn't around anymore. He knew killing himself wouldn't bring Warrick back, but at least Nick could get what he wanted.

~+CSI+~

Guilt wasn't even a word to describe how he was feeling right now. He had hit Greg. His little brother. He had hurt the one man he cared about right now and it was all because he couldn't control his goddamn anger. He had gone outside for a quick walk to clear his head and he realized that violence wasn't the answer; he had to apologize to Greg before things got really bad. He knew that the kid had been distraught about Warrick and he accused him of not caring. He also knew how sensitive Greg was to shouting and rough contact because of the beating. God, how could he be so thoughtless? What the hell kind of big brother was he? He was supposed to watch over the young CSI; he was the only sibling he had left-well, male- and he had pushed him away...or more like punched him away. After running back to the lab, he noticed that Greg's car was gone. Frowning, he went inside, breathlessly, and headed for Grissom's office.

"Hey Gris, you know where Greg is?"

The man didn't even look up. "Said he wasn't feeling well and I sent him home. Why?"

"I-I did something bad and I need to apologize to him."

Grissom looked up, his forehead creased. "What did you do?"

"I hit him, Gris. God I was so upset about the case and Warrick that I hit him." Before Grissom could say anything, Nick ran out of the building and hopped into his car. He had said so many hurtful things to the kid that he didn't know what Greg would do. The man was his little brother and he was supposed to be there for him...and he really sucked at it. He pressed on the gas, determined to get to Greg's apartment before the kid did something stupid.

Meanwhile, Greg was sitting at his kitchen table, his gun in hand. His face hurt, his head hurt and his heart hurt. He had felt so abandoned, so uncared for and after the recent events, those feelings grew ten times bigger. He couldn't believe he was thinking of killing himself, but he knew that it was for the best. Once he was gone, Nick would feel a lot better and say that he got what he deserved. Tears dripping from his eyes, he sniffed and loaded the gun with trembling fingers. He had written a note when he got home after deciding that his suicide was final. Closing his eyes, he brought the gun up to his neck- he was gonna kill himself like Warrick had been murdered. That way he could suffer; he deserved to suffer.

"I'm sorry." And just as he was about to start putting pressure on the trigger, there was a loud knock on his door. He jumped in surprise and waited for the person to identify themselves.

"Greg!"

Shit it was Nick. Probably to come hurt him some more. He remained, quiet, lowering the gun, but not taking the aim away from him. He stared at the door and waited.

"Greggo, come on man, answer the door."

Weird...he didn't sound angry anymore...more like guilty and...scared? He frowned, but didn't move. He turned his face back to the gun and he just waited, hoping Nick would leave so he could do this.

"Greg, buddy, I know you can hear me; Please...just open the door. I'm...I'm sorry." When Nick got no response, he almost decided to leave, but something was telling him to go in. And he stayed with that gut feeling; something was wrong and he needed to go talk to the kid.

He pulled out his key ring and found the one for Greg's place. They had swapped keys after he'd been buried alive for a reason he didn't feel like talking about. He had the key and that was that. "G, I'm coming in." And the sight he was presented with made his body go cold. The keys dropped from his fingers and clattered onto the floor. "Greg...what...what the hell are you doing?" The kid had a gun pointed at his face and his finger was on the trigger. This couldn't be fucking happening.

"I'm doing what you want," the man replied in a monotone voice, not taking his gaze away from the muzzle.

As Nick moved closer- slowly- he kept speaking in hopes to stall the man long enough so he could disarm him. "And what's that?"

"You tell me." Finally Greg looked up and face the Texan.

Nick fell even deeper in his pit of self-hatred when he saw the huge formed black and blue bruise on the kid's cheek. He had done that. Nice job Nick.

"You're the one who wants me dead," he continued.

Nick frowned. "Greggo, what the hell are you talking about man?"

"Admit it Nick," Greg sobbed, his hands shaking. Nick knew that he had to be careful or more than one person could get hurt. "You wish that it was me instead of Warrick."

"G, how could you say that? Sure I miss the guy, but I sure as hell don't want it to be you. Now please...put the gun down."

"What ab-about all those things you said b-back at the l-lab? You were right, I'm a CSI w-wannabe and you guys are better off without a screw-up like me."

Tears fell from Nick's eyes; the reason Greg was going to commit suicide was because he caused it. "Greg, that's not true. Everything I said back there was just my anger and I never should've taken it out on you. I'm so, so, so sorry. Please don't do this. I'm begging you not to do this."

"Why?" Nick moved closer and Greg shrunk back. He was still afraid the guy might beat the shit out of him.

"Why? Because you're my little brother and I love you. It took forever to realize that you were still here, supporting me through all of this. I know you're mourning for Warrick and the happy personality is just your nature. It's just your way to get through it all without going off the deep end...like me. I finally got my head out of my ass and...I don't want to lose you too. P-Please; hitting you was way out of line and if I could take it back, I would. You aren't responsible for Warrick's death and you are the best damn CSI I've ever seen. You are so much stronger than I am and I shouldn't be angry at you for that. Now put the gun down, okay?"

Greg looked at him with tear filled eyes for a moment, before looking back at the gun. And just when Nick thought he had failed, Greg placed the gun on the table and started heaving sobs. Relief washed over Nick as he ran over, pushed the gun away and grabbed the younger man into a tight hug

"I'm s-sorry, Nick; I'm so s-sorry." Greg cried.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, G," Nick whispered, burying his face in the kid's blonde hair and rubbing circles on his back. "It's me that should be sorry. God, I'm so sorry." Tears started coming out faster and he squeezed the smaller man tighter. He had almost lost the kid and it was entirely his fault. He had already lost one brother, he wouldn't be able to handle losing two. From then til whenever, he was gonna promise to be there for the kid all the way. They sat like that, crying and Nick whispering for twenty minutes until the Texan decided something.

"Why don't you come stay at my place for a little bit, G? Have some guy time." And so I can keep an eye on you. "What do you say?" He pulled away and smiled down at his little brother.

Greg wiped his face and nodded. "Y-Yeah, that s-sounds good." He frowned and looked at Nick's shirt, seeing the wet-spot his tears made. "S-Sorry."

Nick looked down and rolled his eyes at the kid's apology. "Nothing that can't be washed, G. Now come on, I got some nice cold beers in the fridge just calling our names."

Greg laughed feebly and with help from Nick, he got up from the chair and went to grab some clothes to bring over. While he was waiting, Nick took a deep breath, trying to calm his heart down from exploding out of his chest. All of a sudden, a paper on the kitchen counter caught his eye. A suicide note. Biting the inside of his cheek, he quickly grabbed it and stuffed it in his jacket just before Greg came out. His face was pale and his eyes were puffy and red.

"Ready man?"

Greg nodded weakly and Nick placed a hand on the kid's back, leading him out of the apartment and shutting the door behind him. He would read the note later when the younger man wasn't around.

Later that Night

Nick sipped beer from his bottle and looked over at his little brother who was doing the same, eyes glued on the T.V. His face was still pale and he still looked sad, but at least it was better than the alternative. He hated seeing that giant bruise on the side of his face; the bruise that he made. It made him want to beat himself even more. The kid had been quiet the entire ride over, almost falling asleep, and also here. Barely said a word, even about the game. Usually he'd be bragging about his team when they scored or laughing about Nick's team losing. But he was completely silent. Then again, the kid had a mental breakdown, so he guessed it was perfectly understandable. Nick smiled sadly and nudged Greg's shoulder playfully.

"You okay, bud?" He smirked.

Greg turned to him and returned the smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, just really tired I guess." Greg rubbed his eyes and placed the barely touched beer on the table. Everything that had happened plus the whole suicide thing drained all of his energy. He just wanted to sleep.

Nick smiled sadly, placing his beer next to Greg's. "Come on, I'll show you to the guest room and you can sleep there."

"Thanks, Nick," Greg yawned and let himself be lead to the room. Nick tossed him a t-shirt and some basketball shorts- that were way to big for him- and before Greg even hit the pillows, he was out like a light.

The corner of Nick's mouth twitched upwards before he ruffled the kid's messy blonde hair and decided to hit the sheets as well. But then he remembered the note. He pulled the folded up paper out of his jacket and leaned against the wall outside the room.

I know this is the coward's way out, but that's just what I am...a coward. I don't see a point in being here anymore, because I'm not wanted. I know that it shouldn't have been Warrick that was murdered. It should've been me, because I'm way more deserving of it than him. I mean...I killed a kid. I'm not a good CSI and I'm a murderer. I'm sure a lot of other people will be happy that I'm dead and I will be too. Nick, you got what you wanted; I know this can't bring Warrick back, but at least you don't have to deal with me anymore. Grissom, you've taught me so much and I'm sorry things had to end this way. Sara, I loved you since day one, too bad we never got to go out, huh? Catherine, you're my second mother and I'm sorry that I hurt you this way. I just can't keep going like this anymore. I tried holding it together for all of you, but it's become too much of a weight on my shoulders when no one else has your back in return. I'm so sorry. Goodbye. Love Greg.

When Nick finished reading, tears were flowing out onto his face. He couldn't believe Greg was really feeling this way. The kid never said anything...but then again, no one really gave him the chance. No one asked if he was okay. The kid was the most selfless person in the world, supporting everyone but himself. God, he felt like such an ass! What kind of friend- what kind of brother was he? He rested his head back and took a deep breath, listening to the soft breathing of the younger man inside the room. He may not have saved those two girls, but he saved another life today. Someone he cared a hell of a lot more for; if he had done anything differently, Greg could be dead. He could be finding the kid bleeding out on the floor. They'd have to tell his parents, they'd be going to, yet, another funeral and losing another one of their family members. But that didn't happen and Nick didn't want to think about the 'what if's' but more the 'what could he do to make things better.' Things were gonna change and he swore it.

Sniffing and wiping his face, he dumped the beer in the sink, shut off the television, and made his way to his room, changing and getting under the covers. Today had been a really bad day for the both of them, but none of that mattered anymore. Greg was alive and they were on good terms again...better brothers. He closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

~+CSI+~

Nick ran down the hall of Greg's apartment building; the journey being endless. By the time he got to the kid's door, he pounded on it frantically. He prayed he wasn't too late; he couldn't be late.

"Greg! Greggo, open the door, please!" And over all the shouting and pounding, he heard the one sound he was dreading.

Bang!

His heart stopped and he stood there stunned until he gathered his bearings and kicked down the door. What he saw made his heart shatter. Greg was on the ground, next to his chair, a bullet wound in his neck, gun in his limp hand, and blood flowing everywhere.

"Greg! No!" He bolted over and fell to his knees, not caring if he got blood on his pants. He scooped Greg's upper body into his arms and pressed a hand against the wound. "Greg, no, please don't do this to me. Please!"

Greg gurgled, blood spilling out of his mouth and he looked up at him with pain and sadness in his eyes. And Nick could only imagine how Grissom felt when he was holding a dying Warrick in his arms...and this was strangely similar. "Dammit, G what the hell were you thinking!?"

"Ngh...Ni..."

"Don't speak man, just hang on okay? Please just hang on."

"S-Sorry, Ni...Nick." With that, Greg's eyes closed and his heart stopped beating. His head fell limp to the side and Nick was frozen in terror.

"No. No, no, no. Oh god, what have I done. What have I done! Greg!"

"Greg!" Nick shot up from his bed in a cold sweat, clutching the blankets and breathing heavily. That nightmare had been so real; too real in fact. He could still almost feel the blood on his hands and Greg's body in his arms. Swallowing thickly, Nick swung his legs over the bed and got out, heading for Greg's room. He opened it and saw that the kid was still sleeping peacefully. His face was calm however his hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat, leaving him wondering if the man had a fever or something. He went over and gently, so he wouldn't wake the young CSI up, he placed his hand on Greg's forehead and frowned. Warm...too warm. Maybe because it was the fact that the heat was on and Greg was bundled in a shit ton of blankets. He went over to the window and turned on the A/C. When he was sure his little brother was comfortable, he smiled warmly and left the room once more to get a glass of water. He swore to himself that something like this would never happen again; that he would never push away the ones he loved...especially Greg. He should be lucky to have a little brother like the funky kid and he was never going to forget that.

FIN!

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