In Those 60 Minutes
Prompt for: meggysmeg: What if Greg was late into work by an hour or so, he then collapsed in the middle of the crime lab because he was shot or something?
Enjoy!
Nick glanced down at his watch and rolled his eyes. Greg was over an hour late and they had a scene to get to in ten minutes. He had tried calling the kid, but it kept going to voicemail and Nick didn't know whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Well, in what world would it be good? It hadn't been long since Greg had been beaten nearly to death and then almost charged with Demetrius James' murder and he was surprised at how quickly the kid bounced back. However, he was still pretty sensitive and jumpy and he wasn't the same joking guy that he used to be, but he was getting better. Or so he thought. Biting the inside of his cheek, he was getting kind of pissed off. Greg had been a CSI for two years and he should be acting like one. He should be on time, he should be prepared and he should be…
"What the…"
Nick stopped his internal rant when he saw Greg walk- or more like limp- in from the front door, hunched, arm wrapped tightly around his stomach and a look of agony on his strangely pale face even though it seemed like he was trying to hide it. Frowning, he followed the man as he shuffled towards the locker room.
"Greg?" Nick spoke, when he caught up with him. The blonde was resting against the locker, sweating, visibly trembling and breathing heavily. "You okay, bud?"
Greg's eyes flickered open and he forced a smile. "Y-Yeah. I'm good. Probably just a stomach bug or something."
Nick's forehead creased even more. He hardly believed the kid's lie; Greg was never really good at it to begin with. "Is that why you were late?" Why was Greg still holding his stomach?
Greg wiped his brow and stiffly open up his locker, pain shooting up his side and resisting the urge to cry out in pain. "Yeah. S-Sorry. I've been throwing up all day and only fell asleep a few hours before my shift." But that's the story that he decided to make up on the drive over, when really he was bleeding…badly. He was actually going to be on time for work when someone ambushed him outside his apartment. Miraculously, he managed to get away and suddenly he was being chased by four people. Where the other three came from, he had no idea…he just ran. After nearly five minutes of running in the unpopulated neighborhood, he stupidly took the wrong turn and he was cornered in the alley. They found and shot him, leaving him for dead. And he really thought he was dead, but then he found himself aching terribly and staring up at the night sky. He hadn't bothered to look at his wounds since they didn't hurt and he assumed that it was just a graze he could easily patch up, plus he was super late for work. However, the walk back to his car and the drive to the lab seemed to make things worse, because the pain became extremely noticeable and his side felt wet and sticky. He was definitely bleeding more and he couldn't let anyone see. He was a CSI now- a two year fresh CSI- and he couldn't screw it up. He had to breathe and get through the day successfully…then he could maybe go to the hospital. But for now he needed bandages; but Nick was staring at him and he wouldn't leave. If he took the wrappings out now, there would be questions and he didn't have the patience or a clear, non-pounding head to be doing that. The longer he waited though, the more lightheaded and nauseous he became. But he had to say something before the Texan got really suspicious.
"Nick, I'm fine."
"Greg, even if you were telling the truth, you look like crap and should be at home resting."
Greg rolled his eyes. "No, I need to be working. It's the only w-way I'll be a good CSI." He screwed up his solo once, nearly getting himself killed in the process, he couldn't let the team down again. Greg blinked a few times, trying to push past the dizziness. Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself off the lockers and swayed a little. When he stepped forward, Nick blocked the exit so he couldn't leave. "C-Can you let me through? I'm already an hour late, I don't need to be any later." He tried to walk by, but Nick grabbed his arm that was covering the gunshot wound and he yelped a little at the sudden force.
"N-Nick, let…let go of me."
"Not until you tell me what the hell is going on!"
"There's n-nothing going on!" Greg gasped, the pain flaring up. "Why can't you just let me go?!" He ripped his arm out of Nick's grasp and he lost his balance, slamming up against the doorframe. The burning intensified and he knew the jig was up, because he could taste vomit spewing out of his mouth.
Nick watched in horror as Greg shouted in pain after he fell against the wall. Greg immediately puked and then his legs folded underneath him, collapsing lifelessly into the hallway. He was glued to the spot; what the hell just happened? The rest of the time went by in a blur, he went to Greg's aid, trying to wake him up and then noticing the huge, dark red spot growing on the blonde's side. When he pulled back Greg's jacket, he gasped…the kid had been shot. He shouted for an ambulance and ten minutes later, Greg was loaded onto a gurney and being wheeled down the hallway towards the front, Nick close by. That's when he began to regain consciousness.
"Greggo?" Nick spoke worriedly when he saw the man's eyes sluggishly peel open. "Greg, can you hear me?" The blonde scanned the area, his breath puffing against the oxygen mask he had over his mouth. Nick grabbed Greg's hand, squeezing his fingers tightly. "I'm here, bud, don't worry. Just hang on."
Greg moaned, feeling sick, but also weird and floaty. He couldn't remember what happened. At first he was yelling at Nick and now he was moving somewhere. He could hear voices passing in and out of his head, one unfamiliar, saying something about losing a lot of blood and the other having some sort of accent. Glancing to his right, Nick's face swam into view.
"Ni-Nick?"
The Texan smiled. "Hey man, you're gonna be okay."
"Nick," he said again, trying to fight unconsciousness. The man needed to hear this before he did. "Nick…s-someone…someone tried to…to kill me."
"What?" The older man replied, utterly shocked. "What are you talking about?"
"T-They tried to…to kill me," he said, losing the battle.
"Who, Greg."
He couldn't stay awake much longer.
"Greg, who?"
Nick's voice was so far away and as much as he wanted to answer, he was so goddamn tired. His eyes fluttered close and he welcomed the cool darkness once more.
Six Hours Later
"Greg?" Nick sat forward in his chair when he saw Greg's fingers twitch. It had been hours after the kid had collapsed and he was finally waking up. It was a miracle that he was okay since he lost a lot of blood. It was an even bigger miracle that he had been walking around to begin with, with a bullet in his side. The doctor said that there was an infection and he would be in pain and have a fever for a while, but he was going to recover and that's all that Nick wanted to hear. Though Greg wasn't going to be happy he was in the hospital for the second time in the duration of a month and a half; he wasn't happy either. The kid didn't need this…he shouldn't have to look over his shoulder every time he walked in public.
Sara, Warrick and Catherine were getting coffee, while he, Brass and Grissom were waiting for the young CSI to wake up. He wasn't sure if Greg was being delusional due to the extensive blood loss or if he was being serious about someone trying to kill him, but he wasn't taking any chances. "Greg, can you hear me?" He placed his hand over the blonde's and squeezed it. Finally, his eyes blinked open and surveyed the room before looking at Nick.
"W-What…what…" Greg spoke hoarsely before clearing his throat. "Where am I?"
"You're at the hospital," Grissom said. "Do you remember what happened?"
Greg sighed, already beginning to feel his energy waning. He didn't even know he had closed his eyes until someone shook him gently.
"Greg, this is important," Nick said after he reluctantly prevented the man from falling back asleep. "You said someone tried to kill you."
Greg's eyes went wide as everything came rushing back at him. He was ambushed, chased, shot and left for dead. They thought he was dead so they just left him there. But when they found out he wasn't-
"Greg! Greggo, take it easy man. Deep breaths."
His chest was heaving and he was feeling lightheaded from hyperventilating. When he did start freaking out? "N-Nick…"
"You're okay, buddy."
"Why don't you just tell us what happened." Grissom added.
"Start from the beginning," Brass said in an oddly comforting voice. "And take all the time you need. We'll get these sons of bitches."
Greg wiped his eyes and nodded, trying to force himself not to give into the good drugs and fall asleep, though the pain was starting to come back so he wanted to make this a quick as possible. "I was…I was coming out of my apartment and this guy attacked me. I got away and started…started running. Then three other guys…they came out of nowhere and they were all…they were all chasing me. I took a wrong turn and I was backed in a corner. They shot me and I think I must've passed out, because…because the next thing I knew, I was lying in a bunch of trash bags, alive, and they were gone."
"Why didn't you go straight to the hospital, man?" Nick said. "You almost died."
"I'm sorry I just…I didn't want to let you guys down. I just became a CSI not that long ago and then screwed up the one solo that I got, I was just…I was afraid you'd fire me. I was afraid of disappointing you guys again."
Grissom pursed his lips sadly, sharing a look with the Texan. "You could never let me down, Greg. You've proved yourself to be an exceptional CSI a long time ago. I'm more disappointed that you didn't take care of yourself first. But I'm glad you're okay."
"Me too," Nick smiled, patting Greg's arm. "Just don't pull a stunt like that again or else."
Greg smirked tiredly and nodded. "I won't, I promise."
"Alright," Brass continued. "So what did these guys look like?"
"They were all black males," Greg answered, trying to remember his attackers' description. "Two were heavyset and the other two were really tall. I didn't really get a good look at their faces due to the fact I was running for my life. I'm sorry…that's not much help is it."
"You did good, Greg," Brass smiled. "Do you remember where you were? Where they shot you?"
Greg hesitated, trying to think past the feverish fog in his mind. "I ran a block from my apartment…I think I passed Barb's Hardware Store and then I turned into what I thought was an alley that would take me to another street so I could lose them. That was a big mistake."
"I'll send my guys over to comb the area," Brass said.
"I'll let Catherine know so she can meet us there," said Grissom. "I also want security outside the door and the hospital. Nick, stay with Greg and keep an eye out. Once they figure out Greg is still alive, they'll try again. This definitely was organized."
Nick nodded. He wasn't planning on leaving anyways. He glanced at his friend and saw that he looked terrified. He grabbed the blonde's hand and clasped it tightly. "You're gonna be okay, buddy. Nothing's gonna happen. I won't let it."
Greg smiled feebly, wiping his nose before sinking back into the pillows. He had felt a warm tingling in his body and he knew, from the many times of being stuck in the hospital, that morphine had just been pushed into his system. "I'm tired."
"You can sleep now, Greg," Grissom sighed.
The blonde's eyes dipped close and his body relaxed. Nick rubbed his mouth and looked at Grissom as the older man stood up. "We're gonna get these guys, right?"
"We're not gonna stop until we do."
~+CSI+~
The whole team, excluding Nick and Greg, had found the alley where Greg had been shot. Grissom and Brass were questioning people around the area, Catherine was tracing Greg's steps from where he started running and Warrick and Sara were dealing with the crime scene. There wasn't much to process though, except for finding a casing, that most likely would match the bullet that had been removed from Greg's body during surgery, and some blood splattered against the wall and a puddle of it also on the ground. Warrick clenched his teeth in anger at the thought of someone hurting Greg again. Why couldn't the kid catch a break? First the beating now this? What the hell did Greg ever do wrong?
"How the hell are we supposed to find these people if this is all the evidence we can find?"
Sara sighed. "I have no idea. Hopefully we can find something; whoever tried to kill Greg probably found out by now that he's not dead."
"At least he's got Nick with him; the guy would murder someone before he let anyone hurt Greg."
Sara smiled, snapping a picture of the blood. All of a sudden, Catherine came running towards them and she looked happy.
"What? What is it?" Sara said.
"There are security cameras down where Greg was being chased."
Warrick smirked and pulled out his phone. "I'll call Archie." They finished up and brought what they had back to the lab.
Meanwhile, back at the hospital, Greg wasn't doing too well. His infection was getting worse and his fever was climbing; he was delusional and Nick hated to see the kid like that…so out of it. The nurse had given him a bowl of cold water and a cloth for him to soak and put across the blonde's burning forehead every half hour. And even if Greg had no idea what he was saying or who he even was, Nick spoke to him, hoping that it would make him feel better…safe. Right now, the kid was in a restless sleep and Nick had just put another wet cloth over his forehead. He smirked, brushing back a sweaty blonde strand.
"You know when you said you wanted to become a CSI, I was skeptical. I wanted to believe that you were just joking around. Truth is, back then I didn't want you to become a CSI, I actually hoped you wouldn't go through with it. Don't get me wrong, I know you would've made a great investigator, no doubt and you have. Your love for this job is amazing…I was just scared I guess. I'm supposed to protect you and things like this happening…like the beating, it was exactly what I was afraid of. I hate seeing you like this man, I hate seeing you suffer. You're my best friend…you're my little brother, Greggo." He watched the blonde's chest rise and fall erratically, his breath coming out raspy. Pursing his lips in sympathy, Nick squeezed Greg's shoulder before sighing heavily and glancing up at the clock. He hoped the team was having some luck finding the person responsible. And when they did, he was going tear them apart.
Two Hours Later
Nick was dozing in his chair when he felt someone shaking him. He jerked awake, ready to talk to a nurse, comfort Greg or beat the shit out of whoever was about to attack him.
"Nick, easy, it's just me, Warrick."
He blinked open his eyes and blearily glanced up to see the older man standing next to him. He immediately sat up and looked at Greg. Still asleep and still breathing…but still running a fever.
"What time is it?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
"Almost four in the morning."
The Texan stretched, his back aching from the uncomfortable position he was sleeping in. He had been sleeping for two hours…he must've been really exhausted. Huffing through his nose, he grabbed the cloth, soaked it and put it back on Greg's forehead.
"How's he doing?" Warrick asked.
"Not better, not worse. What's up?"
"We didn't get much at the crime scene, but it doesn't matter because Catherine got faces off a security camera they all ran by. We also matched the bullet to a gun used in a robbery three years ago."
"Who are they?" Nick replied.
"Nick White, Marcus Ellis, and Tim Barba, all big time offenders. We're gonna need to up the protection on Greg, because…they were hired to kill him."
"What? Hired by who?" Nick snapped, clenching his fists.
"They won't say."
"Son of a bitch, of course they won't."
"You want a crack at them?"
"Love to…but Greg-"
"I'll stay here with him, don't worry. And I'll let you know if his condition changes."
Nick inhaled deeply before nodding. He rubbed his palms against his pants and stood up. "Okay. Thanks 'Rick."
"Go kick those guys' asses."
The Texan smirked, glancing at the slumbering Greg one last time before leaving the room. Warrick sighed and took a seat, flipping on the TV and then turning to Greg.
"We're gonna get these guys, buddy. We're not gonna let anything happen to you again."
The next morning, Greg's fever finally broke and while the nurses were changing the sheets and cleaning the blonde up, Warrick went to grab a quick coffee, figuring Greg would be fine since he still had the guard and the nurses to company him.
Greg peeled his eyes open, feeling achy and warm. He could barely remember what happened, everything fading in and out. He was chased, shot, and collapsed at the lab, after that it was all pretty hazy. Groaning, he looked around the dark room, recalling that he was at the hospital…but he was alone. Light was shining through the blinds so he figured it was daytime.
"N-Nick?" The Texan had been there right? He hadn't been hallucinating? How long had he been sleeping anyways? He didn't know, but what he did know was that he needed to go to the bathroom really badly. Stiffly sitting up, Greg swung his legs over the bed and grasped his I.V. stand, pulling himself to his feet. It took some getting used to and almost falling back down, but he gained control and shuffled to the bathroom. By the time he was finished, he was out of breath, sweating and ready to get back into bed. He washed his hands, dried them and went to open the door. The second he did, Greg gasped in shock; the man standing in front of him was the last person he was expecting. Before he had time to shout out, there was a sharp prick in the side of his neck and almost immediately he felt like he was drowning and the light at the surface faded quickly. His legs went weak and his world went black.
~+C+~
Nick briskly walked down the hall, anxious to see if Greg had gotten better or woke up yet. He hadn't gotten shit out of any of the three men which pissed him off; he really wanted to know who put the hit out on his best friend. When he turned the corner, Nick's heart pounded frantically. The guard was unconscious on the floor. Biting the inside of his cheek, he ran down the rest of the hall and skid into Greg's room. The bed was empty…the entire room was empty.
"Greg?" Near the bathroom, the I.V pole was on the ground, the liquid spilling out from the unoccupied needle. "Oh no. Oh shit."
"Nick, what's going on?" Warrick said as he stepped in the room, coffee in hand.
He spun around angrily. "Where the hell were you!?"
"I was just getting a coffee."
"A fucking coffee!? You were supposed to be watching Greg! Now he's gone!"
Warrick looked at the bed, realizing it was empty. Fuck. "He had nurses here I figured he would be alright for ten minutes."
"Well you figured wrong! God dammit!" Nick ran his fingers through his hair before pulling out his phone. "If he gets hurt, it's your fault and I will never forgive you." He dialed Catherine's number and pushed past Warrick to leave the room. Warrick hated himself right now; Nick was right, he was supposed to be with Greg no matter what until they caught everyone that was responsible for his attack. And now he was missing. What has he done?
While Nick was calling Catherine and Warrick was talking to security and the nurses, a barely conscious Greg was being wheeled down the hall in the basement where it was completely empty. A piece of tape was placed over his mouth, hidden by a surgery mask; tape was also wrapped around his wrists and ankles, but that was also covered by a sheet pulled all the way up to his chin. His face was sheet white and he was hardly breathing due to the fact that he was injected with so much morphine that he was close to overdosing. They were only another hallway away from the emergency exit when Greg's kidnapper heard the Code Red over the intercom, he grew frantic. This wasn't something he was used to…he wasn't used to kidnapping or killing someone. Panicking, he ran down the rest of the hall and once he reached the exit, he brought the sheet over the blonde's head, wrapping him up and slinging him over his shoulder. The second he opened the door, the alarm went off.
"Shit." Figuring the CSI was most likely either too close to death to be saved or already dead, he threw Greg's body in the dumpster and ran off into the distance.
Nick was pacing nervously, watching as Sara and Catherine were looking in Greg's room, trying to find prints if there were any. Grissom was looking through the security tapes and Warrick was still talking to the nurses. The fact that no one saw anything pissed him off. How the hell did no one see someone dragging Greg away against his will…unless he was incapable of struggling. Shuddering, Nick was about to go see if the girls found anything, when an alarm went off.
"What is that?" He said to a security officer.
"That's a fire alarm for an emergency exit." He spoke to a nurse who found out where it was originating from. "It's coming from the basement, left wing."
Nick gasped, sharing a look with Warrick before heading for the stairwell. That had to be Greg's kidnapper. He needed it to be, otherwise, they might never find the kid. He bounded down the stairs, Warrick, Catherine and Sara at his heels and when they reached the basement, they sped to the exit. When they got there, the door was wide open and there was an empty gurney against the wall.
"He must've gone out here," Nick breathed. They filed outside and glanced up and down the alley, finding nothing. "Dammit!" Greg was gone.
Warrick swore, scratching his head when something white caught his eye. It looked like the end of a bedsheet. "Hang on." The dumpster would be a perfect place to discard a body. Nick spun around as Warrick lifted the trash cover. "Oh no."
"What, what is it?" Nick choked. He strode over and looked down to see Greg's head popping out underneath a sheet, eyes closed and his face gray. "Get him out…get him out!"
Nick jumped into the dumpster and lifted the blonde's lifeless body out with the help of Warrick and Catherine. Sara was calling Grissom, telling him to get help fast. They gently laid Greg down, unraveling him from the sheet, removing the mask and all the tape.
"Oh god. Greg?" Nick whispered. Greg's lips were blue and when pressing his finger to the man's cold neck, he could feel that there was an extremely low pulse…but he wasn't breathing. "Greg! Come on, buddy!" Nick could feel the tears welling in his eyes as he grabbed Greg's face in his hands, gently shaking it. "Greg!"
One Week Later
Nick rubbed his unshaven face, staring at his best friend who had been in a coma for a week. The cameras had been disabled in the basement, so they had no way of knowing who attempted to kill their colleague- for the second time he might add. They had also been smart enough to wear gloves, because there were no prints on the door. Greg would just have to tell them…if he woke up that is. Whoever it was, they injected Greg with a lethal dose of morphine. He had stopped breathing for six minutes and his heart stopped for two. They almost lost him and the fact that it had been real made everyone sick. And he had refused to leave the kid's side until he woke up; the doctor said it was possible he wouldn't due to the fact he had been without oxygen for so long, but Nick wasn't giving up hope.
"Greggo…please, you gotta wake up. We need you…I need you." He hated this. Greg was so unlucky. The lab explosion, the beating and now someone was out to get him. Thankfully, the person hadn't tried again, mostly because there were cops everywhere and there were two people in the room at all times. They had screwed up once and nearly lost him, they weren't gonna let it happen again. Nick sat back in his chair and sighed heavily. It had been a horrible year. Glancing at his unmoving friend once more and at Catherine who was lightly dozing in the recliner, but would be up at the second she felt there was a threat, before standing up to go to the bathroom. Once he reached the door, however, he heard a small whimper come from the bed. His heart nearly stopped and he spun on his heel, briskly walking back towards the bed.
"Greg?" He grasped the kid's cold hand in both of his. "Greg."
Catherine jerked awake. "Nicky? Is he okay?"
"I think he's waking up." Nick cupped Greg's cheek. "Greggo, its Nick. Wake up, man."
Greg's chapped lips parted weakly and his voice came out small and hoarse. His eyes were still shut, but it looked like he was trying his best to open them.
"N-N'gh. Ni-Nick."
Nick laughed in relief, a smile appearing on his face. "Hey buddy. You gonna open your eyes?"
A tear suddenly made an appearance, dripping from underneath Greg's closed eyelid and dripping down his face. Nick frowned, sharing a worried look with Catherine.
"Greg, Hun? Are you okay?" Catherine said softly. "Are you in pain?"
"W-Where is he?" Greg sobbed.
"Where is who?" Catherine questioned.
"Aaron…J-James."
Nick froze. "What?"
"He's the one…who tried to k-kill me."
To be continued…
A/N: The next prompt for CamilaAlgo is about Aaron James being the suspect so I decided to make this story and that story into one (but basically a two part story) Stay tuned!
Next prompt for: CamilaAlgo
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