Trapped

Chapter Info: For Lea55ndra: How about Greg and Nick trapped in a collapsed building, beneath huge debris, metal and glass shards? Enjoy! Hope you like it!

Nick has not been in a good mood for a while now. Ever since Warrick was killed, his tolerance with anyone would be short. But Greg didn't think it was everyone…he felt as if it was just him. Nick hadn't even said so much as three words to him in the past two days and Greg was racking his mind to figure out what he did wrong. He was trying to be supporting for everyone, because they were hurting- and he was too, but he had to be strong- but Nick just seemed to want to push him away. And then they were assigned to a case together; normally Greg would be happy to work with his best friend, but not this time…and he was really questioning the term 'best friends.' The ride to the scene was also very awkward, Nick didn't even play his country music and when Greg shifted uncomfortably in his seat, Nick shouted at him to sit still. He really hated this; he had no idea what he had to do to get Nick to like him again.

"Go in the locker room and process, Greg, I'll take the office," Nick said bluntly as they got out of the car and walked into the building. "You think you can handle that?"

Greg frowned and stopped in his tracks. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Nick rolled his eyes and spun on his heels. "I'm just saying, you're not that good of a CSI and screwing up is your specialty."

That felt like a punch to the gut. How could Nick say that to him? "W-What?"

"You feel like you can take Warrick's place, but you can't. You're not my best friend and you are really getting on my nerves!"

Greg just stood there, shivering in fear. He hated when people yelled at him; it brought him back to that night when he was beaten up. His chest heaved as he looked down at his feet and pushed past Nick, wiping his eyes. Obviously the guy wished he had been killed instead of Warrick; well, Nick didn't have to fret, because he had wished the same thing too. Nick closed his eyes and sighed heavily as Greg disappeared inside; what the hell was he doing? Putting Greg down like that was not a way to help this situation. He wanted to talk and apparently Greg wanted to listen, but he just wasn't ready. He'd apologize to him later…like really apologize. He has been a complete ass for the past couple days and he needed to make it up to the kid. Clearing his throat, he followed the younger man inside the building, wanting this scene to be an in and out type of processing. While Nick processed the office, Greg had walked towards the back and into the locker room, shining his flashlight every to see if there was any evidence he needed to get. He was going to prove to Nick that he wasn't a screw-up and that he was a good CSI. I'll show him. He opened each and every employee's locker to see if there was a murder weapon hidden inside, but so far there was nothing. Greg sighed in frustration and prayed that the last locker would give him something. And it did.

"Finally," he grinned. Inside, there was a large bag on the top shelf and after he took a picture, he put down the camera and picked it up. He had been so excited to find something that he forgot he was not supposed to do that. Grasping it in one arm, Greg unzipped the duffel and immediately his body went cold. His breath hitched and his heart nearly stopped.

"Oh god." He was screwed. He was so fucking screwed. "Nick!"

Nick was in the process of collecting blood from the body when he heard Greg call out…and he sounded panicked. Placing the swab in his case, he stood up and went to the back where the kid was.

"What is it, Greg? I want to-" but then he saw the condition his friend was in. The blonde had a large bag in his arms, opened and from where he was standing he could see…a bomb. He froze in his spot, barely breathing in case it was ruin any chances of them getting out alive.

"How much time does it have on it, G?" He said, trying to be calm for the kid.

"F-Five minutes…N-Nick."

"Don't worry man, we're gonna get out of here. Just l-let me call bomb squ-"

"No!" Greg flinched, knowing he could risk the bomb going off. "D-Don't…there's not enough time. Y-You have to get out of here."

Nick frowned. "The hell I will; I'm not leaving you behind."

"You seemed to want to do that a couple days ago…or every other day since Warrick died."

"Greg…we can talk about this later, okay? J-Just…just put the bag down and let's go."

"There won't be a later…at least not for me. Nick, go…please."

"Greg," Nick voice cracked. "Don't do this to me. We can get out of this."

Tears slipped down Greg's cheeks as he shook his head. "No…and you're wasting time. I'm s-sorry Nick. I sc-screwed up just like you said I would. I know you hate me and I know you wish it was me that had been killed instead of Warrick and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Nick cut in. He shifted on his feet, his heart racing. He needed to get them out of there…now. "What are you talking about man? You know that's not true."

"Are you s-sure? Because it really feels that way; you put me down, push me away and I'm only trying to help. No matter what I do, you stomp on my efforts to try and cheer you up…and t-then earlier…y-you said that we're not even friends. So tell me again that it's not t-true." His arms were getting tired and he knew that at any time before the bomb went off that he could drop it.

"Greggo, I'm just…I didn't mean any of that okay, I'm just mourning."

"And you think I'm not!" Greg said rather loudly. "Warrick was my friend too you know. He was the one who taught me about being a CSI…he was my brother and now he's gone."

"He was my brother, too, G…and so are you. I can't lose another sibling…my little brother. I'm supposed to be watching out for you, but all I've been doing is hurting you. I am so, so sorry, buddy."

Greg swallowed thickly and looked down at the clock. 2:59. "Nick…there's two minutes left, but it's nice to know you don't hate me before I die."

"Greg, you're not gonna die!"

"Tell the others-"

"No, you tell the others! You're getting out of here and if you don't I'm staying with you. I'm not gonna let you die alone or I'm not gonna let you die period!"

Greg sniffed, sweat and tears dripping down his face. "N-Nick…I don't…I don't want to die."

"I know me neither. Now, this is what you're going to do…are you listening?" He moved closer to the blonde, swallowing thickly.

The young CSI nodded jerkily. "Y-Yeah."

"Okay, carefully move the bag into your right arm and then give me your hand."

And slowly, Greg did as he was told and soon the bag was in one arm and he was reaching out for Nick with the other. Nick stepped forward and grasped Greg's trembling hand in his. He gave the kid a small grin and breathed. "Okay, on my count of three, you're going to throw that goddamn bag as hard as you can all the way behind you and then we're going to run."

"N-Nick, that's not a good idea. Once it hits the ground-"

"That's why we're running." And hopefully make it outside in time. "Do you trust me?"

Greg hesitated for a moment before answering. "Y-Yeah."

"Good. On my count: one…"

Greg blinked, his breathing becoming erratic. 1:56.

"Two…"

He got ready to throw the bag and knew that even if they managed to get far away from the bomb, they still might not make it out of the building. He prayed that they would; he was just starting to become brothers with Nick again.

"Three! Now Greg!"

Greg jumped a little but he propelled the bag away and as soon as it left his fingers he felt Nick tug him towards the exit. Everything felt like it was in slow motion as they ran; blood rushed through his ears and he swore he could hear the bag hit the ground…but there wasn't much to hear because-

BOOM!

They were blown forward with the blast, heat covering his body. His hand slipped from Nick's as they were separated and pain hit his entire body. It felt like he was melting…and maybe he was; when he hit the ground, he couldn't see or feel anything besides something heavy on his body. He could barely breathe and he knew that this was it; he was going to die and he had dragged Nick with him. God, why didn't the guy just leave him? Greg felt disorientated and dizzy…it was just like after the lab explosion. Unconsciousness was starting to drag him into the darkness; with one last exhale, Greg's eyes slipped closed and he knew no more. He just hoped Nick was okay.

~+CSI+~

Pain hit him full on like a truck when he came to. Nick groaned and rolled his head on the ground, coughing when smoke entered his lungs. He blinked open his eyes and was met with nothing but darkness, debris and fog. He tried moving, but his entire body started throbbing and he just gave up. He listened for sirens, but his ears were ringing from the blast and it was hard to hear anything but. Wait, what did the blast come from? A bomb. Greg had been holding that bomb…and Greg was nowhere to be seen. Please god no. I can't lose two brothers. Ignoring his own injuries, he pushed himself onto his hands and knees- letting the nausea pass- before shakily standing up. However, he fell right back down to the floor when his leg gave out. Dammit, it's broken. Guess I'm crawling for now.

"Greg!" Sweat and possibly blood tricked down the side of his face, but he didn't care; Greg was more important right now. "Greg, buddy, can you hear me!?"

Silence.

"Son of a bitch. Greg!"

All of a sudden, he heard an extremely weak groan come from the other side of the room and his heart leaped in excitement. "I'm coming Greggo. Just hold on." Stiffly, he dragged himself over to the source of the noise and if he hadn't heard another moan, he would've gone right past the kid.

"Oh no." Greg wasn't moving. He was lying on his back, blood and dirt covering his face. Glass and metal shards were lodged into his arms and torso and…and a wooden beam lay across his waist, pinning him to the floor. "Oh shit, Greggo." He wiped his running nose- his bleeding nose- and gently slapped Greg's cheek to try and get him up. "Greg, wake up…please." But the kid wasn't budging and Nick was worried. He was barely breathing and there was blood coming from a wound on the side of his head. "Greg!" And despite his broken leg, he moved over to the end of the beam and tried lifting it up. It didn't move an inch.

After a few moments of silence, Nick sighed heavily and began to take off his jacket. Why the hell wasn't the man waking up? It made him question just how bad Greg hit his head and if it had been bad enough to instantly knock him into a coma. After placing his jacket over Greg's chest, tucking it around his shoulders, he also removed his vest and used it as a pillow under the young CSI's head. Once he was sure Greg was comfortable, he pulled out his phone from where he felt it in his pocket…smashed.

"Son of a bitch." He tossed it on the floor and tried to think of what to do next…maybe Greg's phone was still alive. Quickly, he looked through his friend's pockets and was disappointed to find the same situation. "Look on the bright side, Greggo, at least we can get new phones now." It wasn't as fun when it was only a one-sided conversation. Squinting through the dust, Nick sat down and scanned the room; everything was destroyed. The walls were broken, the ceiling was hanging down and dangerous, wires were loose and sparking and the air was thin. Nick coughed harshly and looked back down at his little brother. If he was already having a hard time breathing that meant it'd be worse for Greg…and he didn't have much time. He needed to start shouting to anyone who could hear. Greg was in trouble and if they didn't get out soon, the kid could die.

"Help! Can anyone hear me! I need help!"

Not even the crickets replied; only the sound of crackling electricity and groaning rubble.

"Help! Somebody!"

Nothing.

Nick was about to break down in tears, but he knew he couldn't…for Greg's sake. He had to be strong when the kid woke up- because he will wake up- so he could prevent him from panicking. Running a hand through his hair, he moved closer to the younger man and placed a hand over his cold one.

"Just hang in there, buddy, alright? I'm gonna get you out of here." Just please don't die on me.

Twenty Minutes Later

Greg hadn't moved a muscle for the past twenty minutes and Nick was beginning to grow tired, but he knew he couldn't sleep for two reasons. One, what if Greg woke up and two, he had a concussion and sleeping with a concussion was never a good thing.

"Greggo, can you hear me man?" He attempted again to wake him up, but to no avail, the kid remained motionless. "God, this is a nightmare. I'm so sorry, G. This never should've happened."

"Hello?! Is anyone inside? This is Las Vegas Fire Department!"

Nick's head shot up in surprise. Was it just his imagination or was someone really talking to him?

"We're in here! My name is Nick Stokes and Greg Sanders is also with me. We're from the crime lab."

"We can hear you! Just hang tight while we find a way to get you guys out. Oh, and I'll have one of my guys call your boss, Grissom."

Nick sighed in pure relief. If it hadn't been for his leg, he would've jumped up in happiness. They were going to get out of there alive. "Thank god. You hear that, man?" He turned to Greg, but all his elation disappeared when he saw how much worse the kid was getting. His face was no longer pale but had more of a grayish tint to it. Blood from his stab wounds was soaking his shirt and his breathing was becoming a lot shallower.

"Don't give up on me, Greg. I mean it. We have a lot of catching up to do and I can't do it without you." He squeezed Greg's hand before running his fingers through his blonde and somewhat blood crusted hair. "It's going to be okay, just keep on fighting." They sat there in silence for the longest time until Nick heard some crunching and then a familiar voice shout out.

"Nick! Can you hear me?"

The Texan smiled, crawling closer to the area of the sound. "Grissom, yeah I can! Thank god."

"You guys okay?"

Nick sighed. "I am…Greg's not doing so hot though. He hasn't woken up for the past hour."

"What happened?!" A voice he recognized as Catherine shouted out.

"Greg found a bomb in one of the lockers. He was holding it and…I talked him into throwing it behind him. We ran, but I guess we weren't fast enough. God this is my fault."

"Nick now's not the time for a guilty conscience," Catherine said. "We need you to be strong and Greg needs you to be strong. How bad is he?"

The Texan wiped his mouth. "Uh, there's a beam that fell on him and it's holding him down, he has metal shards in his body and probably a really bad concussion. He won't move at all…something's wrong."

"Keep it together, Nicky," Grissom warned. "We're gonna get you and Greg out to safety. What about you, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he lied. "Just a couple scrapes and bruises and a concussion; let's just-"

All of a sudden, a weak groan sounded out behind him and Nick knew that could only be one person. Turning around, he could see Greg shifting and his forehead creased in pain and confusion.

"Greg!" Ignoring the questioned shouts from Grissom, he clambered back over next to the man, placing a comforting hand on the side of his neck. "Greggo, can you hear me?"

And finally, the moment that he had been waiting for, Greg's eyes fluttered open, flicking around the room wearily.

"Greg."

The blonde's glassy eyes shifted to Nick's voice. "N-Nick?" He replied in a hoarse voice.

"Yeah, buddy," Nick smiled, running a hand through the kid's hair.

He looked around in confusion, a little bit a panic growing on his features. "What…what happened?"

"There was a bomb in one of the lockers. How much do you remember?"

"W-Was Warrick with us?"

Nick frowned immediately. "What are you talking about?"

"Did he stay at the lab or is he with Grissom?"

"Greggo," he was starting to get scared. "How much do you remember?" He repeated.

"I know I had a flight for my book signing…guess Grissom called me in."

Shit, Greg had lost nearly a week…before Warrick had been murdered.

"Nick, what's wrong. You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Greg I…I don't know how to tell you this but…Warrick's dead." It was something he never wanted to repeat to anyone or hear by anyone. He watched as Greg's face went from confused to shocked to sad.

"What? What are you talking about?"

"You've lost a week in your memory, G. He died- he was murdered- by McKeen; we went to his funeral, McKeen's in maximum prison…it's been a week man."

"Oh god," Greg whispered, tears trickling out onto his dirt covered face.

"I know man, I-"

"I can't feel my legs, Nick. Why can't I feel my legs?!"

"Greggo, calm down."

"How am I supposed to calm down? I can't feel my goddamn legs!"

"Greg! Jesus, take it easy before you hurt yourself! I'm sure it has something to do with the beam holding you down."

After looking at the bar that was across his body, Greg started to calm down and his breathing became less erratic. "S-Sorry, I'm su-such a wimp."

"No you're not, G. You wanna know what you did earlier?"

Greg just looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"It was stupid but…you were gonna sacrifice your life; you found the bomb and you were holding it. You told me to go but I wasn't leaving you. So tell me that's a wimp. You're the bravest guy I've known and even though I don't like you risking your life, I probably wouldn't have done the same thing."

Greg smiled weakly and rested his head back against Nick's vest. "A-Are we…have anyone found us y-yet?"

"Yeah, I just don't know how long it'll take." Because you don't have much time.

"I just hope they get us out soon, I'm feeling really…c-cold."

Dammit. "Just hang on G, okay? They're gonna get us out and then everything will be okay." He winced when a shot of pain coursed through his leg and his skull.

"Y-You okay?" Greg shivered.

Nick forced a smile. "Yeah, probably just the concussion I got."

"You should probably lay down then…d-do you want your jacket back."

"No, it's okay, man. You need it more than I do."

"Alright." And then Greg started to get comfortable. Soon enough, his eyes began to close, feeling drained from panicking and talking.

"Hey, no sleeping, Greggo; keep those eyes open for me."

"I'm trying, Nick…I'm just so exhausted."

"I know, but you have a concussion and you're bleeding badly; all the more reason for you to stay awake. Come on, talk to me here."

"'B-Bout what?"

"I don't know, anything."

"My throat hurts."

"Fine, I'll talk, you listen, but you have to reply every two minutes, deal?"

"Deal…c-can you…t-tell me about how Warrick was killed?"

Nick swallowed thickly, feeling tears in his eyes and anger at McKeen building up in his chest.

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Greg added, sensing the discomfort in the Texan.
"No, I will. But you have to promise to stay awake or I'll kick your ass."

"I promise," Greg grinned weakly.

Nick returned the smile and he moved over to Greg, gently picking up his head and placing it on his uninjured leg. Greg didn't seem to mind and neither did he; he wasn't losing his little brother now or ever. "Okay, so we went to a restaurant to celebrate the charges against Warrick being dropped. After you left, the others did too and Warrick must've went out to his car alone and…you still with me?"

"Yeah," Greg yawned, blinking to try and keep his eyes open. "Then what?"

"McKeen must've found him and shot him through the window. The bastard called it in, claiming he found Warrick like that…" Nick was so into what he was talking about that he didn't even notice Greg's eyes were slowly slipping close. He tried so hard to stay awake, but Nick's voice- his Texan drawl- was lulling him to sleep. The blood loss wasn't helping either. It was getting harder to breathe and he knew that if help didn't come soon, he was a goner.

"Grissom begged him to stay awake but…"

Soon enough, Greg couldn't hold on anymore and his eyes finally shut his body relaxing and his lungs no longer taking in oxygen. He was slowly dying and he hated that he would have to put Nick through losing another friend; another brother. I'm sorry Nick. I'm so sorry."

"I almost killed him; I was so close, but I didn't want to ruin my life for that piece of…" and then Nick remembered he was supposed to be making sure Greg was still listening. "Hey, Greg?" But he got no response and it made his heart nearly stop. He patted the man's face, starting to panic. "Greg?! Greg, wake up." His eyes were closed, his face was still losing color and…

"Oh no; please god no."

Greg wasn't breathing…and it was all his fault. "Greg!" Tears poured out onto his face and he tried desperately to wake his little brother up. This couldn't be happening, this couldn't be fucking happening. "Greggo!" He buried his hair and in Greg's hair and cried as hard as his body would let him.

All of a sudden, some rubble from the wall cracked and light shone through the room; they were being rescued.

"Help! Please, hurry, he's not breathing!"

"We're almost there," said a firefighter.

"Hang on, buddy," Nick whispered, running his hand over Greg's hair. "We're getting out of here." Two minutes later, the firemen broke through and immediately the paramedics came inside, taking Nick away from Greg. The firemen lifted the beam off of Greg and the medics instantly went to work.

"No!" Nick shouted as he was being forced onto a gurney and brought away from his little brother. "No, I need to stay with him."

"Nick! Nicky!" Grissom. The man came into his vision, placing strong hands on his shoulders. "You need to calm down. Greg's in good hands now."

"No, I need to be with him." He was suddenly outside, squinting at the bright sun. He could finally breathe though, but he didn't care…Greg wasn't doing the same thing. And past Grissom, he could see Greg's body being carried out and laid on the grass, the AED getting prepared. Not caring about his leg, he shakily stood up and hopped closer, watching as the medics tried to save his little brother's life.

"Still not breathing and there's no pulse."

"Fuck, Greg." Please don't do this. You can't leave me.

"Defibrillator standing by," another medic said.

"Ready," the first replied. "Get the pads on him and keep going with the ambu bag. And careful with that shard, we don't want to risk moving it."

Nick watched as pads were placed on Greg's chest and a large oxygen mask attached to a bag was placed over Greg's mouth. God, the kid looked like shit. When the medics opened up Greg's shirt, all he could see was blood, dirt, bruises and more blood. The metal shard was still lodged in his side and he was still as pale as a ghost. "Come on Greggo."

"Charging…everybody clear."

And Nick watched hopefully as Greg's body jerked with the electrical shock. He watched as the paramedic leaned down to check Greg's pulse and he prayed it'd be something good.

"Still nothing."

But when did they ever catch a break? "Greg, please."

"Clear."

Greg's body jerked again. And again. And again. But nothing was happening. After four minutes of trying, the medic sat back on his heels and wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Let's call it."

"No," Nick breathed. He couldn't be going through this again. He started crying again, his body shivering with shock. He felt really cold…but that was probably nothing compared to how Greg was feeling. He was feeling nothing at all. "Greg, please no."

"Time of death: 0605."

Nick couldn't feel his body. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't do anything. Greg had died; he had been so careless and stupid that he let Greg died. He heard someone screaming and he didn't realize it until now that it was him. He fell to his knees, ignoring the pain in his leg- it was going to be ruined from walking so much on it, but he didn't give a rat's ass. Greg was dead and there was nothing that he could do about it. He put his face in his hands and bawled until a sharp pain shot through his stomach and up to his chest. He couldn't take in a breath and his vision was tunneling. He could be dying, but honestly he didn't care; he had lost two brothers in two weeks and that was just heart-breaking. He didn't want to live anymore.

"I'm sorry, Warrick. I'm so sorry Greg. I failed the both of you." And with that, Nick tipped to the side, passing out before he even hit the ground. If both his brothers were dead, he was right behind them.

~+CSI+~

Three Days Later

He had to be dead; there was no way he survived that bomb…but what was that beeping noise? And how could he smell…disinfectant? This was not how he expected his heaven- or possibly hell- to be like. He had to see what was going on, because he was really confused. Slowly, he blinked his eyes open and was met with a bright light shining in his face.

"Mr. Stokes, are you with us?"

"Huh?" He felt something under his nose and brought a hand up to feel a nasal cannula. Oxygen, machines, a white room; now he knew where he was. The hospital. That meant he was alive. He glanced around the room and saw that Catherine and Grissom were standing by the table, looking at him with smiles…however, Catherine looked like she had been…crying? He tried to move so he can sit up, but his leg felt heavy and he looked down to see that there was a huge cast restraining him.

"You are a lucky man, Mr. Stokes," the doctor said and the Texan looked up in confusion.

"What?"

"You broke your tibia and your femur bone, the latter nicking an artery. You nearly bled out. Not to mention the severe concussion you obtained."

"H-How long have I been here?"

"Three days; you were starting to wake up so your friends called me. We also removed some of the glass that was lodged into your skin and given you antibiotics. So far, you are doing pretty well; you should recover in no time at all."

Nick nodded. There was something missing, but he couldn't quite put a finger on it.

"If you need anything, just press the call button on your right."

"Thanks Dr. Stewart," Grissom said.

Once the man left, Catherine went back to her seat next to Nick's bed. "Nicky, are you alright? You looked confused."

"Y-Yeah, I'm fine I'm…" and then it hit him. It wasn't something he was missing, it was someone. Greg. Tears began to fall from his eyes when he realized Greg was missing because he was dead. He had watched the paramedics unable to resuscitate the kid and call the time of death. It had been the worst moment of his life.

"Nick, what's wrong?" Catherine whispered, rubbing her hand up and down his arm. "Nicky?"

"Greg he's…he's gone isn't he." He couldn't believe he failed to protect yet another brother.

Catherine frowned and shared a look with Grissom. "No. He's not, sweetie."

Nick's forehead creased. "B-But I thought…I saw him die."

Grissom pursed her lips. "Yes he did, but they brought him back. You tried following his stretcher when he was taken outside, but you passed out."

What? God, he was so fucking confused; so the entire time when the medics couldn't get Greg back from the dead, he was really dreaming? A small relieved smile broke out onto his face as he wiped the tears away. "So…he's alive?"

Catherine smiled. "Yeah; you're both lucky boys."

Yeah they were really lucky. Greg was the lucky one for living after extensive injuries and he was lucky, because he didn't lose his best friend…his little brother. He had dreamed that Greg had died and he felt that it had been life's way of saying don't take the kid for granted. You really don't know what you got until it's gone.

"H-How bad was it?"

Grissom cleared his throat. "He had gotten a severe concussion and they were sure he'd go into a coma after falling asleep and flat lining, but-"

"Greggo's strong," Nick finished.

Grissom smirked. "Yeah, he is. He also got a metal shard lodged in his side, nicking his spleen. That's why he bled so much."

"What about the beam that trapped him? Did that do any damage?"

"It fractured his pelvis and stopped blood flow to his legs so they won't know what damage he has until he wakes up."

"Damage? Like what?"

Grissom rubbed his mouth. "Paralysis."

"Dammit. Where is he?"

"A few rooms down," Catherine sighed with a tired smile. "I take it you want to see him?"

Nick grinned. "You read my mind." But when Catherine brought in the wheelchair, he groaned in annoyance. "Really?"
"You want to walk with that giant cast on your leg?"

Nick chuckled. "I don't care how I get to Greg; I just want to see him." And as much as he didn't want to, Nick slid into the seat and let Catherine wheel him down the hall to see his little brother. By the time they reached the room, Nick was on the verge of jumping out of the chair; he had to see if Greggo was truly okay.

"Has he woken up yet?" The Texan asked as he was wheeled into the room.

"No, but he's fine; he's not in a coma, he's just unconscious," Grissom replied.

Nick swallowed and nodded as he was brought up to Greg's bedside. God, the kid looked like shit.

"We'll be right outside if you need us," Catherine whispered, gently squeezing the Texan's shoulder. The man barely acknowledged and once the two supervisors left, he turned to Greg and sighed heavily.

"Jesus Greg. I'm so sorry, man." He leaned forward and ran his fingers through the kid's blonde curls. "This never should've happened." Greg's face was extremely pale, dark rings lining underneath his eyes. His breathing was shallow even with the help of the nasal cannula. Cuts and bruises littered his face, arms and chest and a thick bandage wrapped around his midriff. Nick let his eyes trail down to the kid's legs and he sighed in sadness. Paralysis. Man that sucked out loud; if Greg had gotten paralyzed, he knew the CSI would be devastated…his life might even be ruined. Pursing his lips, Nick reached out and entwined his hand with Greg's.

"God, I'm so sorry. Listen to me; you gotta pull through, okay? I need you, Greggo and if you leave me I…I don't know what I'll do. Warrick's gone and I can't lose you, too. All that stuff I said…about you not being a good CSI and screwing up all the time…especially when I said I wasn't friends with you…it was a lie. I didn't mean a single word of it. You are the best at what you do and you shouldn't doubt that. And you are more than a friend; you're my little brother." He smiled weakly and stroked Greg's knuckles with his thumb. "Please wake up, G." But the only noise that came from the blonde was his scratchy breathing. After waiting for another couple minutes, Nick washed a hand down his face and sighed. As much as he didn't like to wait, he knew that Greg needed as much rest as possible in order to recover.

"Just take your time, buddy. I'm not going anywhere." Ever.

Two Hours Later

Nick was dozing off in the wheelchair, his hand still holding Greg's when he swore he felt movement inside his palm. He jerked awake and sat up with a grimace, but brushed off the pain because he knew Greg was waking up.

"Greg?" He searched the man's colorless face for something, but for ten long seconds nothing happened and Nick reluctantly leaned back in his chair. "Come on, G. Give me something here." He sighed heavily and looked towards the entrance as he heard a knock on the door.

"Hey Christine," he smiled weakly as the short nurse came in for the fifth time to check on Greg's vitals. So far, they were good, but things could change quickly.

"Hey, Nick. How're you doing?" She grinned as she adjusted Greg's I.V.'s, checked the oxygen and wrote some things down on her papers.

"Eh…I'd be better if he woke up." He squeezed Greg's hand encouragingly. Please Greggo.

"He will, don't lose hope. If he made it this far, he can make it past anything."

"Yeah." His Greg was strong as hell and he knew at some point that the man would open his big brown eyes.

"Alright, everything still seems to be stable; do you need anything?"

"Nah, I'm good."

Christine smiled warmly, patting the Texan on the shoulder as she passed him. "You know where I'll be if you do."

"Thanks." When the woman left, he turned back to his little brother and tried to smile. "I think she's starting to get a crush on you, G, and you're not even flirting with her." He looked down at the ground, closing his eyes. "Why is she trying to get with you when we both know the handsome one here is obviously me?"

"Keep d-dreaming, cowboy."

Nick frowned and his head shot up…and he was met with the best sight he had seen in a while. Greg was smiling weakly and his eyes were open; they were glassy, but who cared? The kid was awake!

"Greg! Thank god you're okay." He was about to get up and hug the man, but the cast was preventing him from standing without falling. Greg immediately picked up on Nick's discomfort and became worried.

"Are you o-okay?"

Nick chuckled. This selfless kid. "You nearly died, was pinned underneath a beam, stabbed and unconscious for three days and you're asking if I'm okay?"

"Are you?"

"Yeah man…god, it's good to see you awake, buddy. How are you feeling?"

"Confused…tired...and in pain."

"You want me to go get the nurse?"

Greg shook his head, swallowing and settling in the pillows. "No…she's just gonna give m-me more drugs that make me tired." He stared at Nick sleepily for a few moments before sighing. "Thanks Nick…for what you did back there. If you hadn't told me to throw that bag, I probably wouldn't be here right now."

"It was a stupid idea, G; I nearly got us both killed. You more than me."

"Yeah, but we weren't killed were we?"

You were. Nick remained silent.

"You saved my life Nick…thanks."

"Don't mention it, G." Though he still and would continue to feel guilty as hell. "And I'm sorry for everything I said to you. Don't you dare think for a second that you're not a good CSI…Warrick taught you well."

Greg smiled sadly at the name of their fallen friend. "Yeah…he did. But it wasn't just him you know. You helped, too."

"I would hope so; I was always smarter than him anyways," Nick joked lightly.

"Sure you were…I was smarter than the both of you, actually."

Nick laughed for the first time in weeks. "Uh huh, what's your I.Q genius?"

"182."

Nick looked shocked. "Damn."

Greg smirked. "What's yours genius?"

"Let's change the subject, huh?"

The blonde rolled his eyes and they sat in silence until Nick remembered something and sobered up. "Uh Greg, the doctor's probably gonna come in here soon and he's going to ask you something…but I don't want you to freak out, so maybe it'd be better if I ask you first."

Greg's forehead creased in fear. "W-What are you talking about?"

"Well, when that beam fell on you, it kinda crushed your pelvis and cut off some of your blood flow to your legs and-"

"I-I can't walk?" Greg began to panic. Now that he's come to think of it, he hadn't really been feeling his legs or even moving them…and he was a bit afraid to try. "Nick-"

"Hey, calm down, buddy. It's gonna be okay; we don't know that for sure. Try moving them."

"But what if-"

"Try, Greg," Nick smiled, taking Greg's hand. "It'll be okay, I promise. Whatever happens, it'll be alright."

Greg swallowed and nodded before focusing all his energy on moving his legs. And at first, when he tried, nothing happened and his heart rate increased. Nick squeezed his hands and he squeezed back.

"Try again."

"O-Okay." And once again, he did and just when he was about to give, up, his right leg twitched underneath the blankets. Then his left leg. His heart leapt in excitement and he turned to smile at Nick. The Texan was equally, if not more, relieved that the kid had not lost his ability to walk. Greg sighed, a huge weight being taken off his chest. Once they were both relaxed, Greg was looking up at the ceiling, slowly falling asleep.

"So…you think that nurse will ask for my number or yours?" He yawned.

"Hundred bucks it'll be me." Nick replied.

Greg smirked. "It's a bet."

FIN!

Hope you liked it!

Next Story is For: EarthtoAlex

Future Prompts:

Ashling Alroy

Joanne

Lil Badger 101

Marymel

Almost done! :)