Breathe

Next Prompt for: Meanxruki: Asthma story please! Set a couple days after 10x05 'Death and a Maiden.' Enjoy!

4:53am

Greg took a deep breath as he stepped into the crime lab. It had been a couple days after that confusing case where a kid got beat up and raped by his girlfriend's controlling brother. He had been glad he wasn't the one to process the scene or come face to face with the victim. Just thinking about and glancing at the pictures, made him sick. It had been three years since his own beating and he hated that he was still bothered by it. He didn't know why; why couldn't he stop being scared? Would he be freaked out every time he saw a beat up victim? Greg turned into the locker room and sat down on the bench. What if he never got over it?

"Hey Greg."

He flinched slightly and glanced up to see Nick standing in the doorway. "Oh…hey."

Nick frowned, clearly sensing something was wrong, and moved in closer. "You okay, bud?"

Greg forced a smile. "Y-Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Cause I'm your best friend and I can tell when you're not."

"Well, I am. I think I'm just tired."

"You sure?" Greg looked far from okay. His face was sheet white and his eyes appeared watery…like he was close to crying. Deep down, he had a feeling as to why Greg was being the way he was, but he didn't want to pry. Greg looked like he needed space and to not bring up the horrors of his past.

"Yeah I'm sure. So, what's up?"

"We got a grisly 415 down in Clark County. You up for it?"

Greg stood up, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants. "Yeah, count me in."

Nick smirked. Nothing could get this kid down…right? "Okay, grab your kit and meet me out front."

"Sounds good."

Nick smirked and left and the second he did, Greg's smile fell; 415 was assault and that meant someone was hurt. He just wondered how bad…and he wondered if he'd be able to handle it or at least keep it together. He had to; he couldn't let Nick think he was being weak. Taking a deep breath, Greg grabbed his things and walked out the door. When they got to the scene, it was in an alley and since it was still early in the morning and slightly dark, every alley looked like the one he was beat up in. But that didn't really bother him. What did bother him was the blood splattered onto the pavement and the wall.

"Jesus," Nick said, surveying the scene. "This sure looked personal."

"You're telling me," Brass said, coming up to them after finishing with the witnesses. "The vic, Peter Murphy, 26. Apparently, this is a shortcut home from work. I'm surprised he made it out of here alive. Apparently he was left for dead until that hooker over there found him lying in the trash bags."

"How's he doing?" Greg questioned, clearing his throat.

"Barely holding on. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't make it through the night."

Nick sighed heavily. "Alright, well let's get to work. Greg you can start processing over by the trash where Peter was found."

Greg bobbed his head. Thank god. Anything to get away from all that blood. Just the scent of it made him nauseous. God, what's wrong with me? When they finished, the two CSI's got into the car and drove to the hospital so they could get the evidence from Peter.

Nick was worried. Not only did Greg look like he was gonna be sick at the scene, but he was also unusually quiet. He could tell Greg was happy to not have to be near the majority of the blood, but it seemed like the whole thing still upset him. He was proud, however, of how well Greg could hold it together, but he also didn't like that the kid was bottling it up. He was also concerned that Greg never talked about his incident. Not even with him. Have they grown so far apart that Greg didn't feel the need to tell him things? Nick knew he had been kind of harsh to the blonde lately, especially the day after Riley quit…and when Greg congratulated him on becoming supervisor and all he said was 'thanks Greg.' They didn't even go out to celebrate. He remembered Greg asking if he wanted to do something and he had declined for a reason that seemed so stupid now. Wow, now that he thought about it, he's been a complete ass. Nick glanced over at Greg who was staring out the window. He needed to make it up to him somehow.

"Hey Greg?"

The man turned around. "Hmm?"

"You know," he said, pulling into the hospital entrance. "You can talk to me about anything, right?"

Greg's forehead creased at the random question. He really hoped Nick couldn't see what was really going on with him. They parked and Nick shut off the car; perfect time to escape. "Let's just get this over with, okay? We should really go collect the evidence." He hopped out of the car, grabbed his kit and headed for the entrance, leaving Nick shocked. He probably just made the Texan more suspicious, but he didn't care. He wasn't looking forward to seeing the condition of the victim, but it was his job. Pull it together, Sanders. It'll be over soon. Nick caught up with him at the elevator and thankfully, he didn't bring up what just happened, but now the ride up was just plain awkward.

"Peter Murphy," Nick asked when they got to the reception desk. "My name is Nick and this is Greg, we're with CSI to collect evidence. Is he out of surgery?"

"Oh, yes, we were told you guys were coming. Here's his clothes and everything he had on when he was brought in," she handed them a few bags. "And the nurse has waited on cleaning him up until you finished. He's in room 306."

"Perfect, thank you," Nick flashed a smile and they walked down the hall to the room. The second the two walked inside, Greg froze at the door, his heart thumping painfully against his chest. Peter looked horrible; his face was swollen and littered with dark purple, black, and red bruises. His lip was busted, his head was wrapped in a thick bandage and his left eye appeared swollen. It reminded him a lot of what he looked like three years ago…actually, it basically was him. And now he was trapped; his mind flashed back to that horrible night. Every punch, every kick, every scratch. It felt like it happened just yesterday. It felt like all his wounds were rising and if he moved, all he would experience was pain no matter how much drugs the nurses gave him. Sounds were muffled, his vision tunneled and his hands shook violently. Greg felt really sick all of a sudden and the blood in his body ran cold. He couldn't do this. He didn't care if it looked pathetic, but he couldn't do this anymore.

Nick walked up to Peter Murphy, getting ready to take some pictures when he realized Greg was not on the other side of the bed, but still by the door. And he looked like he had seen a ghost. Greg was staring at the victim, his hands trembling and his breathing was coming out fast and shaky. Frowning, Nick walked over.

"Greg?"

No response. He was sure Greg didn't even know he was standing right in front of his face. "Greggo? Greg, man can you hear me?" He touched the blonde's arm and Greg jerked away like he had just been burned. The younger CSI blinked rapidly, remembering where he was and then stared at Nick with haunted, watery eyes.

"W-What?"

"I was saying your name. Are you okay?"

Instead of replying, Greg bolted out of the room and down the hall to the nearest bathroom. Confused, Nick set his things down on the nightstand before following the younger CSI. When he entered the bathroom, he found Greg on his knees in front of the toilet, heaving violently. Pressing his lips together in sympathy, he grabbed a paper towel and then squeezed into the stall, squatting next to Greg, waiting for him to finish. It lasted a good two minutes before Greg's body was left quivering and he was drained of all his energy. Nick placed a hand on the kid's back, rubbing it comfortingly. Greg closed his eyes, resting his forehead on his arm until he felt better enough to talk.

"S-Sorry," he muttered.

"It's okay, bud. Just…tell me what's going on. You've been acting weird all day."

Greg opened his eyes and Nick handed him the towel to wipe his face. The blonde took it gratefully and spoke, though avoiding eye contact. "E-Ever since…ever since we had that assault case a few days ago…the one where the kid had gotten raped by his girlfriend's brother…I just couldn't shake the image. Even though I wasn't the one to process him, I saw the pictures and all I could…could think about w-was…" tears formed in his eyes and he started to panic again. "I can't stop going back to that night and t-then seeing this guy." He looked up at Nick. "I can't do this, Nick. I'm sorry, I can't do it."

"Hey, hey, hey. Don't worry about it. I completely understand and it's not your fault."

Greg sniffed, but didn't reply.

"I know what you're going through, Greg. I was the same way after I was buried alive. I couldn't go in tight places for almost a couple years."

"But it's been three, Nick. Why can't I get over it? I should be over it, but…I'm sorry, I'm being pathetic."

Nick put his hands on Greg's shoulders. "You're not being pathetic. Sometimes it takes a little longer, okay? And sometimes, I'm not over it either; there are times where I become claustrophobic in small areas. What you went through was horrible. We both went through near death situations, but we're both okay. The people who hurt us are gone forever. I know after you came back you were putting on a happy face, but you were struggling. I regret not doing anything about it, but…have you talked to anyone about what happened?"

Greg shook his head. "No."

"Well, you should. Even if you just talk to me, it'll take a huge weight off your shoulders. I was skeptical about talking to a shrink, but when I did…I felt so much better."

Greg pursed his lips and took a deep breath, smiling weakly. "Thanks Nick. Sorry for freaking out in front of you like that."

"Don't apologize, man. It's okay." He stood up and he helped Greg get to his feet. "Why don't you go wait in the car and I'll finish up with Peter."

"Okay." Greg felt embarrassed that he couldn't do a simple task.

"Hey, stop worrying about it, Greggo," Nick said, squeezing his arm. "You can take his clothes and go sit in the car, I'll be done in ten minutes."

The blonde nodded and they both left the bathroom, going separate ways. As Nick walked back to Peter's room, he clenched his jaw angrily. He was pissed. Not pissed at Greg, but pissed at the assholes who hurt the kid. He hated that something that happened three years ago still had this much of an effect on his friend. The poor guy didn't deserve it and he wished he had beaten the shit out of Pig the day they had arrested him. Jim had told him he'd regret it, but he knew he wouldn't have. Once he finished getting all the evidence, Nick thanked the nurses and went back outside to the car. When he got to the Denali, Greg was sitting in the passenger seat, the door open and his eyes closed. Nick touched his shoulder and Greg jumped, visibly startled.

"Easy, buddy, it's just me."

Greg sighed, wiping a hand across his face. Nick gave him a wary look before going to put his things in the trunk, while also grabbing a water bottle. He handed it to Greg, the blonde quietly thanking him and taking a few sips.

"I would suggest you take a few days off, but knowing you, you'd actually hate it."

Greg smirked weakly.

"Maybe you should hop in on Catherine's case. I heard it was just a homicide."

Greg chuckled humorlessly. "You'd think a dead body would bother me more than an assault victim."

Nick just smiled sadly. "And after we're both done, we should go out later tonight to forget about everything. We haven't hung out in ages and I miss it."

Greg hesitated, but after a few moments, he agreed. "Okay. Yeah, that sounds like fun."

"Good," Nick grinned, patting the blonde's shoulder. "Alright, let's go."

As they drove back to the lab, Greg was still pretty quiet, but Nick was just glad Greg had talked to him about what was going on.

"Hey Nick?" Greg said suddenly. "What am I gonna tell Catherine? She's gonna wonder why I'm switching."

"Tell her I was being an asshole to you," Nick smirked and Greg rolled his eyes. "Do you want me to tell her? And then I'll ask her not to bring it up."

"You don't think she's gonna act differently towards me?"

"I got you covered, G. Don't worry."

Greg smiled and the rest of the drive was silent once more.

~+CSI+~

7:23am

Nick did have him covered. Catherine let him on her case with no questions asked and Greg was feeling a little bit better. The scene they went too was pretty grimy and dusty, but anything beat dealing with an assault victim.

"Alright," Catherine began. "Ray, you go upstairs and see if there's anything. Greg, you start processing downstairs. There's a trail of blood leading into the basement."

"Okay." He started taking pictures of the blood trail until he made it all the way down to the cold, musty basement. There were some more blood drops on the floor, but nothing else. Maybe the killer was injured? He swabbed the fluids with ease and then went back to exploring. The window was smashed open, indicating the suspect must've escaped through there and Greg knew there had to be some prints or more blood on the broken glass and window frame. However, whoever killed their victim must've been tall, because a guy his height wouldn't be able to reach even with a boost from the chair. Greg bit the inside of his cheek, looking around to see what else he could use to get himself up higher. He put down his camera when he saw a shelf of boxes in the corner. Greg began to pull the boxes off the shelf, but one seemed to get caught and suddenly the whole thing came toppling down onto him. Dust surrounded him like a thick fog and Greg quickly found that he couldn't breathe…and then he remembered he didn't have his inhaler. No one knew about his asthma besides Catherine since she caught him using his medication once. But Catherine was upstairs, would she hear him? Would she have a spare inhaler? Oh god, he was going to die.

"Greg. Greg! It's Catherine, look at me! Just breathe, Hun, I got an inhaler." Catherine had been taking pictures upstairs when she heard a commotion come from the basement. She let her hand hover over the gun while walking over to the door. She had called out for Greg, but the only answer she got was frantic gasping. Heart fluttering, she ran down half the stairs to see him on his hands and knees, choking and coughing, his face purple and his lips blue. Asthma attack. "Shit." She ran back upstairs, grabbed the extra inhaler she kept for emergencies such as this and rushed back downstairs. The blonde tried to get Greg's attention, but was getting nothing and had to force the inhaler into the younger man's mouth and pushing down on the canister a few times.

"Breathe, honey, just breathe, I got you."

Greg's body trembled violently, but his breathing got a little better. Tears trickled down his pale face while he leaned into Catherine. She rubbed his back soothingly, giving him one last puff of air to be safe. "You're okay now, Greg. Just deep breaths. There we go, in and out. That's it." After five more minutes, Greg sagged, completely exhausted.

"You okay?"

"Y-Yeah," Greg replied breathlessly.

"What happened?"

"B-Boxes…fell…dust." He looked up at the woman. "T-Thanks…saved my…life."

Catherine smiled. "You're welcome."

He felt like shit. This whole day had been a complete disaster. He was ready for a nap; Greg hated that the attacks always made him so tired.

"Why don't you go home; I can drive you."

"Catherine-"

"I know Nick told me not to say anything, but after what happened today at the hospital and this past week, I'm giving you permission. I know you don't feel well, either, you can't hide these things from me, Greg."

The blonde grumbled, but was secretly grateful. "Okay…but can you not tell Nick about this? If he asks, just tell him I got sick or something."

Catherine pursed her lips but nodded. "Alright, can you stand?"

"Yeah."

Catherine helped Greg to his feet and fifteen minutes later, Catherine was dropping him off at his apartment. The second the blonde hit the pillows, he was out like a light. When he woke up, it was because someone was knocking loudly on his door. He stiffly pushed himself up from the bed and stumbled towards the front of his apartment. He glanced at his watch and realized he had slept for a good nine hours. Damn. Greg opened the door and squinted his eyes as the hallway's bright light spilled into his apartment.

"Nick? What are you doing here?"

"Coming to see if you're okay. I return to the lab only to see you're not there and Catherine telling me you got sick."

Greg sighed. "Yeah, sorry. I guess that panic attack made me more tired than I thought."

Nick looked at Greg suspiciously. Once again, the kid was hiding something from him. "Oh, well do you want to do a rain check on tonight then?"

Greg stared at the Texan for a minute. "No, I want to get out. You're right, I need to forget about all this. Just hang on and I'll get changed."

Nick bobbed his head and leaned against the doorframe as Greg disappeared into his room. His plan was to get the man drunk enough so that he would spill the truth about what's been going on lately. He got some answers, but the CSI was still holding back. It didn't take long for Greg to change and soon they were on their way to the bar. It was a new place that that neither one of them had been to, but it was local and cheap. They ordered beer first, but then Nick bought them a few rounds of shots. It was all going well until a biker gang came in all rowdy and smoking cigars. Nick was annoyed, but didn't let it get to him…however, for Greg, the tobacco smoke was disturbing and after already having an asthma attack earlier that night, his lungs were already pretty weak. He took another sip of vodka to hopefully clear his throat, but for some reason it made it worse. He choked and Nick slapped him on the back with a chuckle.

"You're supposed to swallow your drink, not inhale it, Greggo."

Greg chuckled nervously, assuming that's all it was and drank the rest of the liquid. Then there was tickle in the back of his throat and his chest grew tight. This was weird. He inhaled to take a breath, but all his got was a lung full of cigar smoke. He started coughing violently and his face grew hot. Oh god, not again.

"Greg, you okay man?"

"Y-Yeah," he choked. "I ju-just gotta get some air. I'll b-be right back."

"You want me to come with you?"

"N-No, I'm good. I'll be right back, I promise."

Nick was skeptical as he watched Greg slide off the stool and headed towards the exit. He was a little concerned especially when the kid was getting red in the face. But for the moment, he would respect the blonde's wishes.

Greg stumbled out into the cool night wheezing. He would hope, that once he got away from the stuffy, smoke filled bar and out into fresh air, he would feel better. However, he didn't; every puff of air if let out, it was so much harder to get back in. It felt like he was breathing through a mud clogged straw. He was already woozy and nauseous from the drinks and it did nothing to help his oncoming asthma attack. His vision began to tunnel and his chest got tighter; he was dying and there was no one outside to help. Greg tripped into the alley next to the bar and collapsed against the brick wall before falling to his knees, unable to take a proper breath. He should've let Nick come outside with him. But he wouldn't know what to do…he didn't tell the Texan about his earlier asthma attack or the fact that he had this problem in the first place. God, he was an idiot. Tears dripped down his face and knew that his last breath was coming soon.

Nick glanced down at his watch nervously. It had been awhile since Greg gone outside and the brotherly instinct in him said that something was seriously wrong. He tossed a few tens on the bar to pay for the drinks before pushing through the crowd to get outside. He was expecting to see Greg right out front, but the kid was nowhere to be seen.

"Greg?" His heart thumped worriedly against his chest. "Greg!" And that's when he heard it. The strangled wheezing in the alley and his worse thoughts came to mind. Someone could be attacking his best friend and he had still been drinking in the bar. He jogged around the corner, ready to confront the threat, however all he saw was Greg on his hands and knees, shaking and gasping for air. Upon getting closer and squinting in the dim light from the street lamp, he noticed Greg's tear-streaked face was pale and his lips were a disturbing color of blue.

"Shit. Oh, shit Greggo. What's wrong, man, talk to me!"

Greg looked up at him and all he saw in the dark brown eyes was fear and pain. He tried slapping the blonde's back, but it didn't nothing to help the situation. "Greg, oh god, what do I do? I don't know what to do; I don't know what's wrong!" He was fucking terrified. Greg was dying and he felt so clueless.

"Ni-Ni…" Greg said, barely over a whisper.

"What? What is it, bud. What are you trying to tell me?" He could see Greg was close to passing out. His eyes were threatening to roll to the back of his head and his body was sagging.

"A-Asth-m-ma."

Nick's eyes widened. "Shit. Alright, we need to get you to the hospital. Do you have an inhaler or something?"

"N-No."

"Great." He had to hurry. Greg didn't have much time. "Okay, I'm gonna wrap your arm around my neck and lift you up. Ready?" When he didn't get a response, he realized Greg's eyes were nearly closed. "No, no, no. Greg! Don't you give up on me." He hoisted the blonde to his feet, wrapping an arm around the skinny waist before running to the car. He quickly unlocked it, opened the door and gently put the barely breathing man inside. Once Greg was buckled in, Nick ran around to the driver's side, started the car and peeled out of the lot. He put his sirens on, forcing other drivers to the side of the road.

"Hang on, Greggo, hang on!" He shouted, swerving in and out of the late night traffic. Greg was gasping unevenly and his lips were turning blue. Nick reached over and slapped the man's face.

"Greg, don't quit on me, buddy. Just keep breathing, in and out. Don't stop. Please don't stop breathing. You can't die on me."

Nick finally screeched to a stop in the front of the building, relieved that there were no ambulances in the way. He turned to Greg and noticed the kid had tipped forward and the Texan was becoming more frantic as the blonde's breathing hitched. He pushed Greg back against the seat before jumping out.

"Hey, this isn't a parking spot," an attendant said, coming out of the building.

"I know, I know, I just need help, he's having an asthma attack."

The attendant looked as Nick opened the passenger side; upon seeing Greg's condition, his attitude changed. "Wait, don't move him. I'll go get a nurse."

Nick sighed through his nose and stayed by Greg's side. His breathing was barely existent and his face was transparent and clammy. "You're gonna be okay, man. Please be okay; you're not allowed to die on me, alright?" His gasps were coming out short and choppy and Nick was getting anxious. Where were the damn nurses? He swallowed and cupped Greg's face in his hands. "Greggo, please." But instead of breathing, the blonde took in one last weak gulp of air and then stopped breathing entirely.

"Oh god, no. Please no. Greg!" He shook the man's shoulders violently. "Greg, wake up! Please wake up!" He begged, tears forming in his eyes. He heard the hospital doors open, but he couldn't bring himself to leave his friend. He bowed his head, clutching Greg's hand. He had failed. I'm sorry, Greg. I'm so sorry.

~+C+~

6:45pm

Nick was in shock. He couldn't believe he didn't know about Greg's asthma; how could he not know? He and Greg had worked together for years and now he was just finding out? He had called Catherine at some point, but he couldn't remember what time that had been or when she'd get here. He just knew that it had been nearly half an hour since Greg was pulled from the seat, moved onto the gurney and an oxygen mask put in place. They asked him questions that he answered quickly, remaining close so he could keep his eyes on Greg until he disappeared behind the doors. He knew he should probably be filling out the forms the nurse gave him and he thought he could, but the questions just got harder. He didn't know as much as he thought about Greg. Catherine was supposed to fax over the medical records before heading over. He got up and paced the room, constantly glancing up at the clock. He was scared; what if they couldn't get Greg back? What if he was in a coma? What if-?"

"Nick!"

He blinked and saw Catherine walking towards him, Sara and Ray right behind her. Finally. "Hey." He was exhausted.

"What the hell happened? Catherine huffed. Last she knew, Greg was at home sleeping off his asthma attack, how did Nick get to the kid and to the hospital so fast?

"Greg and I, we were at the bar. Ever since the Tommy Baker case, he's been acting different. I think it was bringing him back to his own beating and it's been hitting him hard. I wanted to take him out for drinks, you know, to cheer him up and to start hanging out, because we haven't really done so in a while. He was fine when we were drinking and then these bikers came in, bringing a cloud of cigar smoke in with him. Greg seemed more bothered by it than I did so he went to get air. I was worried after a few minutes and followed him; he was outside and he couldn't breathe. He was having an asthma attack. That's when I drove him here and then called you…he…he stopped breathing. There wasn't anything I could do, I just…I felt so helpless."

"You got him here, Nicky," Catherine sighed. "That's all that matters."

"Since when did Greg have asthma? Does he know about it?"

"Yes he does," Catherine replied. "And I do too. I should've made him go to the hospital after what happened at my scene today."

Nick gave the blonde a look with wide eyes. "What are you talking about? And how come you know but neither of us do?" Especially me.

"I caught him using it once, but he begged me not to say anything. I didn't only because he said he'd put it in his file and carry around an inhaler. But he hasn't been good about that lately."

"What happened at your scene?" Sara asked.

"He was in the basement processing and apparently a bunch of boxes fell around him and kicked up dust. I found him choking on the floor and luckily I carry around an extra inhaler in case. That's why I sent him home. He's usually tired after an attack."

"God…" Nick said, running a hand through his hair. "Why the hell didn't he tell me?" There were hundreds of times that Greg was at a scene with him, hundreds of times were something could've triggered an asthma attack and he never would've known what to do. Just like today. All he did was get Greg here. Otherwise, he felt pretty useless.

"Mr. Stokes?"

They all turned around to see Greg's doctor walking towards him. He took a deep breath and prepared for the inevitable. "Yes?"

"I'm Dr. Nathan. You're the one who brought in Mr. Sanders, correct?"

Nick nodded. Come on, doc, out with it already. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"He will in twelve hours. We have him intubated for the time being until the medications we have him on start kicking in and getting the asthma under control. The attack had been very life-threatening, Mr. Stokes; if you had gotten him here any later, it might've been too late."

Nick choked. He didn't even want his mind to go into that scenario.

"Once his symptoms get better, we'll keep him under observation for another twelve hours to make sure he doesn't have any setbacks. After that, he'll be able to go home, preferably, into someone's care, at least for a few days or so. When he does leave, he's going to be in a daze, definitely sore, out of breath from time to time and extremely exhausted. Don't be surprised if he sleeps a lot more than normal for the next week and a half."

"Can we sit with him?" Sara asked.

"We've sedated him at the moment so he can sleep through the worst of it, plus not feel the tube down his throat. I suggest you guys go home for the rest of the night and come back in twelve hours, that way he'll be off the sedatives and possibly awake and coherent."

Nick didn't want to leave. He wanted to see Greg; he wanted to be sure that the kid was really gonna be okay. Just hearing about the blonde's condition wasn't doing much to calm him down.

"Nicky, come on, you can stay at my place for the night," Catherine said.

"No, I'm not leaving until I can see him."

"You're gonna stay here for twelve hours?" Sara scoffed.

"Yes," Nick snapped back.

"Tell you what," Dr. Nathan said. "I can let you see him through the window, but that's it, okay?"

Nick swallowed and nodded.

"Alright, follow me."

The group followed the doctor down the hallway and all of them were nervous as to what they would see. But none of them were as nervous as Nick. He couldn't believe the kid was on a ventilator…that he couldn't breathe on his own. Jesus Greggo. When they reached Greg's room, the doctor waved to the window and they all turned to peer inside.

"Oh man," Nick whispered. He was heartbroken. Greg looked so small in that bed surrounded by the huge machine and a bunch of tubes and wires. His hair was flat, his face was void of all color and his lips were still a slight tint of blue. He looked miserable. Nick bowed his head; this should never have happened. He never should've dragged Greg out. This was his fault and he didn't think he could ever forgive himself.

12 ½ Hours Later: 7:30am

"He's still asleep, but we've removed the tube and he's breathing on his own, albeit it's a little uneven and scratchy. He's going to be just fine. He has the nasal cannula, but if he gets out of breath, there's an oxygen mask by his bed."

Nick nodded before they all filed into the room. Greg was indeed still sleeping and the color was finally returning to his skin. He still looked worn-out, but Nick was just glad the kid was alive. That's all he wanted.

"Hey buddy," Nick whispered even though Greg wasn't awake, clutching the CSI's hand. It was cold. "I'm so glad you're okay. You scared me."

"He's gonna pay for not telling us," Sara muttered, brushing back some blonde strands.

"And I'm sorry for not telling you guys, either," Catherine said. "I should've known he'd be too stubborn to bring an inhaler around anywhere. That's why I do."

Nick nodded. He was gonna have to do the same, apparently. But once Greg woke up, he had a lot of questions to ask. Like why he didn't know about the asthma? He turned back to Greg and sighed; Catherine came up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"He'll be okay, Nicky. Do you want some coffee?"

He washed a hand down his face. "Um, sure. Black, please."

"Sara?"

"Actually, Ray found something on our case. I'm gonna shoot back to the lab, but I'll be back later to kick Greg's ass."

Nick smirked as he sat down next to the bed. Once he was alone, he just watched Greg sleep. He knew it was strange; he knew that if, at any time, the kid woke up and saw him, he'd be creeped out, but he just couldn't shake the image of Greg not breathing…his lips blue and his face ghostly white like he was a corpse. It was the worst thing he had ever experienced. He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to forget it and took Greg's hand again. They used to be so close. What happened between them?

Two hours later, Catherine had left, but Nick remained. He wasn't leaving his friend's side. He was dozing in his chair since he hadn't slept in nearly a day; he had stayed at Catherine's the other night, but he just couldn't close his eyes without seeing the image of Greg nearly dying. He suddenly felt a twitch in his palm and Nick jerked up in surprise. "Greg? Greg, can you hear me?" The blonde moaned and his forehead scrunched up. "Greggo, open your eyes for me, bud." It took a few moments, but Greg's eyes finally blinked up at him, still cloudy with the drugs in his system.

"Nick?" His voice was scratchy and weak from the abuse the swelling had caused.

"Hey man."

Greg squinted and looked around stiffly. He couldn't really remember what happened, but it looked like he was in a hospital. His whole body ached, his throat was dry and tight and head hurt. There was only one other time he felt like this and that was when he had a really bad asthma attack when he was twelve, so…shit. He looked back at Nick who was smiling sadly.

"I had an asthma attack didn't I."

Nick sighed. "Yeah."

"Was it bad?"

Nick just nodded. It being 'bad' was an understatement. "Do you remember when it happened?"

Greg sat up stiffly and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. "We were at the bar, right?"

"Yeah and some assholes came in smoking cigars."

"Oh yeah…I went outside and that's all I remember. Everything else is blank."

"You were having a hard time breathing…I didn't know what to do, because you never told me you had this problem. You also didn't tell me you had an attack earlier that day."

Greg looked down at his hands, clearly ashamed. Nick sighed and continued to speak.

"Greg, why didn't you say anything? Why didn't you tell me about this?"

The blonde still kept his eyes down. "I didn't think you'd care."

"What? How could you think that?"

"I…I wasn't sure that we were even friends anymore. I just hasn't seemed like it lately; I don't know if because I've annoyed you or pissed you off somehow or maybe you wish I had died instead of Warrick or-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on. Don't you dare think that, Greg. Don't you dare. I would never want that to happen to you. Ever." He grabbed the blonde's hand tightly. "If something like that happened to you, I…I think it would kill me. You're like a little brother to me and I'm supposed to protect you. But I haven't been doing a good job of that lately…and I also understand how you could think that. I know I haven't been a good friend lately, but I promise we still are. I just…I wish you would've told me about this. When you couldn't breathe, I was terrified; I didn't know what to do. I got you to the hospital just in time, otherwise…"

Greg pursed his lips. "I'm sorry, Nick. I know I should've said something."

"I'm just glad you're okay, buddy," The Texan said before bringing the smaller man into a gentle hug. "Though, you better start carrying around your inhaler."

"I know, I know."

They pulled apart and Nick gave Greg a stern look. "I mean it, kid, or else."

Greg yawned, but grinned. "Or else what?"

"Or else I'll make you wear it around your neck every single day."

Greg rolled his eyes and laid back into the pillows. He knew he was going to have no energy whatsoever and probably out of breath, but he felt a little better knowing things with Nick had been squared away.

"Get some sleep, Greg. The doctor said you'll be able to leave later tonight."

Greg smiled weakly before closing his eyes and relaxing into the pillows. Nick let out a deep breath; he never knew Greg had felt that way…that he had come off making the kid think he wanted him, rather than Warrick, dead. He really needed to change his attitude; and there had to be a way to make it up to him.

7:34pm

Nick and Greg walked into the Texan's apartment slowly but surely. Greg was sore, exhausted and easily out of breath. Nick hated that the kid was feeling this bad and there was really nothing either of them could do about it.

"Almost there, man," Nick said, as they walked to towards the guest room. Once they finally got there, Greg collapsed on the bed and tried to catch his breath.

"Easy, Greg, easy. I got your inhaler." Nick rummaged through Greg's duffle before finding the prescription bag. He pulled the inhaler out and handed it the blonde. Greg took it in his shaking hands and administered a few puffs before he began to feel better.

"T-Thanks."

"No problem. Do you want something to eat? Or maybe watch some TV?"

Greg shook his head. "M'tired."

Nick pressed his lips together sadly. "Alright, well get changed while I get you a glass of water."

Greg nodded and once Nick was gone, he weakly pushed himself from the bed, grabbed a t-shirt and some sweatpants and changed. By the time he was done, he was out of breath once again. God, he hated feeling like this. Sometimes, the aftermath seemed worse than the actual attack. He sat back down, got underneath the covers and sunk back against the pillows. He didn't realize he had closed his eyes until he was being shook.

"Sorry," Nick said with a sheepish grin, handing him a cup of water. Greg took it gratefully with a smile.

"Do these…these attacks always make you like this?"

Greg finished the drink and gave the glass back to the Texan with a nod. "Unfortunately, yeah. I've heard, sometimes it could take months to get back to normal, but usually in two or three weeks I'll feel better. It just sucks, you know? I can't do anything without getting tired or breathless."

"I'm sorry, bud. I hate that you're going through this; I wish I could trade places with you."

Greg chuckled and shifted on the bed to be comfortable. "No you don't, trust me."

Nick smiled at the light humor and squeezed Greg's arm. "Well at least Catherine gave you a couple weeks of vacation to recuperate. I'm just glad you're okay."

"Me too." He gave the Texan a quick onceover; the man looked exhausted. It made him wonder how long Nick had gone without a good night's sleep…now he felt bad.

Nick made his way to the door until Greg's voice stopped him.

"Hey Nick?"

The older man turned, raising his brow and waiting for Greg to continue.

"I'm sorry, again, that I didn't tell you about my asthma. I can't imagine what you went through."

Nick sighed and moved back into the room, sitting by the blonde on the edge of the bed.

"It's okay…well, it's not okay, but at least I know now. You scared the hell out me, buddy. I never want to go through something like that again and I don't want to watch you suffer like that again, either, and not be able to help you. You can talk to me about anything, Greg, I'll be here for you. Don't forget that. No matter how angry or unapproachable I may be at times, I'm always here for you."

Greg smiled tiredly. "I know. I promise I'll be more careful."

"Good. Now get some rest, you look like crap."

Greg snorted. "Thanks for the compliment."

Nick laughed, slapping Greg's shoulder and standing up. When he reached the door, he was about to ask Greg another question, however when he looked back, the kid was already fast asleep. He smiled, turned off the light and walked to the kitchen. The first thing he was doing tomorrow was going to get another inhaler so he had one on hand just in case. He knew that Greg was pretty forgetful when it came to his own health; that's just the kind of selfless man he was and he admired that, but hated it at the same time. He would let Greg know about it eventually, but for now, he wanted the device so he didn't have to feel as helpless as he did a couple days ago. He wasn't losing that kid to either one of their stupidity. Once he cleaned up the apartment a little, he went to go take a shower, got dressed and climbed into bed. Nick's muscles relaxed and he let his eyes close. Almost half an hour passed and he couldn't fall asleep; he knew Greg was fine and breathing in the other room, yet they were still in the early stages after the attack and he was nervous. This was all new to him, anything could happen. Sighing heavily, he slid out of bed, grabbed a pillow and blanket and shuffled to the guest room. Greg was sleeping peacefully, though his breathing was still raspy. Nick stood there for a moment making sure the slow rise and fall of the CSI's chest didn't stop; when he was satisfied, he tossed the pillow on the floor next to the bed and laid down. The ground wasn't particularly comfortable, but he didn't care. Once he got settled, he closed his eyes and finally felt relaxed.

"Goodnight, Greggo."

FIN

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