Author's Note: Just FYI, this story actually takes place in 2009. Back then, the football games were held at Sam Boyd Stadium, in Whitney, Nevada (about 25 mins from the Las Vegas Strip). Boyd Stadium closed in 2020, and all games were moved to the present Allegiant Stadium in Paradise, Nevada. I also want to clarify that I know The Raiders were not an official Las Vegas team until 2020 (they were originally Oakland's team), and this is not consistent with the timeframe of this fic, but I just really, really liked the sound of The Las Vegas Raiders, and the look of the team's logo. So, please bear with me.
Chapter 10: Because We're Family
"Nick! What are you doing here?" Greg exclaimed when he answered the knock on the door of his apartment. He was thoroughly surprised and yet excited to find his friend at his doorstep. He and Nick always got along great, but he never expected him to come for a visit. He had to curb his enthusiasm because this was the most eventful thing that has happened all week.
Grinning, Nick was standing in the doorway looking very smart in an oversized black and silver Las Vegas Raiders football jersey worn over a long sleeve thermal top casually untucked over a pair of denim jeans. Greg was met with the logo on Nick's shirt of a smiling one eye-patched pirate face wearing a football helmet with two swords crossed behind him. Greg thought it was a curious outfit for Nick to wear to work later.
"It's my day off today! I'm not due back at the lab until tomorrow night. I thought I'd drop by and see what you're up to." Nick said giving Greg a careful glance from top to bottom scrutinizing his appearance to see if he's doing well. "Hey, your arm is out of the sling. That's great, man." He said pointing to Greg's free right arm. He wasn't thrilled that Greg still looked sunken-cheeked, undernourished and skinny, but he was going to let that slide for now. There was plenty of time to work on that later.
"Yea, physical therapy. I'm supposed to get the nerves working again by squeezing this ball." Greg showed Nick the neon green squishy ball that he had been holding in his right hand.
"And that's awesome. You gotta keep that up. Hey Greg, it smells nice in here. What is that? Something floral?" Nick cheerfully invited himself into the apartment and walked into the living room.
"I was burning one of those lavender scented candles my mom bought." Greg answered, closed the front door, and followed behind. "Mom went back to New York a couple days ago. She had some things she needed to tend to over there. But it's ok, I'll see her again next month in time for Christmas." It sounded like he missed having her around.
It had been nearly two weeks since that episode in the observation room at the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department. Since then, Grissom and the team had prohibited Greg from returning to work. He was not allowed to even step foot into the building. He was also not allowed to contact anyone in the office to work on cases via phone, email, text, or smoke signals. In turn, no one was to contact Greg for any reason other than to see how he was. Grissom knew all too well from habit that Greg will attempt to reach out once he got bored enough. Grissom also knew that Greg was highly efficient in his work. It wouldn't be uncommon for someone at the lab to reach out to him if they were absolutely stuck on something. Grissom put this rule into effect until he deemed Greg well enough to come back to work.
"So, how have you been?" Nick asked while taking a gander through the titles on Greg's bookshelf.
"Alright, I guess." Greg shrugged. He thought for a minute then added, "Did you know it was Daniel who poisoned Chloe during the dinner party at the Horton's. Well, she's in a coma now, but as it turns out, Daniel was blackmailed by Stewart into spiking Chloe's scotch. Nathan's long time affair with Stephanie behind Melanie's back has come to an end. Melanie came home early and accidentally walked in on them in bed together, so he's really in hot water now. After a paternity test, Nicole finds out the father of her baby is not Stephan, but Carlos. But on a happier note, there are wedding bells headed for Michael and Zoey."
"What are you rambling on about?" Nick shot a confused and impatient look at Greg.
"Days of Our Lives." Greg answered. "Totally underrated. It's got good content, if not a bit outrageous and none of it can ever possibly happen in real life, but you know, it passes the time…"
"Oh my God, you watch soap operas?" Nick said in awe.
"There's nothing else on TV. I've spent the last two weeks cooped up in this apartment. My life revolved around soaps, game shows and afternoon naps. I don't really have a choice." Greg said.
"Yea, but soap operas, huh? It's finally come to that." Nick shook his head in dismay. "I thought maybe Warrick might, but you, my brother, I never figured you could succumb to it. This is dismal. You need to be saved before you fall deeper into the rabbit hole."
"There's nothing else to do during the day time. Grissom won't let me near the lab. I've even tried to call to see if I could help out, but everyone I called shut me out. Bunch of traitors." Greg huffed.
"Grissom did give warning that you would try and do that." Nick smiled. "After what happened, he's only doing this for your own good. He doesn't want a repeat of what happened in that observation room. I think after that, you've kinda scared us. You're supposed to stay away from stress so you can recover. Unfortunately, our line of work is demanding and highly stressful. I know you're anxious to return, and you will. But right now, it's best for you to stay away. There's nothing wrong with taking some time off for some R & R. You'll thank him later."
"But it's like I'm under house arrest." Greg laughed it off. "I don't even know what day it is sometimes. If you think this is fun, it's not. I know my energy is not all there and I'm still kinda messed up, but I'd rather be working, being productive, doing something. I'm going stir crazy here."
"Well, today is gonna be different." Nick said. "I have us two tickets to the Raiders game over at Boyd this afternoon. Center field seats - right on the 50 yard line." He added proudly.
"Huh? Oh, I don't know about that, Nick." Greg drew back. He was surprised at the offer.
"Are you kidding? The Raiders are playing against The Patriots. East coast versus almost West coast." Nick said, as if that was reason enough for going. "It's gonna be a good one. And we have to show support for our local team."
"I'm afraid I'm not gonna be such great company. It's just that I get tired a lot lately." Greg said truthfully.
"It's ok. I totally get it. Don't worry, if you get tired, we'll take a break. Now let's see if we can find your Raiders jersey." Nick said while ushering Greg into his bedroom to locate that jersey.
"Nick, it's great that you came over. No one's come up since Mom left, so this is a real treat. I'm thrilled to see you. But it's your day off. I know how valuable those are. Are you sure you wouldn't rather spend it with someone else?" Greg asked, not wanting to impose but really hoping Nick would say otherwise.
Someone of Nick's popularity and outgoing nature would've easily had dozens of people lining up just to have coffee with him. Greg often admired that about Nick. Nick doesn't have to try very hard for people to like him. People just did. He had a way with people in general. Greg sometimes envied Nick's socializing skills and being so effortlessly well-liked by everyone. It wasn't unlikely that Nick should include Greg in activities, but setting all the teasing aside, Nick always had a soft spot for Greg. It just came as a surprise to Greg that Nick would sacrifice his day off to hang out with him with just themselves. This was definitely out of the ordinary and rare. It was like finally getting to spend time with a big brother who was always too busy to take you on that fishing trip.
"No. I'm pretty sure this is how I want to spend my day. You, me, football. 'Sides, you said it yourself that you're going stir crazy in here. I've come to provide an outlet." Nick responded. "It'll be fun!"
"I don't know…" Greg trailed off, still a little unsure. He watched Nick opening the closet door and paused in front of it with hands on hips.
"Wow Greg, your closet is neater than Hodges' beaker cabinet. What the hell happened?" Nick asked.
"My mom filled her time cleaning and organizing my whole apartment when I was in the hospital." Greg explained.
"Here's the plan - we'll go grab some lunch before heading over to the stadium. I know this great pub down on Paradise Road." Nick detailed like it was already decided. "Honestly Greg, you look like you can use a burger or two or three." He referred to Greg's lanky figure.
"So, center field, huh?" Greg grinned. He loved football just as much as the next guy. He couldn't remember the last time he sat in the stands and enjoyed the ambiance of an actually game. There were countless super bowl parties throughout the years, and all were either at sports bars or at someone's house where everyone was invited. It was rowdy and loud with sporadic cheering and booing. Greg thought those times were plenty fun, but to go to a game with just Nick was super awesome.
"Yep, 50 yard line." Nick repeated. "And you can't say no because I ain't going to a football game by myself."
"Well, I am kinda hungry now that you mention it." Greg admitted.
"I'm glad because their portions are huge." Nick said as he pushed hangers aside in Greg's closet. He found the jersey, and tossed it over to Greg to put on. "Hmm, you've definitely lost some weight there. I don't remember it being that loose on you. Yea, we're gonna need to do something about that." Nick said after watching Greg pull the football jersey over his long sleeved t-shirt.
The jersey was definitely loose on Greg's frame and he was aware that he'd lost a considerable amount of weight. Although his appetite had gradually started to return, Greg seemed to be struggling to put on more pounds. He did feel a little self-conscious noticing some of his clothes were baggier than usual, his watch hung looser on his wrist, and he needed a belt to hold his jeans up. Without his mom's cooking, Greg was left to eating microwave dinners and take out, which definitely did not count as nutritious meals. He didn't want to admit it, but Nick was right. He really needed to eat more and better.
"You know what? I think the fresh air will do you some good. Get some sun, breathe in some fresh air…put some color back into those cheeks." Nick spoke frankly as he closed the closet door and exited out into the living room. Greg followed curiously watching Nick. "That's what we do down south. We're outdoorsmen. Whenever we're sick or under the weather, we let nature heal us. It's a plus we get a lot of warm temperatures too. Works every time. It's better than you sitting here watching Days of Our Lives with a box of tissues and waiting for Zoey to come out of her coma."
"I suppose you're right. Oh and it's Chloe that's in a coma, not Zoey. Zoey's the one who's getting married to Michael." Greg corrected.
"See what I mean." Nick sighed in feigned exasperation. "Come on, let's go."
The lunch crowd at The Red Lion on a Wednesday was slow and toned down. Things would pick up again when Friday came around, but right then, it was unusually quiet. Greg was initially worried that his frayed nerves couldn't deal with an unruly and rambunctious crowded pub setting. But when they walked into the establishment, Greg was greeted with a pleasant surprise. He turned to Nick, who only smiled an all-knowing smile. Several flat screens hung above the bar played various sports and displayed scoreboards, but the volume was dramatically lowered. There were no patrons seated at the bar and a bartender can be seen giving the counter a wipe down. Only a few people had occupied the tables in the seating area of the restaurant. It was mellow with a soft hum of conversation that filled the space. Even the music playing overhead was just the right volume where you can hear each other talk. This was exactly what Greg preferred. They were lead to a nice table in the rear by a waitress.
When the waitress left them with the menus, Nick made it clear to Greg that he was not allowed to order any wimpy foods. Nick's definition of wimpy foods included soups, salads and micro sandwiches. He explained those were fine on any other day, but on this day, Greg was required to order a hearty meal that stuck to his ribs. He figured Greg could use more protein. Nick did a great job steering Greg towards the bacon double cheeseburger with all the fixings and a side of fries to be washed down by a root beer. Satisfied, Nick ordered the same. When the food arrived, Greg was astonished to find an enormous burger practically the size of a Frisbee on top of what seemed to be an endless mound of fries. Well, Nick wasn't kidding when he said the portion size was huge. And even though Greg had initial doubts about finishing the meal, the mouthwatering smell of hot beef and crisp deep-fried potatoes whetted his appetite and he realized how extremely hungry he was. Nick watched Greg contently devour the burger. It was heartening and gratifying to see Greg finally eat like how a kid his age should. If he could fit a couple more of these burgers into Greg, he would, but this was a good start.
After lunch was finished, they got into Nick's pickup truck and headed over to Boyd Stadium in Whitney. The ride was a smooth 20 minutes with no traffic on the I-515. They arrived early and found a decent parking spot close to the stadium's entrance. Since there was a little time before the game, Nick and Greg took a short walk to digest their extravagant meal. Nick also wanted to take advantage of the nice day and let Greg get in some much needed fresh air. They found a bench in the green space at the side of one of the exits and Nick suggested they have a sit when Greg seemed a little tired.
Out of curiosity, Greg inquired about the goings-on at the lab and new cases. Nick only replied that he was not at liberty to say. At first, Nick dismissed it as Greg being Greg. He was bored and it was only natural for him to want to be helpful. But after a few more questions, Nick soon realized the real reason behind all the questioning. It went from "how's-everyone-doing" to "what's-everyone-doing" to "do-they-hate-me-for-doing-my workload." Greg was worried about the stability of his job and that he wasn't sure there was a job to go back to if everyone didn't need him anymore. Nick laughed wholeheartedly at Greg's silly paranoia and insecurity. He, then, reassured Greg with the honest truth – That there was no way Grissom was ever going to fire him. That everyone at the lab missed him immensely. That they all hoped he was recovering and can't wait for him to be back. Even Hodges missed having a sparring partner to vie for Grissom's attention. Nick ruffled Greg's hair. The affectionate and playful gesture made Greg laugh and dissuaded his irrational way of thinking.
Greg's excitement was building as kickoff time approached. It was natural for people to get all psyched up before a game. He wondered how on earth Nick managed to secure such excellent seats. It was right on the 50 yard line just like he said. Since it wasn't the super bowl or some major championship game, they didn't expect it to be a packed event. The crowd was spread out and dotted evenly around the stands. There was the occasional unfilled seat here and there, but not overly empty. Nick and Greg sat comfortably with vacant seats next to them.
Sam Boyd Stadium was a single-decked outdoor stadium shaped like a horseshoe, probably built deliberately paying homage to associating good luck with Las Vegas and gambling. It had a 40,000-seat capacity and a field of plush green grass sandwiched by two yellow goal posts. The black and white bench seats neatly followed the length of each wing across the stadium. Capitalized black and silver letters spelling the word "Raiders" was painted gallantly on each of the end zones. The team logo of the smiling one-eyed pirate was painted right smack in center field. A grey and white rectangular press box hung over the right side of the field, where sportscasters were getting ready to announce, commentate, and broadcast the play. The scoreboard was a digital LED video screen that stood tall on the north end zone right at the open end of the horseshoe. It was painted in the home team colors. Coca-Cola and Cirque du Soleil commercials flashed alternately on the screen.
Greg took in the full atmosphere of the stadium – listening to the comforting murmur of laughter and conversations from excited spectators, hearing the different sounds and music coming from field equipment, watching staff and fans scurrying along to find their places, inhaling the periodic waft of slow roasting hot dogs from the concession stands, breathing in the crisp sharp smell of desert air in November, and feeling the touch of a cool breeze against his skin as the mid-afternoon waned. Beyond the stadium, Greg saw the slowly fading sunlight dance atop the mountains reflecting in beautiful hues of reds and browns. Greg smiled. He was truly happy.
The game went underway without a hitch. As the sky got darker, the stadium floodlights turned on illuminating the field. A football game often brought the emotions on a series of rollercoaster rides and stimulated all the senses. There were the highs and lows, and dips and turns. You were rewarded with cheering when your team is on top, followed by the groaning when your team isn't, then back to being hopeful and optimistic that your team may indeed win. Despair one minute, then redemption in the next. High fives and fist bumps ensued when the team you're rooting for scores. Yelling and reprimanding when the opposing team triumphs. It was the exhilarating comprehensiveness of the sport. You wouldn't leave without feeling something strong at the very least. Greg was told to avoid stress. This, by far, was not stress. This was quite the opposite. It was watching a good, tight game between two worthy teams, being with good company, and participating in an active atmosphere. All these feelings made Greg feel alive again. He loved every minute of it.
In the entire 2 hours and 38 minutes of the game, there was only one short instance where Greg's health showed sudden weakness. It happened during the second half of the game when the score was a tight 27-20 with Raiders leading. It was an intense moment in the game when they were watching a rush for the 20-yard line. Nick and Greg had been merrily cheering and rooting for the home team, sometimes criticizing the defense and offense, but thoroughly overjoyed when they scored a point. They were standing up, fists balled up ready to punch the sky in jubilation, and celebrated shouts ready to roll off their tongues. Amidst the excitement, Greg gave out a short, pained grunt, like as if someone punched him hard. He sank back down to his seat.
"Greg, are you alright?" Nick said upon noticing immediately Greg's discomfort. Startled, he took his seat next to Greg. Nick placed a hand gently on Greg's shoulder, trying to assess the situation.
"Yea, I'm fine. I just needed to sit." Greg replied frankly, after a breath. Nick wanted to be convinced but was a little skeptical when he saw the grimace on Greg's face and the lightly rubbing of his chest.
"What's the matter?" Nick said with concern.
"Muscle spasm." Greg winced and closed his eyes for a second to bite back the twisting pain.
"Are you sure that's all it is?" Nick asked suspiciously.
"I'm positive. I'll be ok. I'm used to it. Just gimme a minute. It'll pass. Always does." Greg breathed and hung his head low trying to hide the pained expression on his face. After about some forty seconds of Nick watching him closely, the cramp began to subside. If the pain persisted, Nick was ready to take Greg to the hospital immediately. But luckily, it didn't come to that.
"This happened often?" Nick inquired finally.
"Yea, quite frequently." Greg admitted and gave a shaky sigh. He was just glad the pain receded.
"Frequently? Does your doctor know about this?" Nick pressed. The football game had taken a back seat.
"He knows. It's not unusual for muscle spasms and cramps to surface from time to time."
"Does it get very bad?" Nick sounded worried.
"Yea, sometimes." Greg felt he couldn't lie because Nick was staring him down so hard that even if he did, Nick would see right through him. He remembered two days ago when he was at home heating up lunch in the microwave when a spasm hit him so intensely that he thought he was going to pass out. He couldn't even make it to the couch much less reach for his pain killers. He just sat right there curled up on his kitchen floor, breathing in dust, and waited with tears in his eyes for the pain to release itself.
"I had no idea this was happening. And you didn't think to tell me? Suffering from chronic pain is not something to take lightly." Nick scolded. He could pretty much safely conclude that Greg hadn't told anyone about this. If this happened as frequently as Greg said it did, then that meant it probably happened when he was home alone. If he was home alone and a bad episode should occur, no one would be there to help him and what if it got so bad, he needed a hospital. Nick didn't like the thought of that. It was one thing for Greg to be healthy and able to take care of himself while alone, but to be alone in his unsteady condition, was worrisome at most. Nick felt much better when Greg's mom was there to look after him. At least someone was present.
"It's really ok, Nick. I've got prescription pain killers if it gets bad. But most times I just ride it out." He said, hoping to diffuse Nick's worry, but hearing this only made Nick worry more.
"That doesn't sound very reassuring, Greg. I thought we had an understanding. You'd tell me if something wasn't right."
"It's nothing."
"No, this is not nothing. I'm gonna have to keep a closer eye on you." Nick said. Greg didn't feel like arguing that he's fine, and just allowed Nick to fuss over him.
"Oh gosh, but that hurt." Greg gave a whimper followed by a nervous laugh.
"It looked like it did. Are you ok now?" Nick softened, turning to a more sensitive tone.
"Yea." Greg affirmed.
"Honest? Cause if you're lying, I can tell."
"Honest. Really, I'm good now." Greg looked up and made eye contact, like as if that would be the ultimate seal of truth.
"Fine, but you can't keep these things from me going forward. You come to me for anything. If you're sick or in pain or even if you just wanna talk. Whatever it is, whatever time it is, you call me. Are we clear?"
"Ok, Ok." Greg promised. "I'll have you on speed dial."
"You'd better."
"Let's get back to the game. We're missing the best parts. What's the score? Hey, wow did you see that pass!?"
"I know what you're doing. You're changing the subject." Nick eyed him carefully. Seeing Greg grinning at him made him decide to let it go for now.
The rest of the game went on without incident. However, Greg decided it would be more sensible to just watch the remainder of the game seated. His enthusiasm was still quite strong, but he just thought sitting would prevent another muscle spasm. Nick understood all this without being told. He sat with Greg. Besides, it wouldn't be any less loyal to the home team if they cheered from their seats. More slaps on the back, fist bumps, and high fives ensued as The Raiders took home the win.
In such an elated and fantastic mood, Nick and Greg couldn't stop talking about the extraordinary play and well-deserved win over the Patriots – not that there was any animosity towards the east coast team. In fact, because they were a credible opponent, it made for a highly enjoyable game. Since Nick and Greg both relocated to Las Vegas from Austin and San Gabriel respectively, they felt it was absolutely necessary to show support for their home away from home team. After a rewarding time at the game, hunger managed to sneak its way back once all the energy has been spent. The night was fairly young, and Greg suggested treating Nick to the best buffalo wings in Las Vegas.
The Wild Bird was an off-the-beaten-path gastro pub. The décor theme was a traditional farm to table with a twist of modern art. Lots of farm inspired furnishings adorned the walls and hung from the ceiling - anywhere from crates and haystacks, to plastic farm animals and burlap bags of feed, to rustic farmhouse signage depicting fresh eggs and country living. Half an old tractor was tastefully protruding over a bar in the rear of the restaurant. The furniture was all redwood, with red and white checkered tablecloths. It was evident that they specialized in a variety of comfort foods, but all the regulars knew their signature dish was the buffalo wings. Nick had never known this place existed. To his amazement, the southern feel was comforting, and it reminded him of home.
After tasting the delicious zesty buffalo wings and house made blue cheese dip, Nick concluded that he had found his new favorite restaurant. Together, they downed a dozen wings each, loaded nachos, and chocolate milk shakes. The conversation during the meal was prolific and touched all wide range of subjects. Both Nick and Greg were impressed that they got along so ridiculously well and even shared a lot of the same views. A lot of the times, things were often group gatherings – early-bird breakfasts at the diner, birthday parties at the lab, processed crime scenes together, worked together on building cases, and even sat together for snacks in the break room, but they haven't had an opportunity to really hang out during down time. This excursion was a bonding experience between two great friends. They joked, laughed, complained about what's wrong with the world and society, and shared wholesome stories about their families, travel experiences, even talked about girls.
Greg marveled at the night scenery on the ride back to the apartment. The streets were lit up with neon and LED signs giving contrast to the darkness of the sky. Las Vegas was such a unique place. He reflected on the blessed day he had and how exceedingly fortunate he was to have a friend like Nick. It soon dawned on him that this day was not a coincidence. Nick had planned this day well in advance. It was not spur of the moment. Everything from taking the day off, to the burger place, to the tickets to the game, and how Greg couldn't say no. Nick's purpose was not only to cheer him up, but to make sure Greg had a decent meal, exposure to fresh air and exercise, a chance of feeling something at a football game, and connecting with good company. Evidently, Nick had given this a lot of thought and all of it was in Greg's best interest. Greg realized at that moment what Nick had done for him and he was heartened.
Nick's driving was actually quite smooth and skilled. It wasn't a lie when Nick said he knew his cars. He didn't floor the brakes like the way Catherine did and made everyone in the car jerk forward. Greg thought Nick was better driver than most people he knew. The passing lights glaring from streetlamps rendered him a little drowsy and tired. Greg leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes to relax. He was shortly interrupted by Nick giving him a gentle shake on the shoulder.
"Hey, feeling ok?" Nick asked mildly, noticing Greg's reticence. It was hard not to worry a little about Greg's health, especially after all that had happened. The kid suffered a serious trauma and nearly died. He knew it was going to require a lot of rest and physical therapy to get back to being a hundred percent. He also knew there were going to be bad days when pain returned, and PTSD kicked in with anxiety and flashbacks.
"Oh, I'm fine. I was just resting my eyes." Greg replied as he peeled open his eyes.
"Tired, huh?" Nick said.
"Yea, a little." Greg confessed.
"It has been an eventful day." Nick said truthfully. "You can go ahead and take a nap if you want. I'll let you know when we get there."
There was a brief pause.
"Nick?" Greg turned to face his friend.
"Yep?"
"Thank you. I can't remember the last time I had this much fun."
"Well, I'm glad. I told ya it would be fun."
"I know what you were trying to do, and it was something I didn't know I needed, but really did. No one's ever went out of their way and done anything like this for me."
"I don't know what you're talking about, Greg." Nick joked. "We're just two guys getting together to watch some football and eat copious amounts of food."
"No, it was more than that. You really thought this through. Premeditated." Greg laughed. "Just know that I appreciate it so very much, and I won't ever forget this." The camaraderie touched Greg. He's had a lot of friends that came and went in his lifetime, but never anyone that he considered a best friend.
"You make it sound like this is the last time we'll ever hang out." Nick chuckled and rolled his eyes thoughtfully. "I don't know about you, but I'm thinking pinball."
"Pinball?" Greg said in confusion. "You lost me."
"Do you like pinball?"
"Yea, I mean like who doesn't." Greg replied enthusiastically. The geeky, nerdy side of him always prevailed.
"Well, I do too. So, next weekend. You and me. Pinball Hall of Fame. Ever been there?"
"I've heard of it, sure. But I've never been there."
"Oh, then you're gonna love it. It's awesome. They house some 700 pinball games of past and present in a 25,000 square feet facility. The games are great. All still operational and in mint condition. Still 25 cents per play. All proceeds go to causes and charity. How about it?"
"You don't have to do this."
"Do what?"
"Feel the need to take me to places."
"You've got it all wrong." Nick sounded surprised, yet he was rather amused that Greg saw himself as so unimportant.
"I figured you'd have better things to do on a weekend than to spend it with me."
"You're beginning to sound like a broken record player. You crack me up." Nick chortled. "Why do you think you're not worthy enough to hang out with me?"
"Cause you're cool and I'm not. I usually don't get his sort of treatment." Greg revealed scrupulously. Nick sighed.
"You know the old adage, 'you don't know what you got until it's gone'? Well, after everything that's happened to you in the last weeks – it's really got me thinking about life. I know it sounds corny, but it's really true. Sometimes, it takes a life-changing experience to really see what's going on. We all take life for granted every day. We go on our routines, we get mad at things, and we fight, and try to one up each other. We never stop and realize how valuable life is and how it can be taken away from us in an instant, without warning. We need to refocus on appreciating the finer things in life and count all our blessings – however big or small. We can't go through life without telling people close to us that they matter, and that we care because we procrastinate and figure we can do it tomorrow. But if tomorrow never comes, you've lost your chance. Here one minute, gone the next. Dammit, we almost lost you, Greg." Nick stopped abruptly because he was getting a bit choked up. "It was just too close. You were hanging by a thread, and I never would've forgiven myself if you died." He retracted.
"I'm not your responsibility."
"You are my responsibility. I'm CSI level III. I have seniority over you. That makes me responsible for you. Anything happens to you, it's on me."
"I was just unlucky."
"No, quite the opposite. You don't know how lucky you really were. Someone up there must've really been looking out for you. You scared the shit out of me. Out of all of us. You were in such a bad way. There were moments when I really thought you weren't gonna make it. Part of me was ready to give up, but I knew I couldn't. I couldn't give up on you."
"I'm glad to know you didn't." Greg said. Fatigued, he watched Nick but leaned the side of his head against the headrest.
"My point being, I'm done taking things for granted. I want to be able to go through life without any regrets. This experience has taught me to be thankful for all the good things I've got. You are surely one of those things. I don't want to regret not spending time getting to know you. You and I - we've known each other for a long time, and yet we don't know much about each other. We never had the chance to do stuff outside of the job, and that's just a shame 'n we need to change that. You're a good kid. You deserve much better." Nick said. "Besides, I'm really not as cool as you think."
"Making up for lost time. I get it." Greg couldn't help but give a tired grin.
"It's just something I want to do."
"You do it because you're a great friend."
"We're not just great friends. We're family, Greg. And I mean that." Nick said firmly and shot a glance at Greg, who looked extremely shocked.
Greg's heart warmed with joy at hearing those words. For Nick to consider him family was something that was truly unexpected. If he had to be honest, he always saw Nick as an inspiration. Nick had all the qualities he ever wanted to possess. Nick was exceptionally efficient at his job, truly athletic, well-cultured, academically inclined, highly likeable by everyone he met, and even had the chiseled looks that made him so popular with the ladies. There was envy, but more admiration and respect than anything else. Being a part of Nick's circle was beyond the acceptance that he could ever ask for. He didn't know what to say.
"Let me tell you something." Nick began. "I grew up in a large family. I have five sisters and one brother – all of them older. Because I was the youngest, I was the one they bullied. I was on the receiving end of jokes and pranks. I got the hand-me-downs. They always had first dibs on everything because they were older and faster. But at the end of the day, I was the one they protected, took care of, and sometimes spoilt. There was a lot of teasing and hazing over the years, but that's our weird Stokes way of showing affection. I suppose that's why I treat you the way I do. It's nothing personal, just what I'm used to." He laughed. "In all seriousness, we learn so much from each other and support one another. When the going gets tough, we Stokes stick together. I just had to accept the fact that I was always gonna be the little brother. I've always wanted to be the older brother. To have that someone to look out for, mentor and protect from the world. You know?" He continued.
"So…I'm filling that void?" Greg kidded.
"I guess you are." Nick laughed. "You're like the kid brother I never had."
"You know, I'd actually be honored." Greg was glad it was dark in the truck because the sensation of tears were stinging the back of his eyes.
"So, you ready to try and top the current champion of Medieval Madness or what?" Nick said fancifully.
"I have to warn you, pinball was my second sport in school." Greg cleared his throat.
"What was the first?"
"Chess."
"Shoulda known. You're so predictable." Nick said, not the least bit shocked. "Still, no way can you beat my record though." He taunted.
"Oh, you are so on." Greg accepted the challenge.
The animated conversation on the subject of pinball grew and before they knew it, they had arrived at their destination. Nick pulled up to the curb outside Greg's apartment complex. "Here we are." Nick said as he set the gear to park. Greg released his seat beat and was about to thank Nick again for getting him out of the house, when Nick spoke first. "By the way, Thanksgiving is coming up and you're invited to spend the long weekend at the Stokes household."
"Oh, I couldn't." Greg declined. Nick had been so generous already and this was just too much.
"Why not? You're not doing anything."
"It's really no big deal."
"Yes, it is. Family doesn't let family spend Thanksgiving alone. Grissom and Sara have their usual spa resort thing, Catherine's got her family reunion, and Warrick's got his ski trip with his buddies. And you ain't seeing your mom until Christmas."
"I'll manage."
"Nooo." Nick teased. "You haven't really experienced a Thanksgiving until you've experienced a Stokes Thanksgiving. A Stokes Thanksgiving holiday is four glorious days of nonstop eating and watching football on a 55" flat screen TV. Besides, Mom's expecting you to be there, and dad's already started the menu. It's always been a Stokes family tradition to have a ton of food on the table 'cause nobody goes hungry when they're at our house. One of dad's mottos is "go big or don't even bother". They always overdo it every year. So, don't be surprised when they want to feed you until you explode. They know you especially need to be fed, so I think for a change, the pressure is off me this year. Mom's always busting my chops insisting I don't eat enough. I guess that's what moms do. But this year, the main focus would be you."
"Wait, you told them about me?" Greg sounded startled.
"Of course, I told them. My parents and I are very close knit. We talk almost every day. Mom's always asking about you, so I keep her in the loop. They know the whole story. So now Mom suddenly has a new project. She's determined to fix you with some TLC." Nick said.
"Who else knows?" Greg reddened.
"Don't worry, everyone in the Stokes family is aware of your situation. They won't ask any embarrassing questions or awkward questions you don't want to answer. We act a little rowdy and maybe sometimes even seem cheeky, but my folks are good, sensible people. They know where to draw the line when it comes to these things." Nick said. "You already know mom and dad. And you'll get to meet some of my siblings and their families. Our house gets busier than an airport on Thanksgiving. We'll have some other relatives coming by to say hi, but they don't usually stay for long."
"I don't know…"
"It'll be fine. You'll overnight at our house. There's plenty of room. I mean, we were a family of nine plus a dog, so there's a lot of space. We can fly in and fly back out together. Flight time from Las Vegas to Austin is only two and a half hours. It ain't that far. Plus, this'll give me a chance to show you around my old 'hood, and the local watering hole. We'll even give the old football a toss around in the yard." Nick convinced.
"I just don't want to intrude."
"What? Intrude? Can't believe you'd think that. We're gonna have way more food than we can finish. There'll be turkey and ham and all that, but the one thing that always makes me homesick is dad's smoked barbeque brisket. I don't know what he does, but every time, it turns out to be the most perfect tender, juicy, flavorful cut of beef you'll ever eat. Dad says he's making extra, 'cause you're gonna need it." Nick raved. "Then there's the other staple item at our Thanksgiving table - barbeque baby back ribs. We have a Stokes secret dry rub recipe handed down from my nana. Wait till you taste it. I know I can't wait. We Texans really know our BBQ – especially dad."
"And how is the Honorable Judge doing?" Greg asked.
"Dad's great. He's definitely more relaxed. These days, when he's not presiding in the courtroom, he's gone fishing. Mom's always telling him to work less, and play more. He loves the holidays now though. Always had a soft spot for Thanksgiving because it meant family and family is important to him. I guess that's why every Thanksgiving, they make sure there's an abundance of good food on the table and to leave the door open for all family and friends." Nick explained. "They were both very disturbed and bothered by what happened to you. Mom said dad was so angry that he wanted to use his judicial power and influence a motion for death penalty. Mom talked him out of interfering. You have an effect on them. Look, they really want you to be there."
"Well then, I suppose I can't disappoint them, now can I?" Greg finally gave in after a brief pause.
"Excellent." Nick exclaimed. "I will let them know the good news. Be prepared to be coddled though. Mom's really good at that, and so is my sister Mary. You've struck up so much sympathy in them that you're gonna have them eating out of your hands in no time. Mary teaches 5th grade over at the local elementary school. And her husband Stan's a doctor with his own practice. They have a 13 year old son, Steven, who's away at school in Switzerland. He ain't gonna be back until Christmas, so Mary needs someone to dote on this Thanksgiving, and she's somehow decided it's gonna be you. By the way, you know, Mary makes the best peach cobbler this side of Texas. I'm pretty sure she's going to be bringing like five pans of them, 'cause she knows it's my favorite."
"You have such a nice family." Greg gushed.
"Yea, it's true." Nick agreed. He turned to face Greg. "Greg, I know life can be suffocating and you feel like there's no way out. You can't breathe and you think you're losing control of everything. But no matter how trapped or stuck you feel, there's always a way out. Sometimes, you might need help finding that way out and it's ok. There's always gonna be people that care about you. You just have to let them. Okay?"
"Yea." Greg nodded. "Why are you so nice to me? Why is anyone so nice to me?" He questioned inquisitively.
"Nice to you? Don't you think you deserved to be nice to?" Nick chortled. "At some point in our lives, we all deserve a break, especially when someone's been through hell and back."
"Sooo, you feel sorry for me? That's why?" Greg probed.
"Ok, to be honest – yes, I do. I feel sorry that you had to go through all that and it was kinda my fault. I feel sorry that I didn't look out for you better. So, if people seem a little bit overly protective and nice to you, it's just us trying to make things right."
"Hey, just for the record, I never thought you did anything wrong to begin with. In fact, from what I've been told, you saved my life back there. You applied pressure to the wound."
"That's just common sense, Greg. I couldn't let you bleed to death. The real heroes were the paramedics. I really didn't do much."
"No, you certainly get credit. Maybe it was a team effort – you for keeping me from bleeding out, paramedics for keeping me alive, doctors for fixing me up, and me for hanging in there."
"Well, if you want to put it that way…"
"Yea, we all took part in it, I guess. That's how I see it." Greg summed up. "Can I ask you something?"
"What?"
"Does your dad still call you 'Pancho'?" Greg subconsciously stifled a yawn.
"Yes, I reckon he does. Well, sometimes." Nick smiled, like it was nothing to be embarrassed about. "And I'll still call him 'Cisco'. We used to watch old re-runs of that show all the time when I was a kid. I saw myself as dad's sidekick, so the names kinda stuck over the years."
"Very cute." Greg giggled. "All joking aside, I think it's wonderful that you and your dad have such a great relationship. More than I can say for mine though." There was a touch of melancholy there and Nick sensed it.
"Aw hey, that's hard. But you know what? He's totally missed out on what an amazing person you've become. You're smart, kind, compassionate, accomplished, and great at what you do. If he's too blind and caught up to see that, then he's a fool. It would be a privilege for any dad to have a son like you." Nick said toughly.
"Sometimes, I just fantasize, I guess." He shrugged.
"Forget him. He's a lost cause. There's gonna be a whole hoard of Stokes willing to take you in."
"Sounds promising."
"Oh, and don't you start getting ideas into your head. You're not getting a new, cooler nickname. You'll always be Greggo to me, my waffle kid brother." Nick joked. To have a big brother like Nick was an amazing and heartwarming feeling. Greg was ever so glad for Nick to take him under his wing. For the first time since getting shot, he felt completely safe. He noticed how throughout the day, his hands never shook even once. It was unusual.
Greg sighed and chuckled lightly. Conversation was so easy with Nick. There was rarely a person in the world whom he could put his guard down and speak his heart with and also be understood. Nick was selfless and had a way of making him see truths. Everything he did, he did because he cared. It wasn't because Nick felt guilty for what happened, but because he wanted to show Greg that it's ok to need and ask for help. Sometimes, it takes persistence to get a person moving in the right direction. If Greg hadn't known that before, he knew that now. Perhaps, having a big brother looking out for him was exactly what he needed. He wanted to keep on talking to Nick and ask him all sorts of questions, but he was so physically tired.
"Ok, you'd better get going, you look like you're about to drop off. Go home and get some sleep." Nick suggested, as if reading his mind.
"Right." Greg stopped for a second. "Just thank you. You know, for everything." He said sincerely before exiting the vehicle and slamming the door behind him.
Nick rolled down the window and called for Greg, who turned around. "I'll call you before my shift starts tomorrow night just to check on you. I don't like those muscle spasms you've been having. And I don't like you relying on those pain killers."
Greg nodded amicably and waved goodbye. Although he wasn't used to all the attention, he liked it when people showed they cared about him. It was comforting but at the same time, what made it special was that he felt truly loved. The toe of his sneakers occasionally kicked up sand from the path as he walked into his apartment complex. He was grinning and his head swam with pleasant thoughts about football, giant burgers, Thanksgiving meals, buffalo wings, and pinball. He was caught up in all these things without realizing Nick hadn't driven off yet. Nick was still idling at the curb.
Nick had watched Greg walk down the path and entered the building complex. When Greg was out of sight, he turned his attention to the apartment window about two flights up and one window over from the corner. It was apartment 2B, Greg's apartment. He could see the darkness behind the window and waited patiently until he could see the light flicker on. Once it did, Nick smiled. Guardian angel or not, he felt it was his obligation to be sure Greg made it safely to his apartment.
Nick put the gear to drive, pulled out of the curb and headed home.
The End
