Disclaimer: They are not mine. Could I ever make a finale up to the standard of Grave Danger? Christ no.

Rating: K+ or PG

Pairings: None at all

Spoilers: Spoiler heavy for Grave Danger.

Summary: Nick is kept under hospital observation for 5 nights following Grave Danger. With a different team member watching him each night, they can each find their own resolve. No pairings. Focused on each character. WIP.

Okay, here's the thing. I'm going to be away for two weeks after this. I'll see what I can do to try and get the final two chapters up, but no guarantees. I'm very sorry about that – please bear with me with this! You've been absolutely fantastic reviewers so thank you so much for that. Thanks to tria246815, higherbeingfriendfan, rojaji, Mma63, NothingButSarah, KASEY(KC, KatKnits00, icklebitodd, cherishedcrush and Review1234. More feedback would be brilliant but you're all being brilliant already so thank you. Sorry for the possible delays to updating after this; I hope this chapter keeps you going for part of the way. Enjoy! Love LJ xXx

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Five Night Observation. Chapter Four. Greg Sanders

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Tonight, Nick's dreams feature the one and only Gil Grissom. Stuck once again inside that glass coffin, Nick stares desperately upwards at the supervisor. His memory is blurred by the oxygen deprivation, the heat inside the glass coffin that might as well be a greenhouse and the maddening relentlessness of the fire ants. Through the haze, Gil Grissom puts his hand palm down on the surface.

Nick!

Nick is confused. He tentatively brings his hand up to mirror his on the other side of this glass-sealed hell. It's refreshingly cold.

Nick! It's okay, Nick...

And Nick thinks to himself - maybe he's right. Maybe he's right this time.

But then the dream changes. Grissom becomes Walter Gordon – Nick remembers his face and the surprise he felt. He'd wondered why the man didn't have any hang-ups about Nick seeing him, face-to-face; was he that confident that Nick wouldn't make it out alive? It was only until afterwards that he found out Gordon had nothing to lose. He just didn't care.

So the man now standing over him, hand-on-glass, is Gordon and, as Nick presses against the glass, it begins to sink slowly downwards. Walter Gordon is pushing down on the coffin lid and the space in which Nick will spend the last seconds of his life gets smaller and smaller.

Nick!

"Help me!" he screams. "No!"

Walter Gordon grins and pushes down harder. Nick's arms give way; he hasn't got a chance against the man. Not only has Gordon got the height advantage, but Nick's just too tired now. He's too tired and weak and now he just doesn't care. His arms get pushed to his sides and he leans his head back, sobbing as he feels the glass lid press down on his chest. There is a series of sickening cracks in which Nick's aware that every rib in his lifeless, suffocated body is snapping.

"Nick!" Greg, both hands grasping Nick by the chest and shoulders, is shaking him lightly. "Come on, Nick – wake up."

Nick is awake, cold sweat running off his face along with the tears. Greg looks frightened as he tries to wake up his friend.

"You were...you were screaming and I couldn't..." Greg trails off. It sounds like such a trivial thought now that it isn't backed by the terrible sounds of Nick's nightmarish screams, but he couldn't take much more. "I couldn't just sit there and watch you without doing anything. I did quite enough of that three nights back." Greg offers a self-deprecating smile. "How are you feeling?"

"Greggo..." Nick splutters out, trying to plaster on a cheerful grin but failing in his trembling confusion, still caught somewhere between waking and dreaming. "Can I have a drink or something?"

"Huh? Oh, of course, sorry, sure," Greg flusters, shakily pouring out a glass of water.

"You alright there, Greggo?" Nick asks cautiously. Greg looks up at him and, in doing so, he misses the cup and pours the jug of water onto the floor.

"Oh shit," Greg mutters and quickly drops to wipe it up. Nick laughs hoarsely.

"Thanks man – I needed that," Nick smirks. Greg kneels up and grins, though in any other situation he'd have argued against him for it. Anything counts now – anything to get Nick back on his feet.

"Glad to be of service," Greg beams and succeeds in pouring out a glass of water which he hands to Nick, triumphantly. "I should be the one asking you that question, anyway."

Nick sips slowly at his water. "What question?"

"'Are you alright?'" Greg clarifies. Nick raises his eyebrows and Greg presses on. "And are you?"

"I've been better, Greggo," Nick answers dryly. "Did I sound alright to you?"

Greg shakes his head fervently. "No; you sounded horrible," Greg tells him honestly. Nick laughs again darkly.

"Yeah, so I've been told," Nick says. "Join the crowd; Warrick, Catherine and Sara – one night with me and you go home traumatised. Not much of a pick-up line, is it?" He stares bleakly into his glass of water.

"Not exactly," Greg comments quietly, not sure of what else he can say.

"Oh well. It's not much fun for me, either," Nick continues.

"But it'll get better," Greg assures him with wide, earnest eyes. "It's just a process, Nicky. It's gonna get better."

"Greggo, man, as much as I'd love to believe that – it's consistently getting worse," Nick corrects him in a matter-of-fact way. "Do you want to hear what I dreamt tonight?"

"Okay." Greg says, though after hearing the screams, he really didn't.

"I was back in the box again," Nick begins. "I remembered Grissom with his hand on the lid when I was in there and he was in the dream. But then he changes somehow into Walter Gordon and starts to press down on the lid. I could feel it though, I swear – it was so vivid. I swear I heard and felt every rib crack." Nick looks back at Greg to see his expression. Greg looks pale.

"Huh," is Greg's only response. Nick nods.

"Yeah."

"So it's not getting any better then?" Greg asks tentatively. Nick smiles wryly.

"No, Greggo, no it's not," Nick tells him.

"Man." Greg remarks, sounding let-down.

"What?"

"I've never seen you so bummed before, Nick." Greg says. "You're talking as though there's just no hope left at all."

"Well it's a little hard to feel as though things are getting better when you can't sleep a full night without waking yourself up screaming," Nick snaps. "Or when you actually truly fear falling asleep despite how much you desperately need it, because you know what waits for you when you finally drop off and you know you can't face that again. It's a little hard to feel as though this is all just some learning curve I'm going through when it gets worse every night."

Greg sits back in his chair, a little surprised at Nick's bitter outburst.

"Sorry, man." Greg whispers.

Nick sighs and rubs his hands over his face. "No, I'm sorry, Greggo." Nick shakes his head. "I just...Jesus Christ, I'm so sick of this. Why can I just let it go? I'm so tired."

There's a silence that follows because neither of them have the answer to his questions.

"Grissom's working on getting you out sooner," Greg pipes up eventually. "He's thinking maybe tomorrow night will be your last night in here. That maybe you'll get better faster when you're back in familiar settings with your friends."

Nick nods. "Yeah, I'd like that." he says. "Doesn't feel like home here. Too...clean."

"Yeah, and I've seen your place," Greg laughs. "'Clean' is not a word I'd use to describe it."

"Oh come on, it's not that bad!" Nick protests, a smile starting to light the darkest edges of his harrowed face. "It's comfortable!"

"I slept on your couch once and I woke up with ketchup on my face," Greg replies.

Nick laughs out loud, remembering one late-night he, Greg, Warrick and Sara had spent staying up watching movies. They'd all never seen each others' favourite movies and decided on a marathon screening at Nick's place one night following a particularly rough case. Greg had fallen asleep shortly after the second movie and Sara, growing restless with sitting still for so long, decided to take advantage of the deep-sleeper.

"Whoa, man! Sara's idea – not mine!" Nick holds up his hands in submission. "You're lucky we talked her out of her original weapon of choice."

Greg cocks his head. "Oh really? And what would that be?" he asks.

"Seriously man, you just don't want to know." Nick says with a grin. Greg opens his mouth to argue back but then decides against it. Perhaps it really is better if he doesn't know what Sara was planning on pouring on his head.

"See?" Greg points out, noticing Nick's now much happier face. "This is why you need to be at home and not stuck in some sterile hospital. Grissom's really winning over the doctors. He keeps on bringing in medical journals he roots up to prove his case. They're getting kinda sick of him; he reckons they'll cave soon enough."

Nick chuckles. "Nice one, Griss."

"So don't worry about it, Nicky," Greg assures him gently. "We've got it all sorted. You'll be home soon and you'll get better. For now, though, you'd better get some rest. Show those doctors you're well enough to go home, right?"

"Will you keep talking though, Greggo?" Nick asks meekly. "Maybe if I'm listening to something else when I fall asleep, I'll dream that instead." He pauses. "The air con in here, man...it sounds like..."

He doesn't need to say what it sounds like. Greg can hear the mechanical whirring and shuddering of the fan in the silence that follows Nick's timid request.

"Sure thing, Nicky," Greg smiles bravely. "You remember that time we all went to the ice hockey last year? And Catherine broke the nose of that drunken beef-head who grabbed her butt? Never seen a right-hook like it in my life..."

A smile spreads across Nick's face as he starts to drift off into a deep sleep with Greg's animated chattering providing a welcome backing. He'd be home soon, he hangs onto that thought. He'll be back with the people he loves and he'll get over this. He'll get over this.

"...and remember Grissom's face after that? Hilarious. He looked so shocked after that and Catherine just sort of rubbed her knuckles a little before taking her seat. And we were all saying what a nice shot it was on Catherine's part but Griss was just staring at her, open-mouthed. I wish I'd had a camera, man. Best day..."

He'll get over this.

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