Sillie: I promise, I'll update more if the computer will stop crashing :0
Annibal: Ouchie! Paper cuts are the worst! Thanks for the encouragement, come back for more ;)
lins: Thanks,I'm glad you like it! Who knows what terrible fate awaits…
A/N: Yes, I know water isn't good for stitches, but let's pretend in this case it won't do any harm, poor Greggy needs a hot bath. Sorry if this seems OOC, I haven't seen very many of the episodes (KILL THE CABLE COMPANY!)
Kudos to my ever-patient beta: FWE! I don't know where she finds the time to beta for me when she's writing fantastic stories of her own.
Thanks to a spyware removal program, my computer had erased the last four chapters, even the ones I had on the backup so…
It may be a while before I update again, sorry!
Chapter 5 – Here Without You"I've got knives, no visible blood traces but maybe we can find something back at the lab. Dammit, this is the cleanest crime scene I've ever been to. This guy cleans everything. I found two gallons of vinegar and a ten-pound bag of baking soda under the kitchen sink. He's obviously used it to clean all sink traps, 'cause I got nothin'.'" Nick's accent was becoming more noticeable with his exhaustion and aggravation at the lack of evidence, "He even washes the empty cans and bottles before he throws them away."
"Sara?" Grissom asked.
"This guy is obsessively tidy. Everything is neatly folded, hung and put away. I've got prints, fibers and hair but I'm betting it's all his."
"Warrick?"
"Same here. Everything in this place is beyond clean."
"Bathroom didn't yield much either." Grissom pinched the bridge of his nose, "There's some blood residue in the bathtub drain but it looks like he's cleaned the walls and the bathroom sink."
"Let's get it back to the lab and then we can go to the hospital and check on Greg." Warrick suggested.
Grissom checked his watch; they'd been here for almost forty-five minutes. "I'm surprised Catherine has called yet." He pulled out his cell phone, checking to see if he'd missed her call. "No missed calls."
They were loading up the Tahoe when Grissom's phone rang. Everyone gathered around him as he answered, "Catherine?" He turned the phone to speaker so that the others could hear her.
"Gil," she sighed, "He's going to be okay. He's dehydrated and lost a lot of blood so it'll be a day or two before he's up to answering questions."
"Thank God." Sara said.
"It took 118 stitches to close up all the wounds on him and he's on his third unit of blood. He was still pretty groggy when I left to call you."
"We're heading back to the lab," said Grissom, "then we're coming over to the hospital."
"He's in ICU; they won't let more than one of us at a time in." Catherine said.
Grissom frowned, "We'll be there soon."
It didn't take them long to log in what little evidence they brought back. Most of the time was taken up by answering the questions of the concerned fellow lab techs. Hodges seemed subdued as he took the envelopes from Grissom. "This is my top priority." He said gravely. "I'll page you as soon as I get anything."
"That guy is still a kiss ass." Sara grumbled as they walked back out to the parking lot.
"He's getting better." Said Warrick.
"At kissing ass?" Nick laughed.
Catherine met them in the ICU waiting room. "He's sleeping right now. The doctor said he should be up to answering questions in the morning." She shivered and rubbed her arms. "He said there shouldn't be any permanent damage from any of the cuts or the wounds on his face but there is some minor nerve damage from the stun gun."
"He's talking okay?" Nick asked.
"He can talk, but what he's been saying so far hasn't made much sense because of the sedatives and pain killers they gave him."
"Why did they give him a sedative?" Sara asked.
"He's pretty nervous about being touched. People coming up on him and startling him…" Catherine's voice cracked, "causes some pretty extreme reactions."
"Not surprising given what he's been through." Grissom said.
"When you go in don't touch him without letting him know you're there." Catherine warned, "Make sure he sees you before you touch him so he won't be afraid."
"If he's asleep there's not much point in us going in," said Warrick, "He won't know we're here. We can come back tomorrow after we're all rested and calm."
"Yeah," said Sara, "You're right, we should get it together before we see him."
"You go on," Grissom said. "I'll see you tomorrow. I want to check on Greg before I go."
Sara put her hand on Grissom's arm, "Tell him we'll be back."
"Yeah," said Nick. "Tell we miss him."
"And his coffee." Warrick joked.
"I will." Grissom replied. "Now get out of here," he looked pointedly at Catherine, "All of you."
She grinned tiredly, "All right, all right. I'm going."
He waited, watching until they'd all gone before walking down to Greg's room.
A nurse was checking Greg's vitals and Grissom hesitated in doorway.
"You can come in." she smiled, "He's doing better, we'll probably move him down to a regular room tomorrow."
Greg was laying on his right side, curled up, the blankets tucked securely around him most likely by Catherine. The gown and blankets covered the cuts on his shoulders and back but the dark wound on his cheek stood out against his pale skin like a macabre dimple.
The nurse noticed his attention to the injury and said, "That will most likely leave only a small scar and even that will fade." She finished writing in the chart, "You can stay a while if you want to. Talk to him, touch him if you want, it'll do him a world of good to know the people who care about him are here."
Grissom pulled the lone chair in the room close to the bed and sat down. For several minutes he just sat and watched Greg sleep, eyes moving under the thin lids, mouth quirking in an almost smile. Greg's eyes began to move faster, the peeping of the heart monitor increased in tempo and the young man whimpered.
Grissom reached over the bed rail and closed his hand around Greg's, careful not to touch the raw looking wound on his wrist. "It's okay, Greg." He said softly, leaning closer to the spiky hair, "You're safe now."
Greg's hand tightened on his, but he seemed to calm, breathing slower and the heart monitor slowed its beeping.
Grissom tried to release Greg's hand but the younger man held on tighter and he gave in, leaning against the bed. "No one is going to hurt you, Greg." He watched as Greg relaxed, the tense lines in his face fading, making him look years younger. For a moment Grissom wondered if this was what it felt like to watch one of your own children sleep and he felt an unexpected sad longing for things that had never been.
With his other hand he brushed back some of the spiky strands of Greg's hair, surprised at the soft texture. He'd seen Greg on a daily basis, but never really looked at him before. There were faint scars probably from some childhood trauma, one high on his forehead, the other on his chin. A mole on his neck, acne that proved more than any birth certificate that Greg was still a young man and the fading remnants of a piecing in lobe of his ear.
Grissom smiled, wondering why Greg had stopped wearing the earring, it couldn't have been any more outlandish than the shirts or the hair, could it?
It had been a long shift and Grissom was tired, he drifted off several time, waking with a start when his back protested the uncomfortable position. Greg still refused to give up his grip on Grissom's hand, any effort to free himself only resulted in the young man's soft keening cries and clinging tighter so he resigned himself to waiting until the medications relaxed Greg enough that he could take back his hand and go home and sleep in his own bed.
The next thing he knew, he was waking up to see Greg's face only inches from his own.
"Well this is kinda awkward." Greg said, looking embarrassed.
Grissom groaned, feeling the muscles in his neck and back protested as he sat up. He smiled as Greg released his grip on his hand.
"Sorry about that." Greg mumbled, shoving his hand under the pillow.
"Nothing to be sorry about." Grissom said, "There's no shame in needing someone to lean on." He laughed trying to get Greg to smile, "Or lean against."
It worked, Greg smiled, "Did I snore?"
"I don't know," Grissom winked at him, "I was asleep."
A nurse slipped into the room, "Would you gentlemen like something to eat? I have lunch trays if you're hungry."
"Not me thanks." Grissom rubbed his hands over his face and yawned. "I'm going home and get cleaned up."
"How about you?" she asked Greg. " I have some soup and sandwiches." She came over and checked the readout on the monitors.
"Soup sounds good." Greg said.
"How's the pain?" she asked, checking the IV. "Do you need another dose?"
"Yeah, my back hurts." Greg admitted. "And my shoulders."
"Well I'm getting out of here so they can take care of you, but I'll be back later."
"Stay out of my coffee." Greg teased.
"Stop using my water." Grissom smiled, pausing at the door. "The others were here last night and they said they'd be back today if you're up to it."
"Yeah," Greg smiled, "I'd like that."
"Check with the front desk when you come back, we'll be moving him to a regular room in a couple of hours."
After Greg had eaten a light lunch the doctor came in and checked his stitches and asked him how he felt.
"Good." He lied. Every movement, every little sound set his heart into a panicked pounding and his shoulders felt like they were on fire.
"Tired?"
"A little."
"I'm going to go ahead and have you moved to a regular room," The doctor wrote in the chart then closed it. "But you'll still get to be our guest for at least two more days."
Not long after he was moved to his new room, a nurse came in and removed the IV line. Leaving the port in place on the back of his hand, she taped it down securely, "I doubt we'll need it but I'm going to leave that in just in case we have to give you some more meds. You're terribly difficult to get a line into."
"Everybody says I'm difficult." Greg grumbled.
She laughed, "How about a nice warm whirlpool?" asked the nurse, "It'll help loosen up the muscle strain in your shoulders."
"Warm sounds good." Greg said. A permanent chill seemed to have settled over him that he couldn't get rid of no matter how many blankets he had.
She helped him into the wheelchair, covering him up with the blanket. "You'll feel much better after this."
Getting into the whirlpool tub proved to be a little more difficult than he expected, he was still stiff and sore but once he was settled into the delicious warmth of the water he decided it had been worth the effort.
"Just lean back and relax." The nurse advised him. "Here's a call button if you need anything," she clipped a cable to the rail, "otherwise I'll be back to get you in ten minutes."
Greg settled back and closed his eyes but every little noise startled him and he ended up surveying the room. It was darker in here than he'd like, mechanical sounds from the various pumps and equipment made enough noise to cover up any sounds made by another person.
'You gotta relax.' He told himself, 'There's nobody here but you.'
The heat and motion of the water finally did relax the tension in his shoulders but his eyes never closed. He stared at the wounds on his wrists, puffy and red. It didn't hurt, as ugly as it looked; he felt no pain from those. The wounds on his face only hurt when his tongue persisted in exploring the unfamiliar texture of the sutures. His shoulders ached less now but the pain from the cuts was still a dull ache. Ten minutes alone in darkened treatment room seemed interminable and Greg's heart pounded fearfully when he heard the door open.
"Times up." The nurse said cheerfully, "Do your shoulders feel better now?"
Forcing a smile, he replied, "Yeah, you were right, it did help."
Getting out of the tub was easier than getting in had been, he almost immediately missed the warmth despite the thick towels and blanket.
As they got closer to his room he could make out the voices of his co-workers.
"Well I hope he's going to be alright," Sar paused and Greg imagined she was talking with her hands, "you know."
"Hey this is Greg we're talking about," Warrick replied, "he'll get over it."
Greg shivered and the nurse pulled the blanket up around his shoulders.
"Getting chilled?" she asked.
"Yeah." He replied. He pasted on a smile as they came into the room, but his heart was pounding and he felt ashamed to be so weak.