Title: Inside My Coffin

Disclaimer: Slash. Suicide. Angst. Language.

POV: Nick

Chapter Fifteen: Still Life

I'm roused by the rapping of knuckles on my door. The person waiting outside is trying desperately to get my attention. In a half-sleepy state I trudge toward the obnoxious sound. I open the door and the sun shines in momentarily blinding me. A shadow shaped like person breezes into my residence. They slam the door shut. My eyes adjust to the dimmer lighting of the building.

My gaze is met by the appearance of Greg. His hair is messed up, his eyes wide with some hidden excitement. His clothes are the same from the night before. They're all wrinkled. Whatever thought or idea had come to him hit him during his work shift. His chest heaves slightly with the increased pace of his breathing. I used to do that to him.

"Something I can do for you, Greg?" I ask. I almost let slip the nickname I use for him. A nickname that is more for the lovers that we were and not the friends that we are.

"I've been thinking," he starts. "My mind has been centered on one thing all night and what few hours there have been of this day. And that one thing is you, Nick."

"Me?" The thought of Greg thinking about me ups my heart-rate.

"There is a lot of talking we need to do. I think that it's time we sit down and get it all out," he says. He runs a hand nervously through his hair causing it to stick up in some places. It just makes him look cuter.

"Than let's sit," I say with a gesture toward the couch.

Greg walks over to the couch with an air of impatience. I chance a quick look at my watch; I'd only slept for four hours. What could be bothering Greg so much that he's acting this way? I follow him to the couch and sink down beside him. While I lean back against the cushions Greg sits on the edge of his seat.

"So, you want to talk. Start talking," I say to break the encroaching silence.

His eyes look at me. The sorrow in them is easily readable. "I'm sorry, Nicky, I really am. I feel this is my fault. You tried to kill yourself and it's all my goddamn fault."

I wave a hand in the air to interrupt him. "Why is it your fault? You didn't give me the switchblade, Greg. You didn't force me to slit my wrists."

He starts crying. "Don't you see? It is my fault. I pushed you into that box in the garage, Nick. It was all my doing," he sobs.

The words send shards of ice water down my back. The man I thought of as my lover pushed me into the depths of my personal hell. I frown in disbelief and anger. "How…how could you?"

He grabs my hand and wraps it in his. "It was an accident. I swear, Nick. I was walking by the garage when I heard someone inside. The room was kind of dark and I admit, I didn't look real hard. A few minutes before that I had seen Ecklie walking around. He had pissed me off earlier in the night so I want to see what he was doing. But I lost him. Like I said, that's when I heard the noise in the lab-"

I place my free hand on his knee. "Slow down, man. Take a breath or two and calm down."

He takes a deep breath before continuing his explanation. "I knew that the truck was in the lab and Grissom had a case tied to it. My mind instantly told me that Ecklie was trying to screw up Grissom's case. To make him look bad. So I decided to get even with him. I remembered the metal box. Then thought of how great it would be to give him the hell that you had already been through."

At this point he got up to start pacing. I hate when people pace while talking to me but I lean back to let him work out his problems.

"So I looked in. I saw someone standing there with their back to the box. It was perfect. I shoved and the person fell. The lid slammed shut on top of them. It was a small victory. Not wanting to be caught I ran from the scene before you started yelling for help. It was only later that evening that I learned what I had done," he finished on the verge of panic. "I'm so sorry, Nick. I should have told you sooner but I..."

"Greg, come over here and sit. I can't watch you pace anymore. You're making my head hurt."

With a heavy heart he sits back down beside me. "There's more, Nick."

The fear grips my chest and makes it harder to breathe. "There's more?" I hear myself ask.

"It's also my fault that Ecklie found out about us. The new lab tech told him. I was just trying to be friendly when she started hitting on me. It slipped out that I loved you. I didn't know that she was kissing Ecklie's ass," he says with anger. "Had I known, I wouldn't have let it slip. See, I told you that this is all my fault. You have to forgive me. Please-"

I place my hand over his mouth to shut him up. If I let him go on I'll never get a word in edgewise. "You love me?"

His eyes meet mine and he nods. I let my hand slip from his mouth. Greg just confessed to loving me. There has to be a way to tell him the same thing without actually saying it. I've put him through hell and he feels responsible when he's not. There has to be something. I know what I can do. I leave him sitting on the couch while I rummage around in my room for something. When I find it I return to the living room. Greg is holding himself on the couch. His eyes dart to me as I walk back toward him.

"Give me your hand," I say.

He holds out his hand as I sit back down. I slip my little gift onto his palm. He pulls his hand back to exam the little object I've given him. His eyes tear up again. "A ring? For me?"

I watch him as he studies the sleek steel gray band. "It's hematite. My mother sent it to me. Many believe that hematite absorbs negativity, clears your mind, and chases away stress. I want you to have it. As a token of my love for you."

He smiles through the tears as he slips the band onto his finger. "It fights perfectly," he whispers. In a moment of weakness he embraces me. I wrap my arms around him, enjoying the feel of his touch. "I'm sorry," he whispers again.

I rub his back. "No, I'm sorry. I should have talked to you. If only I could redo everything."

"I love you, Nick, and I want the whole world to know."