Title: Teach Me

Summary: Nick's back in the Crime Lab and still suffering the repercussions of his trauma. With no one else who can understand what he's going through, the only person who can help him turns out to be Greg. Post Grave Danger, Nick/Greg friendship.

A/N: Since TPTB won't drag up Greg's events of Season 3 again, and I believe that Nick's locked-in-the-coffin story is just as emotionally scarring as being blown out of your lab, here's a short fic of trying to ease my own frustration.

Thanks to Fraying for being my beta-reader.

Disclaimer: Don't own CSI and all its characters, whoever owns them, owns them. But it's not me- though I wish.

-----
.

Two days ago, he was adamant that he return to duty. He didn't want any special treatment, and even his counsellor had cleared him with a giant bill of clean emotional health.

Two days ago, he was looking forward to this day and going back to work, doing what he had loved for so long.

Two days ago, he had pushed all voiced concerns by his officials if he'd be as effective as he used to be.

Two days ago, he was damn sure of himself that coming back here would be no big deal.

That was two days ago.

Now, he wasn't sure it was himself who had thought about all of that. In fact, if anything now, he wanted to get out and go home. Maybe lock all the doors, close the windows and sit in front of the sports channel with a six-pack nestled in his arms.

He forced his sight to his open palms spread out on his lap as if they were holding out an offering to the heavens. Those exact hands had been banging on the lid of his premature grave. He could still feel the smooth glass on his fingertips. Even the smell of dried wood and leaves lingered in his nostrils, and it was nauseating. The chilling memories had begun to fade just a few days ago. He barely thought of it anymore, except maybe every second that he was left by himself, which was most of the time. He had thought being here would take his mind off of things and maybe, just maybe, things would be back to normal.

How could he be so wrong?

There was a plan forming in his head. If he just stood up right then and put his coat back on, he could be out of the building before anyone would realise he was gone. Later, he could call back and say that he'd had some sort of emergency. It was simple, but good enough.

"Hey, Nick."

Biting your own tongue hurtsSomething Nick discovered as he did so to avoid showing his shock. Instead, he swallowed hard, leaving the taste of blood in his mouth.

"Greg…" he watched as the younger man started pulling some things out of his locker. He hadn't seen Greg enter the locker room. He wondered how long he had been there.

He sat on the bench and waited for another of the questions that he had been answering since the incident. They had been asked so often that he had his answers memorised word for word; and almost automatically fired to spit out the line.

It never came.

He watched as Greg began untying his shoelaces and re-tying them tighter. Greg's MagLight was thrown back into the metal cage before more noise was made by his unpacking.

"Shift's starting soon?" Greg attempted light conversation.

Nick nodded a couple of times before noticing that Greg wasn't looking at him to see his response. "Yeah. In about half an hour."

"Cool."

The end of the exchange had arrived, relieving him from the casual chitchat. All he had to do now was to wait for Greg to depart and he would dive for his own locker and split.

Nick hadn't realised he had his CSI badge between fingers until he dropped it on the floor. It was Greg slamming the locker shut, shocking him. Only this time, he hadn't bitten into his tongue and he freely yelped in surprise, jumping about 2 inches in the air.

This was ridiculous. He couldn't continue life everyday like this; jumping at every bump and grunt, and looking over his shoulder for signs. Ridiculous it may have been, but Nick was doing exactly that.

"Here…"

Looking up, he saw Greg grinning a little and offering his badge back.

"Thanks."

"No biggie. Now if you excuse me, I'm gonna head home. Think I'll crash in front of a nicely warmed bowl of instant macaroni and cheese for breakfast."

There wasn't anyone else more worthy to ask than him. Nick hadn't thought about it until now. Maybe he could learn something. "Greg?"

"Yeah?" He whirled around just before taking the last step out of the locker room.

"How did… you… erm, you know..." He chewed his lip and tried bending the edges of the plastic badge.

"Say what?"

It came out as more of a choke than a plea.

"I need help."

Greg's fingers drummed across the backpack that remained held in his hand as he took more than a moment of silence. Nick gulped down the bitter aftertaste of his sentence and wondered if Greg would understand.

Retracing his steps back to the bench, Greg settled himself next to Nick and nodded. "What's up?"

Something told him that Greg probably already knew what was up. Nick let out a small breath of air to prepare himself.

"How did you get over it?"

"Over… it?"

"The lab explosion." Nick's lowered his eyes to the floor and back at Greg's expression of confusion. "Teach me."

There was a small, awkward pause; the kind that would linger and drain the world of all sound.

"It chases after you, doesn't it?"

"What does?"

"You, being in that…" Greg illustrated what he meant by moving his fingers to trace an imaginary box in the air. "…thing"

"Sort of." It was almost a lie. 'Sort of' was an understatement considering it haunted him all the time. Every waking moment.

"You know why I wanted out of the lab and into the field?"

Giving a half hearted and not completely comprehensive nod, Nick replied. "You wanted to get out." He was getting a little annoyed that Greg had not answered his own questions, yet here he was replying to one of the younger man's.

"Not really."

That was a shock. "No?"

"I wanted out because I thought I was gonna go nuts being stuck in the lab everyday. I kept thinking that something would go wrong, and I was always checking on the hot plate, the gas nozzles, the solvents... I wouldn't even dare walk near the glass walls. I was becoming a compulsive, paranoid freak and it was so bad that, I think, I spent more time checking on things than actually running tests."

It was a deduction that even the newest CSI rookie would've come to, and to Nick's disappointment, it meant he was going to suffer the same fate as Greg. To walk into work everyday, afraid of the normal things. "So you never got over it…" Both his palms covered his face, wiping it down as if trying to wash away his fears. Though no matter how many times he did it, it never worked.

Both the men sat on the bench in defeated silence while people on the outside threaded past the room, oblivious to their common shadows.

"Sometimes, it itches."

Nick swallowed the question, because he knew Greg would answer it even when he hadn't asked. Though he turned his head to face him, Greg's eyes remained locked on the cold steel containers in front of them; that is, if he was looking at them in the first place. Somehow, Nick felt that Greg was staring hard at his past more than what was physically there in front of them.

"My back. It itches." Greg cleared his throat, muttering just a little louder. "Most of the scars faded and the doctors told me it's pretty much healed completely." He shook his head.

"I know it's been two years, but every time I think about the fire, the smell of the plastic, the shattering glass… I can feel the burns."

The exact same thing was happening to him. Nick could remember every detail stronger than it has been, as if his brain was amplifying the events 10 times more. Even the terror had multiplied.

He snapped out of his self-inspection to a soft rustling noise, and Nick saw Greg placing his thin coat on the seat.

"Here," He whispered and turned his back to Nick before pulling up his t-shirt slightly, just enough for Nick to see what only he was meant to see.

Greg was right. Most of the scars had faded, but they both knew that burn marks never completely go away. Greg's back was a perfect example of that. On his pale skin were splotches of a darker tone, some lighter and others more prominent. Nick grimaced and prayed that Greg hadn't seen him cringe.

He shuddered this time, and suddenly the flashbacks of ants crawling and climbing over his body returned. He never felt it this time, though. His body, he figured, was probably too numbed by the panic and shock. Despite this, he was trying to brush off imaginary insects soon afterwards.

Pulling down his shirt, Greg shuffled back to his original position and flashed a small grin. It wasn't a very persuading one. "Good thing it's on my back and I can't see it," He joked.

It still didn't help Nick one bit with what he was going through

"I may not be able to teach you, Nick," Greg continued, "But I can help you learn from what I did."

"What?"

"The truth is, I ran from my fears. Instead of staying in the lab and continuing my job, I fought to find a way to escape."

There was no objection from Nick. He felt no different after what Greg had said. Not too long ago he had planned to fly away from here.

"I could've faced it and probably conquered it, but now I'll never know. It's another one of those situations; 'what if?'. Sometimes I feel like I've lost more than just my sanity in that explosion. Still don't know what it was, but it's changed."

"I think I know what you mean," Nick added.

He grinned again and slapped his thighs with both palms, "Anyway, the moral of the story is 'don't run like Greg did.' Because I regret it now. Don't get me wrong, I mean I'm loving this, it's just that it's never going to be like it used to be."

"So I'm supposed to just go on working and it'll all work out?" Nick couldn't help but leave the sarcasm and doubt in his voice. Even if he hadn't, the question still would have sounded rude and icy. Well, Greg wasn't locked in a box and buried underground! They were so different. Maybe it had been a mistake asking Greg after all.

"All I'm saying is that it's not going to be easy and if you want you keep things even close to as they were before, you have to fight for it."

Funny how Greg said 'close to as they were.' It was just another way to say that everything's different. No one else may realise but only he would. At least from his perspective.

"That's all I know," Greg stood up with his coat slung over his shoulder. "Don't think I can teach you anything... unless you want to know how to cook instant macaroni and cheese without getting it too dry?"

Nick gripped his badge harder and threw open his locker door with so much force that he hadn't noticed what he had done. The metal piece swung back at him from inertia, but he blocked with an elbow. The badge was mercilessly flung back into the small space and sat there in semi-darkness.

"Okay… I'll head home then." Greg continued his journey. "Nice seeing you, Nick."

He hadn't meant to seem angry, and even if he did, it wasn't directed at Greg. It was at himself for thinking that he should run home earlier. By the time Nick had thought about acknowledging Greg, the ex-lab tech had left the place as suddenly as he had first arrived.

Nick was going to have to apologise to him someday. But today, he was going to take a wise man's advice.

Slowly, Nick holstered his weapon to the back of his jeans and grabbed his badge again.

His shift had just started.

-----

TBC...

Thanks for reading.
-Cheers
Jo