Title: Crash and Burn

Disclaimer: Angst, slash, violence, sexual content, language.

POV: Nick

Chapter Five: Rundown

I sat on the couch in my empty home, wondering why everything had gone so terribly wrong this year. Even though I kept trying to keep away the depressing thoughts I couldn't help it. If I had been successful in killing myself none of this would have happened. Greg never would have disappeared and our co-workers wouldn't be arguing over who's guilty; me or him. Lucky for me Grissom was occupied at the lab or he'd be here throwing a fit since I was technically sitting right smack-dab in the middle of a crime scene. I could be contaminating evidence. What did it matter? According to the information I overheard, all the blood was mine. Let Grissom get mad. I really just didn't care. I could start caring again when Greg returned to his rightful place.

What if he had runaway? The thought popped into my head at that precise moment. What if leaving was really his idea? Maybe he wanted nothing to do with me anymore. But that didn't explain the cut in my side or my blood all over the place. It would have been easy for him to just pack up and leave without a word. Greg was a smart person. He had graduated early, and with flying colors. I may have been a scientist too, but I was out of Greg's league when it came to the world of IQ's.

It seemed to me that my only friend was Sara. Not that that was a bad thing. At least someone believed in Greg and me. That tidbit of information should have been comforting but how can anything be comforting when there's a hole in my side and no way to explain how it got there? Could I have possibly caused the wound myself? I knew I was capable of self-infliction. Hell, I'd even tried to kill myself once. I honestly didn't think myself capable of murder, however. That was beyond me; even with all the negative experiences in my life. I continued to understand that it was up to me whether or not I did something wrong; not the fault of the people who harmed me in the past.

The house began to feel suffocating. I didn't want to be near the blood stains or the memories of waking up to horror. I slipped my sneakers on, tying the laces without really thinking of either action. The bloody hand print was still visible on my door and yellow police tape flapped around in the subtle breeze of the twilight hours. It was the perfect temperature for a walk. Usually I would go out for a jog before work but the doctor strictly forbade such exercise. Shutting the door with more force than necessary I started down the driveway. My neighbor gave me a hesitant glance before going back to trimming his hedges. In the space of mere nights I had gone from a loving neighbor who used to play with their daughter to a suspected murderer that was to be avoided. Life truly did suck at times.

Mr. Knowles had his right to be leery of me. I could understand that. I just hoped that when all was said and done, and I was found innocent, that we'd become the neighbors we once were. He probably didn't notice that he and his wife and their eight-year-old daughter were part of my extended family. I smiled as I walked along the street, thinking about all the barbeques we'd had and the times I'd reassured Mrs. Knowles that there weren't any prowlers around the house. Moving away from Texas, away from a family that never believed me, I had turned to other sources for that family need. Mainly the members of the CSI team. However, I didn't feel like family to them anymore.

I turned down a side road that was bare of house; for the time being anyway. More and more people were moving to the desert. At least that meant my job wasn't going to disappear any time soon. The place was quiet and helped to ease my troubled mind. A cool breeze tousled my hair. On the horizon I saw the stars beginning to make their appearance and the nearly full moon began to brighten in the darkening sky. I must have been half-way down the street when I heard the footsteps behind me. Probably just another walker or even a jogger out enjoying the cooling of the night. Nothing wrong with that.

I let my eyes wonder over the vast landscape that lay around me while my mind concentrated on thoughts of Greg. For so long I had searched for that one true love. Girl after girl, year after year. I had been about to give up for good on love when Greg made his move. I never expected to find my soul mate as a man. And though I loved him with all my heart, I wasn't sure how I felt about loving a guy. Sure, everyone at the lab knew, they had to. There was no way of avoiding that, especially after Ecklie's little mind game. There were two people back in Texas who knew nothing of my love for the science nerd. My own parents. I couldn't even bring myself to tell my parents that I loved a guy. What would my father say? Would they both disown me or would they be okay with it? With a heavy sigh I looked up to the sky. Why couldn't life ever be easy? Even for just one day?

The footsteps that had been following me drew every closer. I turned to gaze at the person who lurked behind and got blindsided. Their fist connected with my left cheek. The impact was unexpected; I couldn't have turned away in time. Judging from the pain that shot through my jaw the attacker had broken my cheekbone. Blood pooled in my mouth, filling it with a copper taste. I spat some of it out onto the ground. Before I could even turn to look upon my attacker he grabbed me roughly by the shoulder, spinning me around. I nearly lost my balance and fell.

I tried to throw a punch but he caught my wrist and twisted it. A scream escaped me as my muscles strained to keep the bone from breaking. I spat blood on him as another punch found its mark, this time hitting me in the eye. When I reached out to claw at him, wishing that I had remembered to bring my gun with me, he took hold of both of my shoulders. As he bent me forward he brought his knee up. I felt the jolt of pain as it connected with my solarplex. The air rushed from lungs and I fell to the unforgiving pavement with a thud.

I finally got a look at my attacker only to find his face covered with a black ski-mask. Typical. A black boot came rushing at me and I felt the pain in my stomach. I did my best to curl-up into the fetal position as the mystery person began to kick and stomp me. What had I done to deserve this? I was truly beginning to feel as though the world was out to get me. At some point I may have blacked out, I couldn't quite be sure. The pain in my body began to numb. I couldn't feel my legs; which clearly wasn't a good sign. What scared me more, though, was the heavy feeling in my stomach. All I could think about was internal bleeding. I'd seen enough of it in my job to know how awful a toll it took; death.

With one final swift kick to the ribs my attacker turn to run. I watched him fade into the dark. How lovely it must have been to be able to move. Just moving my arm a fraction of an inch made me cry out in pain. My throat felt sore and bruised even though I didn't remember getting attacked there. Could he have kicked me there? A coughing spasm hit me, blood colored my saliva. Nothing looked good for me. No one knew I was here or that I had gone walking. They wouldn't know what to think. Perhaps, if anyone came to visit me, they would assume I'd gone out to town.

Accepting defeat I lay there, letting the spirit slowly leave my body. This was to be my fate, dying at the hands of some unknown person on an empty street. I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of my ragged breath. Memories of Greg pushed away the pain giving my mind something else to focus on. I could feel his fingers on my skin, his breath on my cheek, and smell the scent that was unique his. It all felt so real. I yearned to be near him. I felt the tears run down my face, probably streaking the blood that was becoming sticky in consistency.

The sound of car tires on the pavement pulled me from my pit of peace. Opening my eyes I saw the bright headlights of an approaching car. Frantic thoughts began to run through my mind. Was my attacker coming back to make sure the job was done? What if the drive was innocent but didn't see me in time? Would I even feel the tires as they passed over my body? The vehicle drew closer. I closed my eyes, waiting for the impact that never came. Screeching tires and a slamming door surprised me instead.

"Oh, Nick, oh gees," Mr. Knowles cried out in shock. He crouched down in front of me. "I was praying that the scream of pain I heard wasn't yours. What the hell happened? It's clear what happened," he answered himself. "Where does it hurt? Can you move?"

I was so happy to see a familiar and friendly face that I reached out to grab his arm. My grip was weak. "It hurts everywhere."

"Oh shit, this isn't good," Mr. Knowles swore. "I didn't bring my cell phone. There's no way I can call for help. Moving you doesn't seem like the best idea. I can't leave you here to die though…"

Mr. Knowles grabbed me by the shoulders, attempting to drag me closer to his car. The pain became too much causing me to scream in pain. Mr. Knowles let me rest on the ground. I remembered the object in my pocket. Would it still work?

"My cell phone is in my pocket," I choked out in a near whisper. Mr. Knowles removed the small mechanize from my pocket. "Don't dial 911, hit speed dial number one."

He gave me a questioning look. "Are you sure? I mean, wouldn't an ambulance be better?"

"Just do it. Please."

Not bothering to waste time bickering with me he hit the button. I could only pray that there would be a connection with an actual human and not the damned voice mail. Mr. Knowles placed a hand on my shoulder. I wonder if it was to comfort him or to help comfort me. After what seemed like forever but in reality was only a few seconds the phone was picked up.

"Um, this is Mr. Knowles, Tom Knowles. I was told to call you Mr. Grissom." I only heard one side of the conversation. "I'm Nick's neighbor. He told me to call you. He needs help…….No, an ambulance…..I don't know. He said everything hurt…..Hurry, he doesn't look too good. Please….Yes, I'll stay on the line with you. Are you coming with help?" Mr. Knowles gave me a reassuring smile and a pat on the shoulder. "Mr. Grissom says he's on the way with loads of help. Hang on, Nick."