Chapter 2
Greg gulped loudly, his eyes blinking, almost not hearing what he said. The pain he felt for the past thirty two hours was just amplified beyond his imagination. Nick didn't want him there and he didn't even know why.
"It-It's nothing personal," Nick's voice was strangled as Greg slowly stood from his chair. "I just... I just want to be alone for a while. To think."
Greg nodded, but didn't say anything. He knew that Nick was in the right, it was common nature to want to be alone after something so momentous as this. He just didn't want to accept it.
As Nick watched Greg moved to the door, he opened and closed his mouth more times than he could count, trying to come up with something intelligent to say, with an apology, something that would rid the defeated look that was showcased on Greg's face. He felt his heart break as the new CSI's face turned to look at him, giving him a small smile and a four-fingered wave goodbye. Greg's body retreated out of the hospital, blinking away tears he hoped Nick couldn't see through the transparent walls.
Greg stepped into his red Hyundai, putting the key into the ignition. His sigh was muted under the car's roar of life. His forehead made contact with the steering wheel, letting his sorrows leak into the car's floor. Greg couldn't explain his tears, couldn't explain the grief he felt, he couldn't explain why he had needed to make sure Nick was okay, why he had to talk to him so badly, or why his refusal of his company made his heart hurt as it did. He was wrapped in a translucent blanket, with nowhere to go and no destination in sight. Greg didn't even understand his own problems.
"How much longer 'til I hit rock bottom?" he asked himself, shaking his head and switching gears. "Because I'm wearing thin."
Nick's head looked up towards the ceiling, slowly banging against the headboard. The room didn't have the same aura it did when Greg inhabited it as well, it didn't have the warmth in it that it had when he was there. The realization that he was just another patient, just another file to look at, just another case to stress over, hit him like someone smacked him over the head with his nine millimeter.
"Why, why, why..." Nick closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. "Why are you so dumb, Nick Stokes?"
What pained him the most that Greg's visits became so nix that he barely saw the man from then on. He came with the rest of the shift, when all of them were off and they all decided to see him, but he usually loitered in the background, not looking at him or speaking to him. He knew that he hurt the young man's feelings, his pride, and his dignity, but he had no medicine or tool to fix these things. Nick had no idea how to make up for his mistake. Or even why it had caused Greg to feel as bad as he did. He couldn't understand it.
On the days that Nick spent asleep, Greg would stare into the plexiglass, sighing over and over again, with his palm pressed against the wall. One would classify his gazes as longing, one would classify it has perverted, or peculiar. Many families and hospital staff would recognize him as the man that stood alone, at the window of room number thirty-seven, never speaking or moving or even showing any connection to Nicholas Stokes at all. His face was void from every emotion except sadness.
Greg switched his weight from his left foot to his right foot, from his right foot to his left foot. He couldn't stay still. He fought the tears that threatened to seep from his eyes, he fought the urge to sniffle. He had been standing for hours, staring into the window. His knees finally gave, sending him crashing to the ground, his head resting against the concrete wall below the window. His knees screamed in agony since he had not tried to soften the blow, but let himself fall without any knowing. Greg's hands covered his face and he masked his tears, openly crying and fully aware that everyone's eyes were on him.
There were emotions buried deep down inside himself, that sometimes he even didn't see. They had been buried there for almost his entire life, and they all rushed to his head, conceiving a thick layer of fog that settled just behind his eyes. A massive migraine began to form in his brain, making his thought process even more clouded than it had been before. He was spiraling and he could feel it, he knew it was happening to him. He was just standing in the sidelines, watching as his life was being slowly torn apart by the actions of a crazy, bitter man who blew himself up.
A nurse approached him, lending him an arm.
Greg didn't take it, he didn't even look at her. He stayed in his convenient cubby of seclusion.
"Sir, you can see Nick Stokes if you'd like. You don't have to stand out here like you've been doing."
"I know," Greg's voice was a mixture of emotions he didn't even know he had.
"Then why don't you go in?"
"He wants to be alone."
The woman squatted next to him. "Why?"
"I have no idea."
"When did he tell you that?"
Greg looked at the woman, not caring about his appearance. "The other day."
The nurse's eyes widened. "How do you know he doesn't want to have company today?"
"I don't."
She patted his back. "Go see him, sir. You never know."
Greg watched her retreating back. Face Nick? Listen to his handsome, bass voice? His throat started to dry up like the Sahara, and his palms started to sweat. His fingers twitched and his pulse picked up. Why was he reacting this way? Why was he so nervous, just thinking about talking to Nick?
He gulped and placed his hand onto the silver door knob. Greg's breath caught in his throat and he snatched back his hand as if the knob were on fire. He leaned his body against the door and hit his head against it, wondering how he would ever be able to face Nick again. It didn't make any sense. What Nick had said to him was barely even offensive; it was just a request to be left alone. So why did it effect him the way it did?
Thanks for the reviews. They make me giddy. Keep them coming and you'll get more chapters. xD
