A/N: Ah, yes, another chapter. And an extremely long one, for which I apologize. This baby just kinda mutated. The latter part of this chapter is pretty much a series of flashbacks detailing Nick and Greg's romance, and each flashback is in ITALICS. The main reason for the flashbacks is two-fold: firstly, I wanted to maked this chapter lighter than the previous and the ones to come, and secondly, with Greg pretty much incapacitated and Nick going to California, the amount of time to spend on their interactions is minimal, so the best way to do it is by looking back. Oh, and since the stupid line thing still isn't working, when you see "CSI:CRIMESCENEINVESTIGATIONCSI:CRIMESCENEINVESTIGATIONCSI:CRIMESCENEINVESTIGATION" it denotes a break in the story. Usual disclaimer applies; specific spoilers for Rashomama (621), Grave Danger (524), Play With Fire (322), and Daddy's Little Girl (612). About the Play with Fire Spoilers...If you watched 4 x 4, you know that in the decontamination shower, Greg didn't have any scars on his back. I think that was stupid and not well planned at all, so in this, he does. Next chapter will be back to the case. Read on, faithful ones!
Chapter Four
"We'll give it a shot"
Greg lay wide awake in Doc Robbins' office, trying to ignore the feeling that any second now he was going to see dead people. Whoever had thought it was a good idea to keep him quarantined in the morgue had obviously never spent quality time down here.
Involuntarily shivering, he reached out instinctively, finding nothing. He frowned deeply. How could anyone expect him to sleep without his full-body pillow? Fumbling for his phone, he scrolled through his contacts until he found "home". He pushed send and lay back, waiting. After all, he needed to check on his pillow anyway.
"Hello?" answered Nick, sounding tired.
"Hey, I didn't wake you, did I?" asked Greg concernedly.
"No, I was just about to turn on the TV or something and go through the motions of pretending to try to sleep," answered Nick, yawning loudly. His voice softened. "I'll take it you haven't been able to sleep, either?"
Greg sighed. "Not a wink."
"You need to sleep," said Nick gently. "You need to keep up your strength."
"I know, I know," grumbled Greg. "You're only, like, the tenth person to tell me that tonight." He paused and sighed again. "I miss you," he said softly, sounding far more childish than his thirty-one years. "You know I can't sleep without you."
"Do you want me to come down there and sleep with you?" offered Nick. "After all, everyone knows, so—"
"You told them?" asked Greg, grin breaking out on his face. "You really told them? What did they say?"
Nick sighed. "They were shocked, really. No one had any idea…well, except for Brass. And Warrick's pretty pissed at me now."
"I'm sorry," said Greg quietly.
"Greg baby, it's not your fault," said Nick, frown echoing in his voice. He paused. "Anyway, it's all good. But seriously, do you want me to come down there?" He paused again and sighed. "Truth is, I've gotten so used to you next to me that I can't sleep without it."
"If you want," said Greg, trying not to sound too eager. "And as long as it won't disrupt your road trip to California."
"It won't," said Nick with a grin. "I already showered and I'll bring a change of clothes." He paused, then asked tentatively, "Doc's office doesn't smell like death, does it?"
Greg shuddered. "Thank God, no," he said. His voice softened. "I'll see you in a few. I love you."
"Love you too. Bye."
Greg closed his cell phone and lay back against the pillow. The next half an hour was excruciatingly painful as he awaited Nick's arrival.
When he heard the morgue doors open and saw Nick standing there, Greg leapt up and wrapped his arms around him. "God, I've missed you," he whispered into Nick's shoulder as he buried his head in it.
Nick kissed him gently on the top of his head. "And I missed you, too, Greggo, but it's not as if we didn't see each other today."
"I know," said Greg quietly, still not letting go. "But it wasn't the same." He kissed him gently on the lips before looking down at the tiny cot. "Will we both fit?" he asked, arching an eyebrow at Nick.
Nick just smiled at him. "We'll fit," he said unconcernedly. "Don't worry, we'll fit." To prove his point, he lay down and pulled Greg down with him. Sure enough, wrapped in each other's arms, they fit. "See," whispered Nick, kissing Greg gently. "We fit. Perfectly."
Greg smiled sleepily and was about to reply when he started shaking. Nick had seen one of Greg's earlier tremors, but this one was worse. Greg shook like he was having a seizure, and the only thing Nick could do was wrap his arms even tighter around the younger man's body and whisper reassuring words even as their tears ran together over their cheeks.
Finally it was finished. Weakly, Greg sat up, kissing Nick. "Thank you," he whispered, wiping his eyes.
"For what?" asked Nick, brushing a stray tear off Greg's cheek.
"For being here with me…for telling them…for loving me."
Nick smiled softly as he kissed Greg deeply. "You make that part easy, Greggo," he whispered. "You make that easy."
The two lay back against the cot and fell quickly into a deep slumber, still holding each other as if they would never let go.
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Nick's watch went off at eight-fifteen the next morning. He tried to carefully detach himself from Greg, but the younger man just pulled him closer. Nick sighed as he gently shook Greg. "Greg, honey, you're gonna have to let me go now."
Greg cracked an eyelid and groaned. "Why?" he whined, not relinquishing his hold on Nick.
Nick smiled sadly. "Because I've got to go to California, silly," he said, trying to keep the mood light. He kissed Greg gently on the forehead. "C'mon, let me up."
"Fine," mumbled Greg as he reluctantly let go of Nick.
Nick stood, wincing as multiple joints cracked and popped. "Greg, I'm thinking we may want to get a bigger bed for tonight." Sighing, he pulled his shirt off. Greg's brown eyes darkened as he too stood, kissing from Nick's jaw down to his chest. Nick laughed throatily and gently pushed him away. "Greggo, we don't have time."
"Yes we do," whispered Greg, pulling Nick's hips flush to his. "I'll be quick, I promise," he said, licking Nick's ear.
"But Doc Robbins…" protested Nick weakly, allowing himself to be pulled onto the cot by Greg.
"…locked the door," finished Greg, already undoing Nick's belt. He looked at Nick, eyes serious. "Please, Nicky," he whispered. "I need this. I need you."
Nick had surrendered long ago and made no further attempt to stop the inevitable.
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It was exactly nine o'clock when Nick got to the parking lot at the crime lab. Brass was already waiting with two department cars. "I didn't want your truck to get stolen again," he said with a smirk.
Nick glared at him but couldn't help but smile. "Whatever, man," he said, clapping Brass on the shoulder before slipping into the driver's seat of one of the cars.
He was just about to turn on the radio when the passenger door opened. He looked over to see who it was. "Warrick!" he exclaimed, surprised and slightly wary. "I thought—"
"I got your back, Nick," said Warrick, offering a small smile. "No matter what. I know you had your reasons for not telling me, and I respect that. Hell, I didn't tell you about Tina right away. Look, I was stupid before." He paused and looked at Nick seriously. "Let's just catch this sick son of a bitch, alright?"
"You got it, man," said Nick with a grin, offering Warrick his hand. The other man shook it heartily and pulled him into a brief hug before settling back into his seat.
Nick pulled out of the parking lot, heading to I-15. As they worked their way through traffic, Nick turned on the radio, automatically changing it to one of Greg's favorite stations. Warrick looked at him oddly. "Didn't take you for a Manson fan."
Blushing, Nick quickly changed the station to country. "Sorry. I guess Greg's rubbed off on me."
"Yeah," said Warrick. He paused, then asked, "Alright, so since none of us were paying attention, when did you two get together?"
Nick frowned. He avoided looking at Warrick as he began to speak. "It was…it was after the coffin thing," he said softly, remembering…
Nick woke up slowly in the hospital room. For one brief second of pain, he felt like he was trapped in the box again. He whimpered softly and instantly heard Greg's voice ask, "Nick? Nicky, are you alright?"
Blinking, Nick looked over at Greg. "Greg?" he asked, reaching out almostunconsciously for the younger man's hand.
"Yeah, I'm here," said Greg soothingly, taking Nick's hand and squeezing it.
"I thought…I thought I was back in the coffin," whispered Nick, turning his head away. He took a deep, shuddering breath and asked in a much calmer voice, "Were you here all night?"
Greg shrugged, looking embarrassed. "Well, you know me," he said in a falsely cheerful voice. "Hospital chairs are totally my favorite type of chair."
Nick smiled weakly. "You didn't have to stay," he said. "I'm quite fine staying by myself."
Shrugging again, Greg stared off into the distance, eyes vague. "I thought you might want someone here in case of…in case of nightmares," he said quietly, voice strangely devoid of emotion.
In a sudden rush of gratitude, Nick realized that if anyone understood even a fraction of what he was going through, it was Greg; Greg, who had also had his life nearly snatched away from him in the blink of an eye. "Do they ever go away?" asked Nick quietly.
Greg smiled sadly and looked away. "Would you believe me if I said they did?"
"No," said Nick with a short, dry laugh.
"They get better," said Greg, this time meeting Nick's eyes. "Nicky, you left a part of yourself in that coffin, just like I left a part of myself in the burned wreckage of the lab. You will rebuild it, but it takes time."
Nick closed his eyes. "I just want to forget," he whispered. "Just forget it ever happened."
Greg's smile twisted. "You never forget," he said softly, dark eyes darkening in hidden pain. "There are always scars."
Lifting his eyes to Greg's, Nick asked quietly, "Can I see them? Your scars?"
Greg froze, eyes filled with fear. Slowly, he turned so his back was to Nick. He silently lifted his shirt up, showing the maze of scars stretching from shoulder to hip.
Nick reached out and touched them, tracing over the slightly uneven edges where they had to do skin grafts. He ran his fingers from Greg's hip up to his shoulder. Carefully turning Greg around to face him, he looked him in the eyes. "They're beautiful," he whispered, eyes searching his. "Tragically beautiful, but beautiful nonetheless."
Greg looked at him, and before either man knew what was happening, they were kissing, gently, sweetly and slowly. They broke apart and Greg ran his thumb over Nick's cheek. "I suppose now would be a good time to ask you out."
"I suppose so," agreed Nick, unable to stop the smile from spreading over his face.
"Very well. Nicholas Stokes, will you, once your strength is regained, go on a date avec moi, Gregory Sanders?"
"Yes," grinned Nick. "Yes, I will."
"And you've been together ever since," finished Warrick, smiling slightly.
Nick grinned and shook his head. "Not quite." At Warrick's confused glance, he elaborated. "See, Greg was the first guy I've ever…you know, been with."
"Really?" asked Warrick, raising his eyebrows. "Wow. So Greg turned you gay, huh?"
Nick chuckled dryly and rolled his eyes. "He didn't turn me gay," he said, trying not to sound exasperated. "He simply woke in me feelings that I had been denying all my life." He paused and looked straight ahead. "Feelings that I realized I should act on after…you know, the coffin."
Warrick smiled gently. "Chill man, I was joking." He paused, then groaned. "Ok, so I'm gonna pull a Cath on you, but I'm dying to know…where'd you go on your first date?"
Laughing aloud, Nick grinned at the memory. "Greg wouldn't tell me at first," he recalled. "He wanted it to be a surprise. He was a perfect gentleman…"
It was ten minutes before Greg was supposed to pick him up, and Nick was panicking. What was he supposed to wear? He had gone through his entire selection of button-downs and t-shirts with no avail, finding absolutely nothing he wanted to wear. Sighing, he rubbed his forehead. What would Greg wear?
An involuntary smile tugged at the corners of Nick's mouth as he pictured the ex-lab rat in one of his loud t-shirts, listening to equally loud music. He realized that Greg wouldn't care what he wore, so he grabbed a light blue t-shirt and pulled it on. He had just finished tying his shoes when the doorbell rang.
A bubble of tension rose in Nick's chest as he checked his watch. Right on time. He walked slowly to the front door, opening it to find an equally nervous Greg standing outside, brandishing a huge bouquet of yellow roses. "Pour toi," he said with an exaggerated bow.
Nick grinned and took them from him. "Merci beaucoup," he said, using the full extent of his French vocabulary. "Why yellow?"
Greg shrugged. "Isn't there a song about the yellow rose of Texas?" Nick nodded, chuckling, and Greg said in a horrible southern accent, "Well, baby, you're my yellow rose of Texas."
Nick nodded seriously and deadpanned, "And you're my cornball of Las Vegas."
Greg just grinned and kissed him gently on the cheek. "Good to know that I'm yours," he said, eyes glowing. "Now, shall we?" He offered Nick his arm.
Nick took it, trying not to laugh, and asked, "So, where to, Greggo?"
Mock-offended, Greg said in a terrible British accent, "'Tis a surprise, noble sir, and 'twould be against me honor if I told ye such a secret." He ushered Nick to the passenger door of his car, opening it and bowing to Nick as he sat down. He then slid across the hood of the car to get in on the driver's side. "You asked where to?" said Greg, grinning. "To paradise, with you."
"I'm trying to decide if Greg being gentlemanly is surprising or somehow expected," mused Warrick aloud. "The corny part was definitely expected, but a gentleman...?"
Nick grinned. "He was very much the gentleman all night," he said. "He pulled out my chair for me at Chez Pierre—"
"Oo, quite an expensive restuarant!" exclaimed Warrick.
"—And let me go first in bowling," finished Nick.
"Bowling?" laughed Warrick. "That was Greggo's idea of a romantic first date?"
Nick glared at him. "In his defense, he wanted to take me line-dancing, but the place was closed, so we did what we could." He smiled wistfully. "It was a lot of fun."
"So, when did you two move in together?" asked Warrick.
Nick started laughing. "It kinda happened by accident," he said, grinning. "See, Greg got kicked out of his apartment and needed a place to crash, and then he left his iPod at work and Hodges brought it over…"
Greg hung up his cell phone and settled back in on the couch, reaching with one hand for his PS2 controller and the other for his beer. "Hodges is dropping by," he informed Nick, taking a pull on a beer. "I left my iPod at work."
Nick shrugged, reaching for his own controller. "Fine by me," he said, stifling a yawn. He looked forlornly at the paused game. "G, you are kicking my ass in Need for Speed. Why am I even still playing?"
"Hey, you pwned me yesterday in Madden, remember?" said Greg defensively. "And I stuck it out for all four quarters. The least you could do is finish this race."
Nick rolled his eyes but unpaused the game, "Remind me again why I'm letting you stay here," he muttered.
"Because I'm your boyfriend and my landlord's a douche," said Greg calmly as he proceeded to lap Nick for the second time. "And Nicky, you wouldn't be losing so badly if you stopped crashing into walls."
"G, you can't blame your landlord for your neighbor's complaints about loud music at 3 AM," Nick reminded him, pressing a button on his controller. "And playing this game is not as easy as it looks."
"Ok, so the music was my fault," admitted Greg as he steered his car through a hairpin turn, "but he could've given me another chance! And now you know how I felt yesterday during Madden."
"He gave you five warnings," Nick pointed out. "And two of them were 'final' notices. And Madden's all strategy; if you didn't always run the same play, you might realize that."
Greg scowled as he deftly evaded a pursuing police officer by turning down a hidden shortcut. "Ok, fine, it was all my fault, happy? But it wasn't like I wasn't staying here most of the time anyway. And I happen to be very fond of the 'Hail Mary' play; brings out the good Catholic in me."
Nick stared at him. "Greg, you were raised Lutheran."
Greg shrugged as he crossed the finish line. "Lutheran, Catholic, it's all the same to me."
Blinking at him, Nick shrugged and stretched. "Alright, Greggo, I admit, you are Supreme Master of Need for Speed."
Greg smirked and held out his hand. "That was only half the bet, friend," he said cheekily. "Pay up."
Nick groaned and dug a crumpled twenty from his pocket. "Here," he grumbled standing and stretching before shuffling toward the kitchen. "Now I need a beer."
The doorbell rang and Greg called, "I'll get it!" He went to the front door and threw it open. "David!" he said cheerfully.
Hodges glared at him. "Don't call me David," he said sullenly, thrusting Greg's iPod at him.
"Aw, shucks, David, that's so nice of you," said Greg flirtatiously, batting his eyelashes at him.
"Hey Hodges!" called Nick in greeting from the kitchen. "Greg, we need more beer!"
"Put it on the grocery list!" shouted Greg back, rolling his eyes. "You're the one in the kitchen."
Nick came out of the kitchen, opening a beer. "Put it on the list yourself," he retorted.
Hodges looked from Greg to Nick, a light seeming to go on in his head. "So, are you two…?" he started, trailing off.
Greg and Nick shared a quick look before Nick blurted out, "Oh, we're not—"
At the same time, Greg started, "It's not—" He stopped and looked at Nick, a small smile on his face. "Would you like to explain it, or shall I?"
Nick visibly relaxed, a smile forming on his own features. "Greg's only staying here temporarily, until he finds a new apartment. See, he was just kicked out of his old one—"
"Unfairly evicted," corrected Greg, giving him a look.
"Unfairly evicted from his old apartment," amended Nick, rolling his yes, "and he needed a place to stay for a few weeks, and I've got plenty of room here, so…"
"I pay rent," said Greg, picking up when Nick trailed off. "And I buy groceries and cook and—"
"If you can call that cooking," snorted Nick.
Greg gave him a dirty look. "I do call it cooking," he snapped, glaring at the Texan, who merely rolled his eyes.
"G, most people don't equate cooking with ramen noodles and burnt toast," said Nick patiently. "Most chefs would never consume the same foods you seem to inhale, let alone pride themselves on the ability to make them."
"Either way," continued Greg through clenched teeth, "it's a nice, pleasant living situation." He paused. "Even if Nick does hide his porn stash in the guest bedroom."
"Greg!" yelped Nick in a strangled voice, turning bright red.
Hodges watched this entire exchange with a small smile on his face and a strange look in his eyes. "Well," he said loudly, "as fascinating as Nick's self-love life undoubtedly is, I think it's time for me to take my leave."
"Bye David!" said Greg cheerfully. "Thanks for bringing me my iPod!"
Hodges waved once and left, shutting the door behind him. Greg looked at Nick. "You don't think he knows, do you?"
Nick snorted. "Nah…what could've possibly given it away?"
"So then, what, Greg just never really left?"
Nick sobered quickly. "He almost did," he said quietly. "It was right after the Kelly Gordon thing…remember, when she committed suicide?"
"I remember," said Warrick quietly.
"Yeah, I had just gotten home from work, and Greg was there and we had a huge fight and it was just horrible."
Frowning, Warrick asked, "What did you two fight about?"
Nick blushed and looked down. "I couldn't tell him that I loved him," he whispered, blushing. "So he got mad at me and said that until I was no longer ashamed of our relationship, we no longer had a relationship. And then he said he was leaving…"
"Greg, don't…don't go," said Nick softly, dark eyes pleading. "Stay here, with me."
"Nick—" started Greg with a sigh, but Nick cut him off.
"For free. No rent, no groceries, no cooking. Just you and me. And maybe we can even get that little dog you wanted." He paused, still looking at him. "Please."
"Move in with you permanently?" asked Greg, just as softly. "Why would you want me to move in with you?"
Nick exhaled heavily; the conversation was obviously not going the way he planned. "I think you know why people ask someone to move in with them," he said dryly.
Greg stepped closer to him. "I know why 'people' do, yeah, but why are you?" Nick didn't say anything, looking away and swallowing hard. Greg moved in closer. "Say it," he breathed, taking Nick's hand. He met Nick's gaze, eyes searching his. "Three words, Nicky," he whispered, tears threatening to spill over. "That's all I've ever wanted. Three words."
"I…I can't," whispered Nick, looking away again.
Greg swallowed hard and dropped Nick's hand. "Fine," he said flatly, turning to leave. "I'll see you at work."
"Wait," said Nick, grabbing Greg's arm. Greg turned and looked back at him, carefully controlled expression masking whatever he felt. "G, I…" started Nick, stammering slightly as he looked into Greg's eyes. "I love you."
Greg stared at him, not moving, eyes searching his. He mouthed the words to himself and then tears overflowed. Closing the distance between them in one stride, Greg kissed Nick so hungrily, so passionately that Nick almost fell backwards.
"Whoa, G!" laughed Nick, pushing him away gently. "Let's slow down for a second, cowboy. I think you've got four words of your own to say to me now."
Greg just grinned. "I love you, too," he whispered, leaning in and kissing him again. "Forever and always. I love you."
"And then Greg just never really left," finished Nick, tears in his eyes as he remembered that. "He kept his apartment to crash at and as a decoy, but he made my place his primary residence—meaning he kept all his hair products there."
They both fell silent as they passed a sign that said Pasadena, their destination, was in twenty miles. "Thank you," said Warrick softly.
"For what?" asked Nick, confused.
Warrick met his eye. "Now I know exactly what I'm fighting for."