A/N: Hurray! Next chapter :)

Thanks for the review! You know who you are ;)

Greg had been wondering around the lab after he changed his clothes and dropped them off with Finn. Many people had told him to go home, and as tired as he was, he just couldn't bring himself to drive back to an empty apartment. It wasn't that he was scared of being attacked again, but it was more of a foreboding feeling. Comfort right now, was walking the halls of the busy lab, distracting himself with "work" that Russell had given him which mainly meant he was a delivery boy for the different labs. As much as he wanted to do real work, he knew that anything he processed would probably be half-assed and sloppy, and Greg was nothing less than precise with his work, so at the moment he was content with just walking from lab to lab, observing others do their jobs. Right now he was sitting at a break table sipping a large cup of coffee and staring at the refrigerator magnets. His thought's were racing but every movement he made felt like he was lifting 200 lbs. Every time he blinked, he wasn't sure if he could lift his eyelids back up. Greg's mind kept rolling over what his attacker had said too. Until next time. In that moment, Greg's eyes went wide.

He leaned his forehead on the table and muttered, "Shit."At that moment Nick walked in noticing a half asleep Greg on the table.

"What's shit?" Greg leaned up quickly, not wanting Nick to see him so worried.

"Hmm? Oh it's nothing. Did you need something?" Greg tried to look "normal" as he sipped his coffee but almost coughed as it burned down the wrong pipe. Nick looked skeptical at his friend.

"I think you need to go home Greg. You've been up for more than 40 hours. You need sleep." Greg was about to protest when Nick held up his hand to stop him. "Get your stuff I'm taking you home." Greg surrendered. He took one last big gulp of coffee than headed to his locker. A little while afterwords he was sitting in the passenger seat of Nick's Tahoe, leaning his arm against the window and his head against his arm. Nick had been stopped at a red light and took the moment to assess his recently damaged friend. Throughout the years, Nick had grown to love the quirky guy beside him. What started out as respect towards a colleague, became a deep bond of brothers. Greg had become not only a trusted coworker, but a confidant.

After he had been kidnapped and buried alive, Nick had been a complete mess. He kept seeing the walls crumbling around him and felt ants crawling in his skin. One day, Nick had scratched his skin so bad he left a bloodied mess running from his wrist to his elbow. He had to see a doctor a week later when it got infected. Somehow his friends had found out and later that night, when he was sitting alone at his dining room table avoiding the dinner he made, he heard a knock at his door. He opened it and found Greg and Warrick holding a case of beer and a couple of movies. Nick gestured for them to come in and they made themselves comfortable on his couch after setting up the DVD. Throughout the night he kept expecting either Greg or Warrick to ask him how he was doing. He purposely sat away from them so they never had the chance but they never tried and eventually he relaxed and drank his beer. After the first movie Greg went to pick up pizza leaving Nick and Warrick alone in the apartment. An awkward silence filled the room as each stared at their beers or their watch.

Nick said, "Hey, I just wanted to thank you for coming over. After all the required therapy sessions, I really appreciate you guys not prying into my emotions. You have no idea how bad I needed this."

Warrick turned to him with a puzzled look, "You're right I didn't. Apparently Greg did though." Nick was confused.

"What do you mean?"

"Well this afternoon I got a call from him saying that you wanted us over to hang out. I didn't realize he had set this all up. He also told me he'd reimburse me for the beer but I haven't seen a penny yet." Nick had a small smile on his face. Warrick became serious."He's been a CSI for what, 2 years? And he's already catching thing's I've missed. Like when a friend need's to just drink a cold beer and forget about his problems. You know I'm always here for you right?" Nick nodded reassuringly. "And apparently when I'm not, Greg will be there to have your back. He's a good kid, we've taught him well." Warrick gave him a winning smile. "Now we just need to teach him to pay his debts."

Nick returned to the present and began driving once more. It was a bittersweet memory. Warrick had been right, once he passed away, Greg had been there for him with a cold beer and a bad movie. It took them awhile to talk about Warrick, but eventually they started reliving good memories together and moving on, despite the guilt he felt for leaving his best friend in the past. Nick knew that this job put you in harms way every day, and while it was hard to think that anyone of them could be gone the next day, he couldn't imagine fighting the battle with anybody else. This family that they had built with trust, fights, and sweat was the strongest he had ever been a part of and he thanked God everyday for them.

Now that one of them had once again been in a close call, Nick began opening old wounds. It wasn't that he was remembering a specific memory, but a feeling that went with the situation. When Sara was taken, he was scared out of his mind. When Greg was attacked, he was madder than hell. When Warrick died he was lost and destroyed. Now they all circled together and he couldn't make head's or tail's of what he wanted to do- hunt the man down or stay behind and help Greg heal. He was at a loss and before he knew it he was pulling up to Greg's apartment.

Nick stopped the car and realized Greg had fallen fast asleep with a frown on his face. He didn't want to disturb him- just get him a blanket and pillow and let him sleep right there. Eventually he got his voice.

Nick whispered gently, "Greg, hey Greg. We're at your place man." There was no response. Nick said it louder this time. "Hey Greg. Come on man, let's get you into your nice comfortable bed." Still no response. He leaned over and gently touched his arm when all of a sudden Greg snapped his eyes open and jerked his body out of Nicks reach. He had a terrified look on his face and took in a quick shallow breaths. Nick just eased his arm back into his lap, worried about his friend.

"Sorry Greg, I was just trying to get you up. We're at your place." Greg slowly looked around realizing he wasn't in his nightmare and descended back into his seat, completely embarrassed by his over reaction.

"Sorry Nick, didn't mean to snap at you." Greg unlatched his seat belt and got out of the truck. Before he closed the door he leaned his head in slightly and said, "I'll see you at work tonight then. Thank's for the lift." Greg reluctantly closed the door and looked up to his apartment. That foreboding feeling still lingered with him and it took what was left of his courage to finally walk ahead. Nick sensed his hesitance with every step.

Before Greg could get too far away, Nick got out of the truck and said, "Hey, if you want, you can stay at my place." Greg very much wanted to say yes, but his ego said no. After being victimized recently he didn't want anyone to think he was afraid of the dark.

"Thank's Nick, but I can handle it." Greg finally went inside. Nick stayed behind and waited until he saw Greg turn his lights on.

A couple minutes later Greg arrived on the third floor. He slowly walked to his apartment and unlocked his door. He took a deep breath before pushing it open expecting the worse- two men to be sitting there waiting for him, a murder scene, ravaging dogs, anything really. But his apartment was just as he had left it- empty. But the foreboding feeling didn't go away. He eased into his apartment, turning on every light along the way. Off to his right was his kitchen which opened up into the living room.

Everything in his apartment still had the newly renovated look. Everything was brand new, modern, and clean. His kitchen had brand new floors and a fresh paint job that splashed the wall with a bright green. His living room had been painted the same color but was balanced with the many pieces of art and antiques passed down to him from his grandparents.

Right after Greg had been attacked by the wannabe gangsters in 2007, and was released from the hospital, he came home to find his entire apartment redone and his friends waiting for him inside with grins on their faces. He was completely taken off guard.

Catherine walked up to him, gave him a big hug, and said, "I hope you don't mind we attacked your place."

Sara chimed in, "When I came to get your stuff for the hospital, I didn't realize I would be walking into a time capsule. Your furniture belonged in the 70's and your kitchen belonged in the stone age. None of the appliances were working properly. So everyone chipped in, and switched up a couple things. We still have all the stuff if you want it back." Greg was speechless. He ran his left hand over the smooth granite counter top as he looked around at all the new things in his place. The others all looked at him anxiously, not sure whether he would accept the gift or hate the drastic change.

Greg finally said, "It's missing something." Greg went to his bedroom, still taking in all the new pieces and the different colors. He went to his closet, which thankfully was still the mess he had left it, and grabbed his camera. When he came back the others were huddled together whispering to each other, when he stepped in the room they went silent. He held out his camera with a grin, "I need a recent picture." The others smiled back to him and got into a group. Greg went to take the picture before Nick said, "Uh uh, your getting in here too. Put the timer on it." Greg lowered the camera hesitantly. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. Bruises covered his face like a mask. He still had a bandage wrapped around his skull and his arm was in a sling. He didn't want another reminder of how damaged he was. Nick walked up to him and placed a comforting arm gently around his shoulders.

"The damage on the outside is only temporary but you'll always be the same to us. When we look at this picture we won't see a destroyed boy, we'll see a brave man who we were honored to take a picture with." Nick gave a him a big smile, giving him a light shake until he smiled back sheepishly.

Greg placed the camera on a shelf and started the timer, "You guys just couldn't wait two more weeks, could you?"

Warrick held out his arm and said, "Nope, now get over here." Greg stood between Nick and Warrick with the two girls on the outside, each had a big grin on their face.

The light memory, was just a reminder of the dark circumstances he found himself in now. Each room he checked though came up empty and he finally conceded and flopped down on his bed. He looked at his alarm clock. The time read 6:23 A.M. Greg had to go back to work in 12 hours. Before he could even kick off his shoes, Greg was already in a dreamless sleep.

About 5 hours later Greg awoke to a crashing noise in his living room. His eyes burst open and he immediately reached for his hand gun beside his bed. He quietly got out of bed and hid beside his bedroom door. He leaned his head around, heart pounding matching his shaking leg. He blinked a couple times to see clearly, barely registering the small migraine setting in. He walked down his hallway gun first and slowly approached his living room. He looked around carefully for the source of the noise. He paused and listened. In the kitchen he heard a faint clicking noise and heavy breathing. He dug deep down , mustering up enough crazy to see what it was before rounding the kitchen island. He pointed his gun towards the floor only to find that he was aiming at a cat licking milk from around a broken glass. Greg relaxed his body, finding the breath he had held in.

"John Stamos, what are you doing in here?" John Stamos, the cat, belonged to the neighbor. Sometimes she would climb the railing and pop into his apartment. Greg picked up the cat, scratching his neck for comfort, and took him to his balcony. "You nearly gave me a heart attack." He closed his balcony door and leaned on the wall beside it, relishing in the relief. He started cleaning up the mess in the kitchen when he realized-he didn't leave a glass of milk on the counter. Nor did he leave his balcony door open. His heart began pounding again, surely aggravated by the constant cycle of panic. He didn't finish cleaning before he decided to leave. He went to his room and grabbed his phone and keys. On his way out a man was waiting for him in the kitchen.

A/N: I can get really cheesy sometimes :P

Thank's for reading!