Chapter Four – Misfortune

After a successful day in court, Greg proudly strutted through the lab halls, completely forgetting about the rumours being spread around by their local lab gossip. He approached the DNA lab as he saw Floyd in a fluster, feeling as though he could take on the whole world right about now. "Hey, what's going on in here?"

"Oh, Mr Sanders. I mean, Greg… nothin," The word caught in the fumbling young man's throat. He dropped the file from his hands, stuffing his hands on his hips. "I guess I'm just freaking out a little. I've got a huge backlog from day shift, but Grissom wants me working the beatings as a priority."

"Don't worry about, Ecklie." Feeling as though he could take on the whole world right now, Greg assured him, "I'll deal with the backlash. There's a gang of thugs out there attacking random people on the streets. I think he'd agree that this takes priority over the old lady who locked her husband in the freezer after he died so she could keep cashing in his cheques."

"Yeah," Grateful for the help, Floyd gave out a sigh of relief. "You're right." He bent to gather the file he had dropped, finally realising what the other man was wearing. "Hey, what's with the suit, Mr Sanders?"

"Oh, I was just in court." Greg dusted down his suit jacket, excited for Nick to see him wearing it. He hoped they could wear something similar for their wedding day, but he would have to make sure Nick liked it first. "Today was my first jury trial. We freaking buried the guy. It was bad ass. I dropped the hammer. He was squirming in his seat. The prosecutor was so happy, she took me to dinner."

"Nice one." Floyd raised his hand, giving it a little wiggle.

"Thanks." Greg smiled back, before he returned the high five. "And Floyd, call me Greg. No one calls me, Mr Sanders." He warned him again. "You know I'm not that much older than you. I was right here in the lab where you are not that long ago."

"Right… sorry, Greg." He nervously bit his lower lip. "It's just that… I really… I think you're…"

"Greg," Grissom poked his head into the lab, holding a huge stack of files in his hands. He watched the younger man in the lab coat quickly backing away, before he cast his eyes towards Greg. "I'm glad you're back. I heard what happened. Congratulations." He gave him a half smile. "Now lose the monkey suit, you've got a scene to process. Liquor store robbery. Here's the address." He dug out the assignment slip from between his files. "Detective Curtis is on scene waiting for you. Take a Denali, not your death trap."

"Uh… okay, but I'm lab bound." He reminded him. "Ecklie has me…"

"I don't care what Ecklie says. You're still on my team and we're short staffed. I need you out in the field." Grissom shoved the assignment slip into his hand. "Detective Curtis is waiting for you. She's already got a statement from the owner of the liquor store." He turned for the door, eager to solve this case before someone else was attacked.

"Alright," Greg waved to the young lab tech, hurrying out the door after his boss. "Gris, is this related to the earlier 415s? I uh, overheard it on the radio." He confessed. "Relax; I'm not turning into some work junkie. You've already got Sara for that. I just wanted to know what was going on."

"It could be. Nothing is certain yet." The man shuffled through his files, making his way towards his office. "Sofia's got one of the suspect's sweaters. Store owner claimed there were at least ten suspects, all hooded. He said their faces were covered with Halloween masks."

"Masks?" Greg queried. "Halloween's over."

"Not for these guys. They're either using them to conceal their identity or it's all just a game to them. Hopefully this means they've got a few priors under their belt. Our store owner grabbed one of them on the way out, tore their hoodie off. I need you to seal it and bring it back here along with anything else you can find in the store. Make sure you check the surrounding area too."

"Alright," Greg double checked the address in his hands. "Who's my wingman?"

"You're a big boy, Greg." Grissom elbowed the door to his office open. "You don't need a wingman for this." He flashed him a smile, letting the door close behind him. He had a speech to prepare for his press conference later. He was hoping that Brass would do it, but Ecklie was rather insistent that he needed to do it.

"Primary. Cool." Greg smiled to himself, clicking his heels together as he hurried for the locker room. He carefully hung his suit up on a coat hanger, making sure it didn't get any creases as he hung it inside his locker. He made sure to turn his phone back on before he left the room, smiling at the sight of the message from his boyfriend wishing him luck for court.

After today, he felt like the luckiest man on earth.

With his kit in his hand, Warrick sucked in a sharp breath, joining his former best friend's side at their scene. He really didn't want to talk about what he saw earlier, but on the other hand, he really needed to know. They had to work beside each other every day. He couldn't work beside him worrying about all the secrets he was keeping from him.

Catherine was right; he needed to talk to him.

"Hey."

"Hi." Nick responded.

All his courage instantly drained.

Warrick cleared his throat, focusing on the scene in front of them instead. Screw Catherine, she didn't know what she was talking about. Guys didn't talk about stuff like this. They bottled it and ignored it.

"I don't see a bar anywhere around here. Our vic must've been either going to or coming from the strip." He focused on the case.

Nick glanced around the dank and dark alleyway they were stood in. "But she shouldn't have been walkin' around here. Couldn't pick a shadier part of town, man."

Warrick cracked a slight grin. "You know these tourists don't know what they're getting when they book a trip to Vegas online." He knelt down, examining the blood splatter on the ground. "They think 'I got a room on the strip for seventy five bucks. Whoo, what a deal'."

"Then they mosey through the naked city with their thousand dollar cameras." The Texan knelt down to the ground, snapping a picture of their victim's smashed up camera on the ground. "Next thing you know, we're takin' their picture."

Warrick opened his kit, snapping on some gloves to get to work. He figured they would have plenty of time to talk about what he saw later. For now, he wanted to focus on the case and get these thugs behind bars.

Checking the address Grissom had given him, Greg took the turning for the liquor store, driving through a dimly lit street that resembled the start of an apocalypse. He slowed the car as he heard glass breaking, pulling to a full stop at the end of a long dark alleyway. He leaned over the wheel to get a close look, reaching for his radio as he spotted the crowd of people in hoodies, swarming a man on the ground.

"Control, control, this is CSI Sanders. I need some help."

The radio crackled to life. "Control, go with your information."

"Okay, I got an assault in progress. One alley south of Casino central drive," He looked around for any signs. He relayed the directions to the woman, waiting for her to respond.

"How many suspects involved?"

"Multiple suspects. Could be the guys who've been doing it all night."

After a beat, the female operator answered, "The closest unit has a five minute ETA. Rolling code three. Are they armed?"

Greg watched the group kicking the man on the ground, refusing to give up. "I don't know. I don't know. Ma'am, please listen. You got to get here quicker than this."

"Copy that. We'll roll two additional units ASAP. Wait for backup."

Greg felt his heart racing in his chest. How could he possibly sit there and watch a man being beaten to death? He was screaming for help, desperately trying to crawl away but the monsters had him pinned.

He wouldn't survive much longer.

Going against his better judgement, Greg put the Denali in drive, turning for the alley. He drove towards them slowly, honking his horn and flashing his lights to disrupt them from their brutal beating. He hammered his fist against the horn as they refused to budge, yelling, "Move! Get out of here!" He flipped the siren as a last ditch attempt, watching them dispersing down the hidden alleys.

One attacker remained, turning to face the approaching vehicle.

Greg gulped hard, wondering what else he could possibly do. He felt a tremble running down his spine from their intense stare. It was like a classic scene from a horror movie, only this time he wanted to stop watching and hide under the covers.

The attacker turned away from him, kicking the victim in the side as though Greg wasn't even there.

At this distance, Greg could see the blood pooling around the victim. He couldn't crawl away anymore and there appeared to be glass sticking out of his arm. The attacker turned away from the lifeless victim, his eyes glowing eerily, unnaturally in the shine of the car headlights.

Greg remained still.

He had to be dreaming. This couldn't be real.

The suspect ran to the side of the alley, picking up a large rock. He made a motion as if to bash in the victim's head with it, deciding to run for Greg in the truck instead.

Greg hit the gas.

The truck lunged forward, striking down the hooded monster.

"Shit." Greg gasped for breath, his heart racing in his throat. He anxiously licked his lips, feeling his hands shaking against the wheel. What had he done? He couldn't even feel his feet, but somehow he had made the decision to run a man down. He tried leaning forwards to look for him. His CSI brain was already calculating the possible implications and injuries the man had suffered from his split second decision. He couldn't see him. He couldn't hear any movement.

Was it even safe for him to go check?

The window in the back of the Denali suddenly smashed open.

Greg spun round to see what was going on, another window smashing to pieces as something was thrown into his truck. He reached a hand out for his radio, glass shattering over his lap as the driver's side window caved in on him. He was pulled from the truck by the window, receiving a kick to the stomach. Another fist collided with the side of his head, sending him crashing into a chain link fence. He could taste blood in his mouth, his ribs breaking and the sounds of laughter filling his rattling ear drums.

Pain trembled through every inch of his battered form with no signs of stopping.

This wasn't a dream. It was a nightmare.

"Excuse me, excuse me…" Sara desperately pushed her way through the crowd of on lookers, showing her ID to the deputy trying to hold them back. She couldn't believe it when Grissom gave her the news. She still didn't believe it. How could one of their own been involved in these attacks?

The deputy lifted the tape to let her through, pointing her towards the Detective trying to get statements from the first witnesses.

"Demetrius!" A woman shouted. The deputy holding her back tried to console her, but she was clearly a distraught mother. "Please let me see my son. Demetrius! I just want to talk to him. He's my baby boy. Please." She begged them. "I just want to see him."

"I'm sorry, Ms James." Sofia softly shook her head. "It's a crime scene. I can't let you pass. Please, just let them do their jobs."

"Please." She cried, tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Your son is being attended to. I promise. Sara, hey." Sofia caught sight of her, ushering her through.

Sara's breath caught in her throat. A middle aged man was being loaded onto a gurney by paramedics. The man in the hoodie she could only guess was Demetrius James was being attended to by paramedics, but Greg was lying by himself in the middle of the carnage.

"Why… why isn't there a medic on Greg?"

"He's been stabilised already. Sara, he's going to be okay." Sofia tried to assure her. "There's another ambulance on the way. Stanley Tanner took priority." She pointed out the victim on the gurney. "He's alive because of Greg." She gave the woman a slight smile, before she returned to Ms James.

Breathing in a deep breath, Sara crossed the alleyway, lowering herself to Greg's side. He was covered in blood. His face was a swollen bloody mess. She couldn't even tell if he was breathing, until one of his eyes attempted to open. She could only tell because his long lashes were twitching.

Sara gently placed her hand on his head, lightly stroking her fingers through his hair to offer what little comfort she could in a situation like this.

"Sara." He croaked.

"Greg… I-I didn't think you could see me."

"I can't…" He sucked in a breath through his swollen jaw. "But I know that Sidle scent."

Sara cracked a grin, wondering how he always managed to put a smile on her face. "I'm going to take that as a compliment." She glanced up to watch the deputy desperately trying to hold back Ms James. She sniffled back her own tears, turning her attention back to Greg. "I uh… I didn't get a chance to call Nick yet…"

"Don't." He choked, breathing in a raspy breath. "He'll only worry."

"It's his job to worry about you, Greg. He loves you."

"Don't." He spoke softly, raising his hand from his side. "I scratched one of them." He presented her with his fingernails.

The woman took his hand, careful not to contaminate the evidence.

"And you should check my vest. I think the same guy s-spit on me." He breathed in a raspy breath through his aching jaw. "One of their cars crashed into the Denali. I guarantee there's transfer on it. You should process the scene now. Me later."

Sara brushed away a tear threatening to spill with her other hand, giving him a smile. "I came here for you, Greg. I'm only here for you." She returned to gently stroking her fingers through his hair, waiting for his ambulance to arrive. She rode with him to the hospital, unable to stop her tears from flowing as she watched one of the Day Shift CSIs processing him as evidence before they could even tend to his wounds.

Mostly at Greg's insistence to preserve any evidence from the suspects.

"Sara," A familiar face weaved through the busy waiting room, making his way towards her. He took her hands into his own, looking at the smudges of makeup beneath her eyes. "Honey, I came as soon as I could. I've assigned Warrick and Nick to the scene."

"Oh… no, you can't." She feared Nick's reaction to such a horrible sight. "He can't… he won't be able to…" Her once bottled tears started to flow once again, thankful that her significant other was here this time to hold her in his arms. "I'm not sure I can do this anymore, Gil."

"We'll find who did this." He assured her.

Sara shook her head, pulling back from the man. "No, I'm not sure I can deal with any of this anymore. After Nick… I… I can't see another one of my friends go through something like this. What if the next one is a body? I just can't do it anymore, Gil." She pulled away from him before he could talk her down, making a run for the nearest exit.

"Sara…"

"Gil, you're here." Ecklie gave the man a curious look. "I uh… I came as soon as I heard. I'm putting as many of my guys as I can spare on this case. We'll find these thugs. Have you been in to see Sanders yet?"

"Yes," Grissom turned to face his colleague rather than waiting for Sara to return. "I wasn't allowed to stay though. They had to do a procedure on his eye to save his sight."

"I understand you've sent Nick and Warrick to process his scene."

"Yes." Grissom sensed an argument coming. "They were already in the area. They're professionals, Conrad."

"There's a conflict of interest on this case and you know it, Gil. Do you want this case to go to trial?"

"They're not involved in the case. There's no conflict of interest. My guys are going to work their hardest to get whoever is doing this. Shouldn't that be the priority here?" Grissom elbowed him out of the way as he pushed past him, eager to check on Sara. He didn't like the way she was talking and didn't fancy busting her out of another drink driving charge.

Kneeling down beside the Denali, Nick bit back his tears, trying to focus on the job rather than worrying about his boyfriend. He carefully scraped off the red paint transfer from the side of the truck, noticing glass with smears of blood on them at his feet. He couldn't do this. He needed to see Greg.

"So what, did somebody else get a beat down?" A kid in a baseball cap yelled, making the anger boil to the Texan's surface. "You bitches haven't caught them cats yet?"

"Excuse me?" He spun to glare at the little punk.

Sensing the anger in his voice, Warrick stepped forwards, motioning for them to step back. "Hey, you fellas want to keep it moving? We're trying to work here."

"You call that working?" Another kid cracked up. "Why is there an ass whupping on every other block?"

Nick lunged to his feet, storming past his partner to get to the little punks mouthing off. "There's about to be an ass whuppin' on this block." He threatened him.

"Is that right?" The kid challenged him. He looked as though he was barely fourteen years old. He had a mouth full of hardwire and a pimple ready to explode on his chin. Nick had nephews the same age as him.

"That's right." He moved closer.

"Hey," Warrick caught his buddy's arm. "Nick, c'mon man. Cool it."

"Man, you're weak." The older kid in the baseball cap laughed. "Weak, weak, weak."

"Officer." Warrick called the deputy over before the Texan blew his top. "Clear these kids out of here."

"Move it." The officer grabbed the younger kid, pushing him up against the wall to search him.

"Hey, you can't do this." The young teen protested. "I'll say what I want."

"Get out of here." The officer pushed him through the crowd, following him to make sure he actually left.

His buddy in the baseball cap laughed, holding up his hands in a surrender pose. "I'm sorry. You're not weak." He grinned as Nick approached him.

"Nick." Warrick shot him a warning. "Nick."

Leaning forwards, the kid looked Nick in the eye, smirking, "You're a joke."

As his friend turned to face him, Warrick shook his head, hoping he would just walk away.

Nick spun, punching the punk in the stomach.

"Nick." Warrick lunged forwards, grabbing the man in an arm lock. He shoved him away from the angry crowd, rolling his eyes as the officers quickly gathered to stop the crowd from rallying together.

"Anybody get that on video?" The punk pulled out his phone. "Man, I'll take a picture myself."

Warrick quickly snatched the phone from his hands, taking a quick look. "That's a nice phone you got there, man. A real nice phone. Wonder how many drug dealers' numbers you got squared away in this thing." He ducked under the tape, eyeing up the young punk. "Feel like going to jail tonight? Listen, I'm sorry about the little spill you had earlier, but that's why we got the crime tape up, so you could see it. Watch where you're going next time." With the phone in his hand, he pushed it into the punk's chest. "Get out of here. Go on."

He watched him walking away, ducking back under the tape to join his colleague.

"What the hell are you doing, man?" He snapped at the angry Texan. "We beating people up now?"

"I'm sick of these punks, man." Nick anxiously paced back and forth. "I'm serious, I'm sick of it."

"Then you're in the wrong town."

"Yeah. Maybe." Nick took off, dropping to the back of their own Denali as his heart started to race. He dropped his head into his shaky hands, his breathing whistling through his throat. He tried the breathing techniques his shrink had given him, but he could feel the walls closing in on him.

He had an overwhelming feeling of being trapped.

"Look, Nick." Warrick joined his side, anxiously scratching his head. "I know that being here isn't easy. It's not easy for me either. This is Greg and I know that you… I know about… but you can't go around punching people, man. Even if they do deserve it." He took another step closer, noticing the trembles in his legs as he panted for breath. His breathing became whistled through his tightening throat. "Nick? Nick." He dropped to his knees in front of him, pulling his hands away from his head. "What's wrong?"

"I can't… I-I…"

"Alright, aright," Warrick caught on. "It's a panic attack. You've gotta calm down."

"Can't…" Nick tugged at his shirt collar. "I can't…"

"Yes you can." He supported his best friend. "Deep breaths."

Nick's breathing became more rapid.

"Nothings gonna happen to you, man." Warrick tried to assure him. "I'm here. Just breathe."

Nick shook his head.

"Nicky, breathe." He took in a deep breath of his own. He couldn't remember all the training from the first aid class he took, but he recalled a few things. "C'mon, slowly… in through your nose… out through your mouth… slow, Nick." He breathed with him. "You'll be okay. It's just a panic attack."

As his vision began to return, Nick wiped his hands across his cheeks, brushing away his tears.

"Ya'ight?" Warrick gave him a curious look. "Are you still with me?"

"I can't… I can't do this."

"I know, man. I know." Warrick spoke softly, straightening up. "I uh… I know about you and Greg." He watched the blood draining from his face. "Yeah, I… I saw you the other day. You kissed him, Nick. The way that you look at him… it's obvious. I don't know why I didn't see it before." He gave him a half smile. "Hey, it's okay… seriously, I don't care who you love, Nick." He stopped him from relapsing into another panic attack. "Breathe… I don't want you passing out on me."

Nick clutched at his chest. His heart felt as though it was about to explode.

"You shouldn't be here, Nicky." Warrick spoke softly. "You can't process Greg's scene. I'll get one of the deputies to drive you to the hospital. I can finish up here. Take a minute. I'll get you some water."

"I-I wanted to tell you." Nick finally found his voice to speak.

"But you didn't." Warrick backed away from him, wondering if they could still be friends after this. He didn't know if he could trust him again, but he wasn't about to leave him on his own.

"It's… good to see you awake." Graveyard shift supervisor, Gil Grissom anxiously watched over the youngest member of his team from the foot of his hospital bed. He watched him breathing in a raspy deep breath through his swollen lips. His eyes still swollen shut with bright purple puffy bruises, but the doctor's assured him that it was no longer crushing his eye. He would gladly trade places with him, but he knew that wasn't possible. "Greg… I'm really…"

"Sorry?" Greg choked out, managing the slightest smile. "I went down that alley."

"Yes… you did." Grissom smiled proudly. "And you saved a man's life. I stopped by to see him first. He can't stop singing your praises. He told me to find the man who saved him and give him a big thank you." He winced watching Greg uncomfortably shifting himself beneath the covers. "Has someone called your parents? We should call and let them know what happened."

"Mmph." Greg grumbled.

"What's the matter?"

"No, nothing it's just…" Relaxing back against his pillow, Greg could already hear his mother's voice in his head, giving him a lecture on the dangers of the world. He figured she'd bring out the 'I told you so' speech after this. "My parents… they still think I'm in the lab."

Grissom gave him a confused look. "Why do they think that?"

"Maybe because I never told them I made it to field CSI." He spoke softly, letting his one good eye close. "When I was in high school, I never played any sports. No football, no basketball. Definitely no hockey."

"I never would've guessed." His supervisor smirked.

"Well, it wasn't by choice." He assured him. "My parents had me young. They had been dating since they were fourteen. I came along when they were eighteen. My Mom always wanted four kids. It was all she ever talked about. She had miscarriages, still births, expensive procedures… but she only had one." Breathing in a deep breath through his clenched teeth, Greg revealed, "She's always been overprotective of me. She always made sure I stayed close. If I got a nosebleed, she'd take me to the ER. I never broke a bone or had anything life threatening, but she worried that she might lose me too."

"Well, now would be the time to come clean."

"My Mom's gonna freak." Greg felt a tear rolling down his cheek.

"You tell her that you risked your life to save someone else's and I think she'll be very proud of you." Grissom assured him, looking round as the door opened beside him. "Nick?" He gave the man a curious look. He looked as though he was on the verge of tears. "What are you doing here?"

"I uh… I wanted to see, Greg."

"Gil," Sara ushered the man out into the hallway, giving Nick a reassuring smile. "Give them a minute."

Stuffing his shaky hands into his pockets, Nick watched them leaving the room, not entirely sure how he felt about everyone knowing about them. He let the door close behind them, adjusting the blinds to Greg's room to give them some privacy, before he approached his side. He bit his trembling bottom lip to keep back his tears, feeling his heart aching at the sight of his beautiful bruised face.

"C'mere," Greg reached out his good arm to the man, bracing himself for the man to hug him. He was as gentle as possible, but the pressure against his chest still hurt like a ton of bricks falling on him. "Ow," He flinched, holding him closer. "No… don't let go yet."

"If I'm hurtin' you…"

"You're not the one hurting me, Nicky." He breathed in his familiar scent. "Mm, you smell so good. I guess you'll have to find a new model now."

"What?" Nick frowned at him as he pulled back.

"Look at me, Nick. You can't walk down the aisle next to this. It'll be like Frankenstein's bride." He cracked a smile, just able to see a slight grin bursting across Nick's lips. "There's that smile." He let his own smile fade, feeling an ache in his jaw. "Ow… that sucks."

"I guess it would be a dumb question to ask if you're okay."

"Yeah." Greg tried not to smile to avoid the pain. "Nicky, I need you to call my parents."

The colour drained from Nick's face. "You want me to break the news to your parents. I'm havin' a friggin' panic attack just thinkin' about it, G."

"I know. I'm sorry. But my Mom trusts you. She loves you. Please, Nicky." He uncomfortably adjusted himself against the bed. "If someone else calls her she'll freak out."

"I will. I'll call." He tried to find a patch of skin that wasn't bruised, pressing a kiss to top of the younger man's head instead. "Get some sleep, baby."

"Nick and Greg?" Grissom caught sight of them through a gap in the blinds.

"You didn't hear?" Sara pulled him away to give them some privacy. "It's all the lab is gossiping about at the moment. Don't make a big thing of it."

"That's breaking lab rules."

"You're one to talk." She gave her significant other a smile. "You're still my supervisor. Their relationship is hardly going to mess up the politics of the lab."

"I'm pretty sure the ladies of the lab would disagree with you on that one." Grissom turned as the door to Greg's room opened, spotting Nick rather awkwardly making his way out into the hall. "We need you back at the lab if you're all done here." He figured acting natural was the best course of action. "Catherine's got a lead on one of our suspects."

"Great, thanks." Nick brushed past them, making his way towards the stairs.

"Nick." Sara called after him, joining him in the stairwell. "Are you okay?" She put her hand on his shoulder. "I am here if you need to talk. Maybe you should take the rest of the shift off?"

"I can't." He shook his head. "Not while he's in here. I have to find them." Nick pulled away from her, racing down the stairs. He sniffled back his tears, holding them at bay until he caught the people responsible for hurting the man he adored.

"Floyd?" Grissom spotted their new lab tech making his way towards them. Sara turned to watch the man, seeing the tears in his eyes. He was clutching a brown paper bag tightly in his arms, filled to the brim with grapes. "What are you doing here?"

"I uh… I came to see, Mr Sanders… I mean, Greg." He corrected himself. "Is he…?"

"He's resting." Sara answered, seeing a look of relief washing over him.

"We need you back at the lab, Floyd." Grissom insisted. "You can't skip out in the middle of an important case."

"I had a break. Wendy said she'd cover for me." Floyd shoved the bag in their direction. "Can you make sure he gets these? And let him know that I stopped by." He tried to look over their shoulders, trying to catch a glimpse of the object of his affection, but he couldn't see anything through the closed blinds. "I uh… I should go."

Sara watched the younger man walking away with a smile. She picked off one of the grapes from the cluster in her partner's hands, seeing the confusion in his eyes. "What's wrong?" She popped the grape into her mouth.

"Greg," Putting his back to the wall, the man sighed with confusion. "I never thought he was this popular. He always used to joke about getting dates and participating in threesomes or something. I never thought he was serious. I just thought he was a nerdy virgin who only wished he got as many dates as he bragged about."

Sara giggled softly. "Don't tell me you're jealous."

"Of Greg," He turned up his nose. "Not in the slightest. At least now he has the attention of two men, he might stop pining after my girlfriend." Grissom made room for Sara to lean against the same wall, letting her grab another grape from the bag in his hands.

After making sure the coast was clear, Grissom rested their heads together, relieved she decided to stick around. He didn't know what he would do without her on a day like today.

"Hands up. C'mon," Sofia ordered the last suspect as he clambered out of his car. "You're going to jail."

"Free shower, free food, free sleep." The teen in the pig mask grunted at Detective Curtis.

Nick pushed his way through the officers, tucking his gun away. "Let me in there." He knocked the pig mask off the kids head, seeing the face of the punk he punched in the stomach at his earlier crime scene. "Looks like someone's gonna get a beat down after all." He wanted to punch him again so badly, but he let the officers take him away.

He snorted like a pig all the way to the back of Brass' car, giving Nick a smug smile.

"He'll get what's coming to him." Warrick joined his side, relieved to see a more calm and collected Nick. "C'mon, let's grab some food and head up the hospital to see, Greg. He's probably sick of hospital food by now."

"Not yet." Nick pulled his cell from his pocket. "I have to call his Mom."

"Hey, ya'ight, man?" Warrick clapped him over the shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah." He gave him a smile. "Thanks."

Leaving the flashing lights and protesting punks behind him, Nick hit his speed dial for 'Mrs S', feeling his tears starting to flow already. "Hello, love. Please don't tell me that my son put you up to calling me to cancel on Christmas." The woman giggled into her phone, pausing as she didn't hear a voice. "Nick, did you butt dial me?"

Nick cracked a grin, wiping away his tears with his free hand. "No Mrs S, I called you… uh… you might want to sit down for this."

"Uh oh, this sounds serious." Mrs Sanders left her kitchen behind her, sitting herself down on the staircase. "Alright, I'm parked. Please don't tell me you're breaking up with my son. Whatever he's done, I'm sure you can work through it. I'll clip that little snot round the ear if he's done something to make you…"

"I love your son." He assured her, breathing in a deep breath to build up his courage. "Mrs S, Greg… Greg risked his life today to save someone's life. There was this group of kids beatin' up tourists in the city," Nick sat himself on the hood of a police car to explain the whole story to her. He made her proud of her son for his bravery, before he let her know the extent of his injuries.

"Oh that stupid… big hero," The woman cried into her phone. "Why didn't he tell me he became a field CSI? Am I really that horrible to talk to?"

"I think he was worried that you would worry. He wanted to protect you, Mrs S."

"Flaming hell, that boy. I could ring his neck."

Nick chuckled softly, wiping away his own tears. "I'm goin' up the hospital to see him now. I'll send him your love."

"Okay, love. Listen as soon as his father's back from work, we'll be driving up your way. Greg's a difficult patient with a case of the sniffles. He'll be a nightmare with all this."

"Thank you, Mrs S." He gave out a soft sigh of relief as he hung up, giving Warrick a nod to assure him that he was okay. He climbed into the passenger seat of the Denali Warrick was driving, eager to get back to the hospital to see his boyfriend. He wasn't even worried about who knew anymore. He just wanted the man he loved back in his arms.

Thanks so much for reading! Hope you enjoyed reading it. (As much as one can enjoy one of their favourite characters being beaten to a pulp anyway). This is of course based on the episode 'Fannysmackin' from Season 7 Episode 4. One of my all time favourite episodes.

Please let me know what you thought.

~ Holly