A/N: Chapter five! New angst begins here! Usual disclaimer. Please review!

Chapter 5

"And the one poor child who saved this world
And there's ten million more who probably could
If we all just stopped and said a prayer for them"

Ryan sat at the kitchen table, cup of coffee in hand and brow wrinkled with worry. He wasn't worried about any particular thing; in fact, life was going pretty well at the moment. He and Greg had adjusted to their new living condition as though nothing had ever happened causing Greg to leave in the first place. They were experiencing their love again in a way that Ryan hadn't felt since they had met in Chicago.

Granted, they still weren't having sex yet. But this was no longer a cause of concern for Ryan. He knew that when it happened, it would happen. And he had a feeling that it would be soon. For now, they were working on getting everything else back on track before they threw sex in on top of it.

No, what was bothering Ryan was a different feeling, a sort of nagging concern that was stuck in the back of his mind but was steadily working forward, no matter how he tried to fight it. It was the unfortunate feeling that despite how wonderful everything in his life currently was, something was going to go wrong. It was that sort of impeding doom feeling that always seemed to accompany happiness.

Unfortunately for Ryan, this nagging worry tended to come true. He seemed to have a knack for recognizing when bad things were going to happen, and this was one of those times.

A gentle hand on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie, and he looked up to see Greg standing there, still in his boxers, looking adorably rumpled. "Everything alright?" Greg asked, concern evident in his voice.

"Of course," Ryan said lightly, smiling for effect. "I have you, so everything is perfect."

Greg just raised an eyebrow as he reached for the coffee pot to pour himself a cup. He took three sips and paused, closing his eyes and enjoying the flavor. When he opened his eyes, they immediately hardened with suspicion. "I don't believe you," he said calmly. "Something is bothering you, and I want to know what it is."

Ryan's face immediately lost its fake cheerfulness. There was no use putting on a show if the audience didn't believe it. "How could you tell?" he asked sourly, his expression turning to a mix of relief and frustration.

Simply smiling, Greg leaned in and kissed Ryan in between his eyebrows. "Because you get a wrinkle right there," he whispered. "I can always tell when you're worried or upset because of that one little wrinkle."

Though Ryan was deeply touched by Greg's words, his expression turned truly worried for a second. "I have a wrinkle?" he asked, running a hand over his forehead. "God, I'm getting old."

Greg just laughed. "I'm older than you," he reminded Ryan, "and I'm not even remotely concerned about wrinkles. Besides, you're not distracting me that easily. You're worried, and I want to know why."

Ryan sighed and looked down. "It's stupid," he said slowly. "I just…I have a feeling like something bad is going to happen. You know, like everything is going too perfectly right now, and something is going to come in and ruin that."

Greg's smile was a little too understanding. "I know exactly what you mean," he agreed. "It's like, if nothing had gone wrong for so long, than something has to happen, right?" Then his smile tightened, and it was his turn to look worried, though his concern was purely for Ryan. "But hey," he said softly, leaning in to stroke Ryan's face, "you know that nothing is going to happen, right? I'm here now, and nothing is going to stop us from being together."

"I know that," Ryan said softly, but his eyes remained downcast. "But still, I just have this feeling…"

Greg took Ryan's hands in his. "Look, paranoia isn't a feeling you can trust," he said quietly, looking into Ryan's eyes. "What you can trust is what you feel between us, and that feeling is the only thing that should matter."

Ryan opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it. "Of course," he said, pleasantly. "I'm being foolish, and I know it." He paused, looking at the time. "And we are going to be late if we don't hurry. You still need to shower."

Rolling his eyes, Greg leaned over and kissed Ryan's forehead. "Yes, Mother," he muttered to himself. Then he looked critically at Ryan. "And you're sure you're ok?"

Ryan plastered a smile on his face, though his mind was far from clear. "Of course," he repeated, though he didn't believe it for a second. He knew in his heart that something was going to happen. Something bad. And soon.

xXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Ryan pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. He had been working all day trying to crack the code that a suspect had encrypted his files with. It wasn't particularly complicated, but it was intensely frustrating. What was more frustrating was the fact that Greg was once again out in the field while Ryan had to stay back at the lab.

This wouldn't normally irritate Ryan; after all, Greg often had to stay in the lab to deal with overflow in the DNA lab. But today of all days, when that impending feeling of doom was still making the hair on the back of Ryan's neck stand up, Ryan just wished that he and Greg could be in the same spot so that he could keep an eye on him. Which was stupid, really, because Ryan didn't even know what this bad thing was, or whom it was going to affect.

Sighing again, Ryan slumped forward, resting his head against the cool metal of the desk he was sitting at. He couldn't focus, and if he couldn't focus, he would never be able to crack this. Sitting up, Ryan checked his watch. It was exactly four minutes after the last time he had checked his watch, which was approximately still eons away from the end of work.

Luckily, his phone rang, providing something to occupy his thoughts for a few minutes at the very least. He whipped it open and held it up to his ear, trying not to sound too bored. "Wolfe."

"Ryan." It was Calleigh, but she didn't sound happy or excited or good in general. In fact, she sounded as if she had been crying. "Ryan, there's been an accident. At the scene where Greg was working."

Ryan's heart stopped. "Wha…what?" he stammered, his mind racing with a million different thoughts as he tried to form all his questions into words. "What happened? Where is he? Is he ok?" Please let him be ok, he added mentally as he waited for her response.

"The suspect returned to the scene," Calleigh said, her voice immediately switching to the efficient tone of someone making a report. "He was armed. He had left evidence behind, and he wanted it back. The scene was, as you know, in the middle of a park, so that's how he got there without us noticing. There were too many people hanging around…Anyway, he opened fire. Greg got hit. I don't know where he got shot, and I don't know how badly. A little boy at the scene also got shot. He's in critical condition. They're both at the University of Miami Hospital. That's all I know."

She sounded tired and defeated, so Ryan bit back his temper, which wanted to demand where she had been when all this was going on, and why there hadn't been an officer there to stop it from happening. He said neither of these things because he knew he wouldn't help the situation any. Instead, he took a deep breath and said calmly, "I'm going to hospital."

"I figured as much," Calleigh said, still sounding strained. "Horatio said he'd meet you there. And Ryan—" She broke off, and this time, the strain in her voice was clearly caused by guilt. "Ryan, I'm so sorry. I should've been there—"

He cut her off. "Stop, Calleigh. It wasn't your fault. Nothing you could've done would've stopped this. Now, I have to go."

"Of course," Calleigh said quickly. "Tell Greg I'm sorry."

Ryan just closed his eyes, praying that he would get a chance to tell Greg anything at all. "I will," he whispered, more of a promise to himself than to her. "I will."

xXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Ryan got to the hospital in record time. He practically ran into the emergency room, stopping only when he saw Horatio waiting for him. "H," he said, panting for breath. "Is he ok?"

Horatio smiled at Ryan. "He's going to be fine," he said, the relief evident in his voice. "He only got grazed by the bullet. The doctor said he's probably going to be in a lot of pain, though; the bullet hit him in the shoulder, and while it was only a graze, it was a pretty deep graze."

"I'm sure it doesn't help that he can't have pain killers," Ryan said dryly, then stopped, looking at Horatio. "He hasn't had any painkillers, has he?" he asked, his heart full of a whole new type of worry.

Still smiling, Horatio shook his head. "He hasn't had any type of painkillers. Calleigh told the paramedics that he wasn't allowed to have any, and thus far, the doctors have been very good about it."

Now it was Ryan's turn to smile, and he looked eagerly over Horatio's shoulder towards the rooms. "So can I go see him?" he asked.

Horatio's smile faded. "Yes, you can see him. He's in room 152," he said, but his tone changed. "But he's not conscious. The doctor thinks he went into shock and passed out. I don't know if he's awake yet. And…" Horatio hesitated, his blue eyes saddened. "The boy that was shot at the crime scene…he died. Just a few minutes ago."

Ryan's smile also slid off his face, and he shook his head sadly. "That's horrible," he whispered. Then he looked up at Horatio. "I'll have to tell Greg," he said quietly. "He'd want to know."

Horatio nodded, twisting his sunglasses in his hands. Ryan nodded also before turning to head to Greg's room. Horatio called after him, asking, "Ryan—what are you going to say to him?"

Ryan raised an eyebrow. "For starters, I'm going to yell at him for scaring me to death. And after that, I'm going to tell him how much I love him. It's the least I can tell him after everything he went through today and with the news that I still have to break to him."