A/N: Chapter six! Usual disclaimer applies. Please read and review!

Chapter 6

"So take these words and sing out loud
Cuz everyone is forgiven now
Cuz tonight's the night the world begins again"

Ryan hesitated outside of Greg's hospital room, trying to control his wildly pounding heart. He could hardly contain his urge to hurl himself into Greg's arms and sob into his chest. This desire was tempered by the inclination to throttle Greg for making him so afraid.

He had come so close to losing Greg. So close to losing him forever, even closer to losing him than when Greg had walked out, or when Greg had been almost absorbed by drugs. No, this time had been closer, and more real than Greg would ever know. Ryan's nagging feeling had come true, and while he was elated that Greg was going to be alright, he still wanted to yell and scream and tell Greg never to scare him like that again.

It was a stupid. They were both cops. They both worked in active crime scenes day after day, where what happened to Greg had and could happen to anyone else. Still, Ryan was almost tempted to lock Greg in the house and make him stay in there just so he could never get hurt again.

On that note, Ryan took a deep breath, prayed that he looked at least half-composed, and pushed the door to Greg's room open. His breath caught in his throat as he saw Greg lying back against his pillow, his eyes closed and his face pale. Trying to keep from crying out, Ryan inched into the room. As he came closer, Greg blinked once, twice and then turned to face Ryan, his face breaking out into a grin. "Ryan," he breathed, reaching one hand out towards him. "Ryan, sweetheart."

Ryan's heart soared out of his chest as he looked into Greg's smiling face. Then his own face hardened into a deep scowl. "You said that nothing is going to stop us from being together," he said accusingly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Well, you being dead would stop us from being together."

Greg's grin faded slightly, and he winced in pain as he sat up. "Ryan, I'm sorry," he said softly, still reaching out for him. "You know that this could've happened to either of us. It's a hazard of the job."

Ryan's scowl did not soften completely, but he stepped forward to take Greg's hand, entwining their fingers. "I told you I had a bad feeling," he murmured, but he could feel his protests rapidly fading away as Greg pulled him closed and pressed his lips to Ryan's forehead. Ryan kissed him back, hungrily and deeply, feeling the need to remind himself that Greg was still there, still alive. He wound his fingers into Greg's hair, practically in Greg's bed.

With a gentle laugh, Greg pushed Ryan back ever so slightly, practically panting with exertion. He then scooted over, leaving a space for Ryan to actually get into the bed with him. Ryan obliged, lying down next to him and putting his arms around him, nestling his face into the crook of Greg's neck, making sure that he wasn't leaning against Greg's injured shoulder. Greg chuckled softly, shifting slightly so as to be able to stroke Ryan's hair. "I'm sorry I scared you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of Ryan's head. "I love you more than anything, and I know that my life would be over if I ever lost you, so I can only imagine what I put you through."

"S'not your fault," Ryan mumbled, not even bothering to lift his head or relinquish his grip. "It could've happened to anyone."

Greg's smile faltered slightly. "But it didn't," he said, more to himself than to Ryan. "It didn't happen to Calleigh, or Eric." Ryan tried to interrupt, to tell Greg that it had happened to Eric, that it had happened to Horatio, that even he had been shot in the eye with a nail gun, but Greg did not let him speak. "It always seems to happen to me, doesn't it? To you and I, I mean. There's always something in the way, something that tries to stop you and I from being together, from being happy."

Ryan sat up and put his hands on either side of Greg's face, gripping with a strength that he hoped would force Greg to see reason. "Listen to me, Gregory Hojem Sanders," he said softly, but with a strength in his voice. "There is nothing standing in the way of our happiness. Not now, not ever. The only thing standing in the way of our happiness is ourselves. If we go through life thinking that we have to watch our backs because something is going to stop us from being happy, then we will never allow ourselves to be happy." He paused, only for a moment to draw breath. "I love you with every fiber of my being, and I'll be damned if I don't enjoy loving you here and now. I almost lost you today." Ryan's voice shook, but he carried on. "I almost lost you more definitively than ever before, and that made me see more clearly than ever in my life that I want this. I want to be here with you, making every moment that we have together count more fully than the last. I don't care if it's for the next fifty years or only the next five minutes, but I want to spend the rest of our time together not thinking about what pitfall is going to be in our way next, or what obstacle we will have to face in the future. I want to be here with you, just like this, living our lives with no regrets, no fear, just love."

Now smiling again, Greg leaned forward to rest his forehead against Ryan's. "I could not agree with you more. I want to spend every waking moment with you, and if that is not possible, I want to spend my time away from you dreaming about the next time I will be with you." He paused, then smiled nervously. "That sounded really stupid, didn't it?"

"Of course not," Ryan whispered, kissing him gently on the lips. "It sounded perfect, and it sounded like it came from your heart, and that's all that matters." Greg grinned and leaned forward to kiss him as well. They deepened the kiss, enjoying this perfect moment together.

They were interrupted by the sound of a throat being cleared, and both turned to see Horatio standing in the doorway, looking bemused. "Hey H," Greg said easily, pressing his cheek against Ryan's. "What's up?"

Horatio twisted his sunglasses in his hands. "I spoke to your doctor, and she said that you are ready to be discharged."

"Excellent," Greg said, grinning widely. "It will be good to get out of here. I hope you don't mind, H—Ryan and I are taking the rest of the day off."

Ryan looked shocked at Greg's audacity, but Horatio showed no surprise other than a small smile. "I assumed as much, Mr. Sanders. You both need time to recover from your injury, and you can have all the time you need."

Grinning, Greg leaned forward. "So, does this mean Ryan and I can take the rest of the week off?"

Horatio smirked at him. "Unfortunately, no. I expect Mr. Wolfe to be at work tomorrow morning, and I expect you, Mr. Sanders, to be in either tomorrow or the next day. We still have plenty of work for you to do that doesn't require field work."

Greg looked so crestfallen that Ryan pecked him on the cheek to cheer him up. Sighing heavily, Greg agreed. "Alright, alright." He sat up all the way, keeping one arm wrapped around Ryan. "By the way, when is the little boy who was brought in with me going to be discharged?"

There was silence as Horatio threw Ryan a startled look. "Did you not tell him?" he asked, and Ryan shook his head, chagrined.

"I forgot," he whispered, feeling terrible. "I meant to…and then I got distracted…"

Sensing his stress, Greg stroked his back soothingly. "What's wrong?" he asked, more to Horatio than to Ryan. "What's going on?"

Horatio sighed deeply, twisting his sunglasses more than ever. "I didn't mean for you to find out this way," he said softly. "I didn't mean for this to ever happen, of course." He looked up to meet Greg's eyes. "The little boy died. They couldn't stop the bleeding. I'm so sorry."

Ryan felt Greg's hand clench against his back, felt the barely restrained wave of emotions that permeated from every ounce of his being, and he wished that there was something he could do to help Greg. There wasn't anything, of course, except simply to be there if Greg needed him. "It's my fault," Greg stated simply, his voice barely above a whisper. "That bullet was meant for me."

"Greg, you can't"— Ryan's voice cracked—"can't blame yourself for what happened. The gunman was crazy, and he was going to take down anyone or anything in his path to get to that crime scene. It's not your fault. It's not the fault of any of the cops on the scene. It's the gunman's fault, plain and simple."

Though Greg didn't say anything, Ryan knew that he hadn't changed Greg's mind at all. He could tell by the way Greg's eyes were downcast, and his body was quivering with unspoken tension. And though Ryan's heart broke for Greg, he couldn't stop the part of him that was overjoyed that Greg was alive and was there with him.

After a long moment, Greg forced a smile onto his face, and he stood carefully, making sure not jostle his shoulder. "Well, I guess there's no point hanging around the hospital anymore," he said, falsely cheerful. He turned to Ryan, pulling Ryan to him with his good arm. "What do you say you and I head home, Mr. Wolfe?"

Ryan knew Greg was not ok, that he was only putting on a brave face for his sake, but he remained silent, only pausing to shoot a look at Horatio before following Greg out the door. The ride home was also spent in silence, though Greg cranked the radio to an earsplitting level and seemed completely oblivious to the songs that were playing. Ryan sat uncomfortably, wanting to talk to Greg but knowing that Greg wanted to do anything but talk right now, so he poured his entire concentration into driving.

When they finally arrived home, Ryan parked the car and followed Greg into their apartment, both maintaining their silence. Finally, Ryan couldn't stand it anymore, and he reached forward to touch Greg on the shoulder. "Greg," he started, but Greg cut him off in a rather effective manner, turning around and capturing his lips in one smooth move.

Ryan kissed him back, hesitantly, his body responding to Greg's advances even as his mind protested. After a moment, his mind won out, and he pulled away. "Greg," he whispered, his eyes sympathetic. "Greg, we shouldn't—"

"Every moment," Greg whispered, cupping Ryan's cheek and stroking it ever so gently with his thumb. "We promised that we would enjoy every moment that we have together. That's all I want, to enjoy right now with you."

Ryan closed his eyes briefly. "I want that too," he answered, his voice quiet. "But not today, not after what has happened. Not like this."

"Please," Greg whispered, his chocolate eyes smoldering with heat and barely concealed pain. "Please, Ryan. I need this right now."

And though Ryan knew he shouldn't, knew that this should not be the way their first time in so long happened, he allowed himself to be pulled into the bedroom, especially since he also knew that he wanted this just as much as Greg. They both needed this moment, to prove that they were still alive together, to prove that their love had not died with that little boy that took the bullet for Greg. It was an old habit, turning to sex when times got rough, but for once, as Greg and Ryan lay down on the bed together, lips and hands busy, it felt right.