A/N – First, I'd like to thank everyone for their kind reviews. You guys are the best!

Special thanks to: BandGeekDrummer, debs84, luv0817, terranboy, and tp96, who added me to their alerts.

And a SUPER special thanks to Myheartbelongs2u, who favorited the story! You guys are awesome!

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Chapter 4 – Haunt Me

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Nick's words echoed in his mind. We need to talk. Turning around slowly, Greg carried the pasta to the table, careful not to meet his boyfriend's gaze. "I mean it, Greg," Nick said firmly, as Greg went back for the sauce. "We can't avoid this forever."

Greg laughed nervously, setting the pan down on the hot plate. "We can try can't we?"

Nick frowned. "I'm serious, Greg. This is important."

"I know," he admitted sheepishly. "I just... I'm a wimp, okay?" Greg cleared his throat, either from nervousness or his illness—he wasn't sure which.

"Greg," Nick murmured, his face softening. He closed the gap between him and his boyfriend, reaching out and grabbing the other man's upper arms gently. "We're two reasonable adults. We can talk and work this out, okay?"

Greg nodded, his apprehension tangible. "Mhmm," he mumbled, looking down at his feet, afraid to meet Nick's eyes.

"Greg..." Nick urged, tightening his grip on the younger man's arms a bit. "Please talk to me?"

Greg swallowed hard. "Okay..."

Nick led him to the table, sitting him down and moving to the other side of the table to sit across from him. A siren echoed outside, down the street and an uncomfortable silence settled between them.

Realizing if he wanted this conversation to go anywhere, it was all up to him, Nick groaned. Greg could be so difficult sometimes. "Look, Greg..." he started, taking a deep breath.

The younger man raised his gaze and met Nick's deep brown eyes. "I'm sorry for leaving last night... I shouldn't have just run away..."

Nick felt his resolve completely trickle away. "Greggo..."

Greg exhaled slowly, looking down at his lap. "Let me finish please... It's just... I've never done... this..." He motioned between the two of them. "I've never gotten to a place in my life where running away wasn't an option.

"I've never had anything more than casual dates, or meaningless sex... I'm 27 years old, and I honestly have never wanted more than that..." He paused, looking up at Nick. "But you're so much more than that, Nicky... I've been hiding from this because it scares me out of my fucking mind.

"But last night, when I left... I was terrified you weren't going to let me back... And as much as I'm scared of this... of us... I'm so much more afraid of losing this... losing you..."

Greg cleared his throat and Nick looked at him, not even sure what to say. "Greg, I..."

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admitted. "And I'm gonna screw up... a lot... But I want this to work."

"Me too," the older man choked out. "But... I... What about Becka?"

Greg shook his head and stood up, moving around the table. He knelt next to his boyfriend, taking his hands in his own. "Nick," he breathed. "I want you..." Greg tilted his head up, his lips dangerously close to the other man's. Nick could feel his boyfriend's warm breath tickling his mouth and he leaned in, his lips brushing against Greg's.

Nick's cell phone buzzed in his back pocket and he jerked back from Greg suddenly, a sad look on his face. Greg cocked his head to the side, watching as Nick pulled out his phone and flipped it open. "Stokes."

"Nick? It's Grissom..." His supervisor's voice drifted through the phone.

"Hey, Gris, what's up?" he answered, resting back on his chair.

Grissom was silent for a moment before speaking. "Look, I know you probably just got home a little bit ago, but... we've got something here, and I kind of need you..."

Nick sighed. "Can it wait like... an hour? I was just about to have some dinner..."

"This is important," Gil's voice was grim, and Nick tensed up. "We need you to come in... We've got a message for you... from our serial..."

Nick's heart stopped. "Where are you?"

Grissom didn't even skip a beat. "Right downstairs. In your parking lot..."

Nick didn't even have time to process the thought. All he knew was he had to get downstairs as soon as possible. "I'll be right down," he replied, flipping his phone shut. He turned to Greg. "I need to go... I'll be back as soon as I can..."

"Is it something bad?" Greg asked, nervously.

"I don't know," Nick admitted, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair and pulling it on.

"I'm coming with you," the younger man muttered, putting on his coat and following Nick out their front door.

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Nick and Greg stepped out the front door of their house, heading over to the parking lot across the street where everyone on the block parked their cars. It was marked off with Crime Scene tape, and he saw Grissom almost instantly. The two men jogged over, joining their supervisor. "Hey, Gris, what's up?" Nick asked anxiously.

"I think you need to see this," he replied solemnly, turning and walking over to the back of Nick's truck, parked a little ways down. Grissom shined his flashlight past the vehicle, revealing a young blonde woman lying in a pool of her own blood, her entire abdomen slashed open.

He walked around to the front of the vehicle, moving his flashlight beam to the hood. Greg gasped, his hand reaching for Nick's instantly. The older man squeezed it reassuringly, swallowing hard.

Blood was smeared across the black metal, the words of the message taunting Nick.

I'm coming for you next, faggot.

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