Author's Note: Be prepared to be mad at me...

Chapter Eight: Until Death

He slept for days. And when he wasn't sleeping, he didn't have the strength to get out of bed. He couldn't stomach his crimes against Neil. When he slept, he dreamed only of him, and when he awoke, he couldn't stop picturing him, weary and broken, wasting away alone in that hospital room.

Sometimes, he would walk around the desert. He imagined it as his sort of spirit quest. The sun was high and hot, even though the city was cold and dark in late January. He kicked at the dust at his feet and watched it swirl. He would walk for hours, away from the motel and the outskirts of the city, but he never felt lost. Once, he'd found an outcropping from which he could see the horizon for so far in either direction he swore he detected the curve in the earth's surface. He had sat down there and watched the sun plummet from the sky, slowly but ever so inevitably, until it was buried under the ground.

And then, he was back in the motel, asleep, tossing and turning without any answers.

His eyes snapped open. He didn't know what day it was, and seconds before he hadn't been ready. But this was instantaneous, as epiphanies often are, and he was finally prepared to be there by Neil's side, to live for Neil, do everything for Neil, because he knew that's what needed to be done. Greg couldn't focus on himself, not anymore. Thoughts of living without Neil had plagued him for so long, and now where was he? Without Neil. He had fulfilled his own nightmare.

He threw the covers off of the motel bed and leapt out, hastily pulling on his jeans and didn't even bother to find a clean shirt as he stuffed everything in his suitcase and packed, barely remembering the keys to the room as he left.

He checked out as quickly as possible and threw his bag into the trunk, driving back into the city. Unlike before, now he was purposeful and driven. He wasn't going to run anymore. He knew exactly where he was needed, and that was where he was going.

Now that he had a destination, he realized how far from his home he had actually roamed. The minutes bled into hours, and all of Greg's focus was on the road, intent on getting to that hospital as safely and as quickly as physically possible. Years of joyriding in his father's car had taught him how to drive fast enough to get a thrill, but still remain in control so his parents wouldn't kill him in the morning for totaling their car (or possibly himself).

After what seemed like far too long, Greg found himself at the hospital when the sun was at its highest, and bolted for the elevator up from the parking garage. He waited, impatiently tapping his hand against his thigh and grinding his teeth when the elevator opened on his floor.

He stepped out onto the familiar floor and grinned madly at the lovely receptionist, Nora, though she was busy sorting out charts, it seemed. But just after he turned down the hall that led to Neil's room, an ill wind seemed to rush past him, solidifying the blood in his veins. He shook off the chill, dismissing it as an adrenaline rush and began to power walk down the hall. He would have run, but Nora had already yelled at him once for that.

And then, the door came into view, and Greg's smile grew. He picked up the pace, unable to contain his glee, because he would be able to see Neil again, be able to say everything he had been too scared to confess before, and Neil wouldn't have to be alone anymore, and they could both be scared together—

Greg's thoughts disappeared from his mind, and he forgot momentarily what he had been thinking at all. He had opened the door loudly in his excitement to see Neil again, only to find that he wasn't there. The bed was neatly made, and all of Neil's things were gone, including his cell phone.

At first, Greg simply didn't understand. They must have moved Neil to another room. It was possible, but why was it necessary? And then, Greg thought, Neil must have checked out. Decided to go home, sleep in their bed, and fade away in familiar surroundings. Greg nodded to himself. Yes, that must be it. Neil had to be home.

He whirled around and ran headfirst into someone, causing him to stumble backwards and try to regain his balance. "Sorry…" he began, then looked at the person he'd run into and the words caught in his throat.

Nick Stokes was staring at him with a strange expression, as if he didn't believe Greg was really there. "Greg?"

"Nick?"

They both looked at each other, each wondering what the other was doing there, but both too afraid to speak up first. Nick shook his head slowly, his brow furrowing and his eyes narrowing in confusion as he tried to figure it all out.

"Where have you been?"

Greg's chest was rising and falling noticeably. He had used up too much energy in his rush to see Neil, and now the adrenaline was subsiding. "I had to… think some things through. What are you doing here?"

Nick's face fell and his brown eyes glistened in the pale florescent light of the hospital hallway. "Are you looking for Neil?" he asked in a whisper, as if it were a secret.

Slowly, Greg nodded. "Yeah… You don't… I mean, you wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?" He gestured back at the room. "I saw… the bed, and his things are gone, and I think maybe he might have gone back to my apartment, because I promised him that I would—"

"Greg…" Nick interrupted, suddenly. He pursed his lips and took a deep breath through his nose. He held it a moment before exhaling and shaking his head. "Greg, while you were gone, Neil's health deteriorated. He couldn't hang on—"

"No," Greg interjected, shaking his head. He smiled, almost hysterically. "No, how would you know anyway? You don't know him. You met him once, and I'll be surprised if you remember that—"

"Las Vegas Sun, two years ago, almost three now, Erika Swanson case," Nick rattled off. "He flirted with you. And you hung behind to flirt back."

"OK, so… What does that prove?" said Greg with a shrug. "Can I see him now? Where is he? Where's Neil?"

"Greg, if you wanted to see him—"

"Where is he?!" Greg yelled, seizing Nick by the shoulders as his voice echoed off the walls in the hospital corridor.

Nick stared at Greg with wide eyes, obviously not knowing how to say what he needed to say. "Neil had a heart attack at eight o'clock this morning. He couldn't take it in his condition. He died about an hour ago."

Greg's breathing was audible now as his mouth hung open. The breaths were faster and deeper as he stared right back at Nick, as if waiting for the punch line of a cruel joke that would never come. And then, his eyes fell away, to the floor, frantically darting around, searching for something, anything to hang onto.

He pushed Nick away from him violently, opening up his hands as if he were disgusted by the Texan. Slowly, he brought those hands to cover his mouth and nose, slamming his jaw shut as he breathed deeply through his nostrils. One of his arms moved down and wrapped around his stomach as he felt the nausea rise up in him, grief so real it was physical, and it was a kind of pain he had never felt before. Not even after Warrick died.

He stumbled backwards into the wall by the door to Neil's old hospital room as Nick continued to watch him from a small distance away. Slowly, Greg slid down that wall until his knees were up against his chest and he was staring at Nick's shins. The pair of legs before him took a few cautious steps forward before they bent at the knee and Nick was kneeling in front of him.

"Greg?"

The voice was kind and quiet, laced with an empathy Greg couldn't fathom in his state of mind. Greg's hand still covered his mouth, keeping everything he was feeling at bay, and he was afraid if he removed it, it would all fall apart. He looked at Nick, deep into his sweet sienna eyes and tried to swim so far into them that he would lose his way and drown.

"Let me drive you home," Nick offered, straightening and offering his hand to Greg.

Greg's eyes moved to follow Nick's face and slowly, he nodded, knowing that he couldn't stay there. He extended a shaky hand and Nick seized his wrist in a firm grip and pulled Greg back up to his feet. The younger man staggered as he regained his balance, and found his hands pressed against Nick's chest. He blinked, then his eyes flickered up to meet Nick's, whose hands were on Greg's shoulders to keep him steady.

"I packed away all of Neil's things," Nick said quietly. "They're in my car. I'll take you home and—"

"Can't go home," Greg uttered.

Nick paused, then slowly nodded. "Where do you want to go?"

Greg's eyes slowly unfocussed as he tried to think of an answer, but he just shook his head, in a daze. He shrugged, then looked to Nick for guidance.

The Texan nodded. "I know where we can go," he assured Greg, in answer to the unasked question.

Greg trusted Nick with everything he had, so he nodded, then took a step backwards and let his arms fall against his sides. His knees almost buckled under his weight, but somehow he managed to remain standing. He turned, facing the end of the long, foreboding corridor and he felt himself shiver.

And then, he felt strong, solid fingers enclose around his upper arm, and he drew all his strength from it. Nick became his crutch, and Greg leaned on him to keep from falling as they made their way down the hospital corridor.

Greg lost time for a moment, because the next thing he knew he was sitting in the passenger's seat of Nick's car, staring out the window at the bright sunny day. He felt as if the sun were laughing in his face, and prayed for rain. But the rain never came.

In the blink of an eye, Nick was opening the door to his house and Greg was leaning against the wall, watching him in silence before following him inside. The Texan turned and looked at him, awkwardly, suddenly unsure of what to do.

"Would you like me to get you a drink, or…"

"Can I sleep here?" Greg asked.

"Of course," Nick assured him. "I mean, I wasn't really… expecting you, so I don't have anything made up, but—"

"I'll just take the couch," Greg said, gesturing at it with a half shrug. He began to walk over there when Nick called after him.

"No. I have a guest bedroom. Let me just put some sheets on the bed and you can…" He trailed off as he noticed that his words had no effect on Greg, who had already sat down on the couch, and was now laying down on it and resting his head against the arm, staring that the silent television before closing his eyes.

He slept a long time.

Greg opened his eyes and found himself staring at the ceiling. For a moment, his mind was a blank slate. He thought he was in his motel room, miles away from central Las Vegas, and maybe today he could run back to Neil before he lost him forever. And then he remembered he'd already done that, and he'd been too late.

He found that he was resting on a comfortable mattress he could have sworn he hadn't fallen asleep on the day before. He closed his eyes and sighed, deducing that Nick must have moved him.

"Stubborn bastard…" Greg muttered. He would have been perfectly content with waking up on the couch with a crick in his neck. It was the least he deserved. And anyway, at least then, he might have remembered where he was after he'd woken up.

Greg sat up and looked at his watch, noting that it was an hour before his shift started and made the impromptu decision to go in and see his coworkers. After all, they may have missed him in the days he'd been gone. Or… it might have been weeks. Greg had lost track of time while he was away, but it couldn't have been very long. It was still January, after all. He hoped.

He rolled his shoulders and stretched his neck out, which was still a little sore even though he must not have spent long on the couch. He looked down and realized he was already dressed in the clothes he'd worn yesterday, so that was one less thing he needed to worry about.

He entered the kitchen and saw a pot of coffee was brewing. Nick was at the sink scrubbing at a dish when Greg arrived, and the Texan looked at him as if Greg might explode at any second. Nick carefully put the plate down and smiled at Greg.

"Hey. How are you doing?"

"Can't complain," Greg replied, making a beeline for the coffee. "Do you have a mug or something I can use?"

Nick nodded before opening a cupboard and fetching one for him.

Greg poured the steaming brown liquid into the mug, watching it intently. He set it down and opened the fridge, searching for milk.

"In the shelf on the door," Nick directed.

"Aha," Greg replied, seizing it and closing the door.

"I didn't think you'd be up right now," Nick told him, honestly.

"Well, have to get to work, don't I?" Greg asked, pouring the milk.

Nick paused, clearly searching for the words. "Greg, I don't think you should go into work today."

"Why not?" Greg asked casually as he closed up the milk carton.

"What do you mean 'why not'?" Nick asked cautiously as he watched Greg put the milk away.

Greg turned around, holding his mug and shrugged. "I haven't been in a while, and I'll bet the others have been wondering where I've been. Frankly, I'm a little surprised no one filed a missing persons report." He chuckled before shaking it off and taking a sip of his coffee.

"Actually… I told Catherine that you were having a family emergency," Nick said carefully, as if afraid Greg would disapprove.

Greg kept the coffee mug to his lips for a moment before lowering it. "Oh. Thank you."

"But it was irresponsible of you to run out without your phone and without letting anyone know where you went," Nick said, unable to keep back the snide tone.

Greg nodded mechanically. "Yeah, you're right, I'm sorry." He took another sip. "Promise that won't happen again." He tilted back his head and finished the mug. "You ready to go?"

Nick stumbled. "What? No, I thought we decided you were staying here."

"No, we didn't," Greg said. "And anyways, my car is at the hospital, so I thought maybe you could give me a ride. Then after work, I'll just catch a cab over there to pick up my car and go home."

"Go home?" Nick seemed startled by the suggestion. "Why would you go home now?"

Greg shrugged. "Why wouldn't I? It's where I lived, isn't it?"

"It's also where Neil lived," Nick reminded him, forgetting momentarily that this might be a soft spot.

Greg winced, but swiftly shrugged it off. "Well, then, all the more reason to go back, isn't it? Gotta face it sooner or later."

"Probably later rather than sooner… Greg, are you sure you're OK?"

"I'm fine, Nick," Greg assured him with a broad, reassuring grin. "Death happens every day in our job, doesn't it?"

"Not to the people we care about," Nick said. "Greg, I remember when Warrick died—"

"Don't," Greg cut him off, a little aggressively. He took a deep breath, then smiled. "Look, Warrick… was a while ago, and we've both dealt with that, and you've clearly moved on, so there's no point in bringing him up, is there? And as for N-Neil…" He stumbled on the word but plowed past it. "There are certain affairs that need to be put in order. Funeral arrangements. Estate sales. He had a house that he'd been renting out since he came over to my apartment. When the lease is up, I'll probably have to put it on the market. He gave me power of attorney, so I have to take care of all these things." He approached the sink and Nick stepped aside, allowing him to wash out his mug and put it neatly in the dishwasher.

Nick frowned. "Greg, it's OK to grieve a little."

"I grieved yesterday," said Greg with a straight face. "And now, I'm over it. Can we go to work now?"

He hoped that Nick would leave it there. He hoped that Nick would just agree and take him into work, so he could have something else to focus on. He couldn't stay in this house and burden Nick. He was suddenly missing his cozy motel room on the outskirts of the city.

"Fine," Nick finally agreed. "We'll go to work. But Greg, please, come back here tonight instead of going home, OK?"

"But I have to—"

"No," Nick interrupted, firmly. "You don't have to do anything right away. No one expects you to be a solid rock the day after the man you loved—"

"Who says I loved him?" Greg interrupted harshly. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Look, Nick, don't pretend like you knew him, or us, because you didn't, OK? He was… someone I dated, for a while, and when he got sick, I just… couldn't just break up with him, I mean, that's just cruel, so…" But the lie tasted bitter, even to him. He tried to spit it out of his mouth and shrug it off, looking Nick directly in the eyes. "It's not something I talk about. So can we just go? Please?"

"I'll take you in, if you promise to come back home with me afterwards," Nick said quietly, in a voice that wouldn't take no for an answer.

Greg concluded that one more night at Nick's wouldn't hurt. He could sneak out the next day and take a cab to the hospital and go home then. "OK," he said, giving in. "OK, I'll impose on you for one other night."

Nick beamed. "Thank you. That makes me feel a whole lot better."