Title- Drowning

Warnings- Greggo's Death, but, if you read the other four, you'd figure it out by now. This will probably be the saddest, darkest one I've written. I'm seriously putting as much emotion as I can, and hope this doesn't fall short.

Summary- He felt like he was drowning, and Nick knew it wasn't just the alcohol, but the image of Greg's eyes dimming, that kept choking Nick, holding his head under the water, and he didn't know if he could keep his head up.. or if he even wanted to anymore... WARNING- CHARACTER DEATH, Companion to Not What He Expected, Losing a Son, Getting Clean, and Wishing for Silence, BUT CAN STAND ALONE!

Disclaimer- Like I said, if I owned this show, Greg would die frequently, only to return the next week. Not good for a story that tries to be realistic.

A/N- Once upon a time, my sister got a duckling. She could not handle him. The next day, I had said duckling in my bedroom. He was whining, chirpy little bastard, but I knew I was his only hope. He kept me awake for two whole days. Finally, to distract myself, I started typing. It ended with a one shot- Not What He Expected. Soon, the stories started flowing, the duckling enjoying the sound of me hitting the keys of my keyboard. He would peck at it, to make the same noise, and chirp.

Today, reality came. A duck did not need to live inside. It needed the outside. One hour ago, I went to my local park, and released Sir. He was my best friend, the best thing to help me step into adulthood. I let him go so early. I hope he is ready.

Please keep him in your thoughts, and pray that I trained him to be the best duck he can be. And now, enjoy the final angsty part of the Why? Series. Also, thank you, all my reviewers, my silent readers, those who just randomly clicked. 100 reads was when I would update- you guys did it.

This is for you, Sir. Good luck.

Nick knew why, but relented, watching the blonde run upstairs.

Seconds, minutes, hours past.

A scuffle

A yell

A glance up

A heart that stopped.

Greg

Standing there

Eyes wide

Breath quick

Gun pointed at his head

And man, covered in black, with a hand on the trigger.

Just the memory of Greg standing there, shaking, looking too young for his 32 years was enough to make the Texan regret not looking for more beer. Still, with or without the liquor, the memories would continue, reminding him how he had failed the younger man. Nick Stokes sat against the wall of his apartment, his tears falling so rapidly, he wondered if he could cry a puddle to drown in. He was already drowning, deep inside, and didn't know which way was up… and didn't care.

Unbidden, the memories flooded his senses, taking him back to that day so recently, but so life changing, it felt like years ago.

No one knew what happened upstairs, though, in the investigation, they found signs of a struggle. It warmed Nick's heart, knowing his friend had put up a fight, but it made the fact he lost in the end no easier to accept. As Nick stated in the investigation, Greg Sanders went upstairs alone, looking for evidence in the little girl's room. There seemed to have been a noise, sounding like a scuffle, and, when Nick made his way to the staircase, Greg was being held hostage at the top.

His name was Kevin Berkly. He had been the murderer, but had forgotten his gun, which he stashed under the kid's bed, or so Nick assumed. Kevin didn't, couldn't talk for himself anymore. A bullet to the heart had made sure of that. Nick found himself wishing more and more he had shot him in the arm, or leg.. someplace painful. The kill shot had been too quick for the monster.

Kevin had grabbed Greg, knowing there were police downstairs, and planned to either use him as a shield, or as a trade off for his freedom.

All Nick could truly remember, when he first saw the two, was how young Greg looked. In those few moments, eyes wide, darting left and right, breath coming in and out so quickly, the Texan could have mistaken Sanders for a high school student. It broke his heart, seeing the young man so scared, and knowing his life was truly on the line.

The man, Kevin (he had long hair, pulled into a pony tail, and blue eyes that said 'Yes, I am in charge, you have no control,' and was wearing all black), pointed the gun at Greg's head, right against his temple, and the young CSI 1 paled. Nick was sure he paled some, also.

He wanted to walk through the door, promised the 'boy' would be safe and sound.

"Don't worry, Tex, this boy is my ticket out of here. Move over and let us through, and I promise.." The man pushed the gun a bit into Greg's temple, and Nick grinded his teeth as he watched the other wince, "Not a single lil' hair out of place."

Then, before Nick could move, Brass walked in, and it just went downhill. Literally. Within seconds, the Captain had his gun out, pointing it at the suspect. Nick also pulled out his gun, but the man (Kevin, beast, monster) never wavered, only smiled. The smile was pure evil, all knowing, and Nick knew it would haunt his memories for the rest of his life. The entire day would. Even now, awake, they came, drowning him, reminding how much he had lost, what he could never get back, and how he had failed. He was a failure.

"So, this is how it's going down?" the suspect said, almost sadly, before pressing the gun against Greg's scalp, making the youngest man wince once more, and try to shuffle away, but the arm wrapped around his neck kept him in place.

"Drop the gun!" Nick wasn't sure who had said it, but it only made the suspect laugh, before he started squeezing the trigger.

On instinct, Brass shot, hitting the man in the shoulder. His eyes widened, his shoulder shifting backwards, giving Nick the perfect kill shot. He didn't think twice- He shot. It was perfect, but, on reflects, the suspect shot also. His aim was off, Greg's skull was safe, but the flair of pain on his too pale face meant it had hit. Then, both bodies came tumbling down the stairs.

Instantly, Nick went to Greg, worried. Even if he had missed the kill shot, even if the suspect was still alive, even if he had justpbut his life on the line, it wouldn't matter- Greg was hurt, and that was the only thing that did.

Nick flipped Greg over, and couldn't stop the moan.

Even now, after days of trying to get over it, Nick remembered seeing that damn wound, gaping at him. He didn't know just how bad it was, how deadly it was, but when the Texan had seen it, he knew it spelled trouble. He wondered how things would have ended if he had shot just a second earlier. Would Greg be there to talk it over with him, tell him there was nothing he could have done? Nick thought he would, which was why he cared for the younger man, his little brother, so much. The lab rat kept the CSI's head above the waters, kept him from drowning in his sorrows, but now, because it was the lab tech's fault, no one knew how to keep him up.

Just blaming Greg seemed so wrong, making Nick feel so dirty. He glanced down, and groaned, still seeing the blood all over himself, even though he took 6 showers that day. Greg had always been there for him, and, when Nick needed him to most, it was because he had left that Nick suffered. Still, it was wrong, and, when he thought about it, he wished he had been the one taken, he had been the one to be traded, he had been the one who's life was on the line, he was the one who was shot..

Shot through the throat. Right there, gaping at him, was a hole, just the right size for a bullet, but, in Nick's mind, he could fit his whole hand through. It was so wrong. It was so out of place..

Then, Greg let out a gurgling breath, and blood started pouring out.

Without thinking about it, he took off his shirt, wrapping it around Greg's neck, trying to help, trying to do something, anything. Quickly, the white began to fade into a pink color, then, it was bright red.

Nick had donated every white shirt in his house the day he got home, hoping it would keep the memories at bay. It didn't help.

"Nick…. Fuck… It hurts.. a bit…. Paper cut?" Nick laughed brokenly and Greg talked, his breath wheezing, his eyes fading. It would be like him to try and joke. A strangled breath drew his attention, and, as Nick watched, he saw Greg grow serious. Nick couldn't help but be thankful Greg's trachea was not destory- he might have a chance...

Nick had been the only one there, at the start, and he had to sit there, and listen as Greg gave him his dying words. It was so wrong, the youngest dying like that, but it made it so much harder to have to go to everyone, and relate what he had been told.

"Lab rats.. underappreciated. Love them… us… or we… will poison.. the coffee." Nick laughed at that as he memorized everything. He would tell them, even if it killed him.

"Hodges.. ass… Archie… he can have… Star Trek replica.. he'll know… Mia.. gets my iPod… Bobby… gets my candy stash.. Wendy… gets my… lab… Tell them…. Game night… rocks…." He coughed, blood dripping from his lips, but there was a look of determination.

"Grissom… tell him… I've had… Arachnophobia.. from day one… office… horror house… Good man otherwise.. taught me so much…" Nick knew the supervisor would get a kick out of this little confession. In a year… maybe..

"Catherine… hot.. once watched a video.. of her stripping… Research… amazing woman… second Mom…. Though she can be worse… than my original mom." Nick let out a laugh, wondering how Catherine would react.

"Sara… scary when mad… you all.. should get sleeping pills… for when she's in her moods. Made my… work fun to do… Thank her… good times. " Nick felt the tears trailing down as the light was fading from Greg's eyes, but the younger man wouldn't stop, couldn't.

"Warrick…. Scary also… always thought he would punch me…. Lost so many bets to him… Tell him… 300 dollars in my pillowcase… is for him. The money I owe." Greg smiled, blood slowly trickling down his chin, making Nick cry harder. Life was unfair.

"Nick.. don't drown… you are awesome… my best friend..Love you, man.. love you all…" Nick let out a choked sob just as Greg started coughing, blood gently spewing out. It was so wrong… "Lots of fun… best unrelated brother… only brother… man.." He weakly held up his fist, and Nick instantly pressed his knuckles to Greg's, but the other let his hand drop, and continued, "Secretly.. like country… you get… all my CDs… 452 of them… And… my porn. Located… Hodges' bottom left drawer, CSI handbook… in lab…. Under the counter in… break room, Under Ecklie's desk… some under Grissom's too…"

Suddenly, something changed, and Greg's eyes widened, and he grabbed Nick's hand. He started coughing in earnest, and blood kept coming out, but not enough. It took Nick a second to realize the man was drowning in his own blood. Glancing down, he realized there was a large puddle forming, too large… too fast. Nick felt the hope dim as Greg's eyes began to unfocus..

A grip on his elbow made him draw his eyes away from the red to Greg's brown eyes, faded and worn. Slowly, he leaned forward and whispered one last sentence, "In.. break room…. Behind the T.V. in… the corner…. Find it…" And then, Greg started choking harder, if that was possible. A door open behind him, but, when he looked, it was Sara and Warrick, standing there, as a gurgling noise started to escape Greg's mouth.

Nick focused on Greg, shaking him, hitting him against his back, anything to help, but nothing was. And then… the gurgling stopping.. Greg had passed away, literally, in Nick's arms.

Even now, he could feel the ghost weight of Greg's body. The ambulance had shown up a few minutes too late, but the blood at already cooled, and there was no way to clear Greg's airway… every breath came right back out through the neck. Nick had carried his little brother, cradled against him, to the ambulance. They could do nothing, but Greg deserved the ride.. not to be taken in some body bag.

He couldn't go to the autopsy, couldn't watch as Doc Robbins cut the Y into the young man. He had heard rumors that there would be no investigation, that Greg wasn't going to be sliced, but Nick wasn't sure who started it, or why. It was just how things go… Except…

Except, now, as he felt himself sink down further and further into himself, into his guilt, no one would call to offer a night of beer and bad movies, giving him a chance to rant. He could never show the young man how thankful he was, all those days Greg had been there. Never say thank you.. Never do the same for when it got too tough..

In death, Greg had shown how strong he was, trying to comfort everyone with his parting words, but Nick realized just how weak they were without him. He was everyone's floatation device, keeping them above the darkness of the sea, of real life. Brought sunlight to their dark world. Now, everyone knew what they were missing, and it made the darkness that more unbearable… and Nick thought, before he passed out because of the alcohol and lack of sleep, he might not be the only one drowning in the darkness with the departure of their sunlight.

Sir, hope I made you proud.

Ok, I am SURE there are a few MILLION questions out there…. No worries, there is a sequel, of sorts, a chaptered story. The name is being debated, seriously considering calling it "Why Not?" So, keep an eye out for it.

If you liked what you read, I LOVE FEEDBACK, and will talk to you and drop hints about my future work. Thank you, once more, and see you soon.

Rehgai~