A/N: Hey Guys! Thanks so much for reviewing :) I'm so sorry for lack of updates, but the truth is with revision for exams hitting hard now I can't promise I'll update often, but I will get through every prompt that you have sent me!

This concludes a trio of prompts for McGeeklover who asked what might have happened if Greg had been attacked in 'Ghost of the Past'. Apologies for those of you tiring of hurt Greg prompts, I still love writing them, but maybe you have other suggestions?! Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Plus, hint of Morganders ;)

Summary – Greg was too late realising he was alone with the killer in 'Ghost of the Past', and now he's suffering the consequences.

No More Memory Lane

That cackle, that high-pitched taunt; it sent shivers down Greg's spine. Those shivers had nothing to do with the cold which engulfed him as he stood in the large abandoned slaughterhouse, but were the ripples of fear as the slow and sudden dread began to gradually slip through Greg's veins like ice. He knew what that sound meant, that haunting children's laughter.

He was alone with a killer. No doubt he would soon be joining the slaughtered carcasses of many poor humans and animals before him. Shortly it would be Greg who apparently haunted these walls of purgatory, the Grim Reaper's waiting room, unless of course, he acted fast. But, Greg was already wasting precious seconds making his simple deduction of the man he currently had his back turned to being a murderer.

Greg latched his slight shaky fingers stealthy on to the handle of his gun; thank god he'd had the sense to carry it for once. He began to turn around, but everything seemed to be moving in slow-motion now; he knew one false move could lead to his own death as well as Thomas Pope's.

But it was too late. It appeared that Nick's many years of persisting Greg carried a gun to keep him safe all amounted to nothing. It didn't protect Greg at all. He tried so hard to keep his focus as he fully turned and pointed the weapon right between the eyes of Pope. However, when Greg saw the hammer at the same time swinging towards his head he knew that he didn't stand much of a chance.

He'd never felt pain like it. Not when he'd been flying through the glass of his lab and felt the skin on his back splitting, not when he was on the ground being punched and kicked repeatedly by a gang of drug addicts. He didn't even scream, it was just the hot flash of pain and the sickening crack as the hammer – the tool of destruction – went slamming into the side of Greg's head.

He fell to the ground limply like a doll, his gun scattering across the floor as if was trying to get away and save itself. Greg tried to overcome the darkness which was threatening to consume him, but it was investable really. His head was in so much pain, and he could feel the blood – that dreaded sticky, spiteful substance –trailing down the side of his face and beginning to pool beneath him.

Then there was another sound, the crack of a bullet leaving the comfort of a gun's muzzle; why couldn't that have been Greg firing that shot a few moments earlier? He head a groan of pain and then Thomas Pope fell down beside Greg. There was shouting and scuffling as more people charged into he room.

By this point Greg was fighting harder than ever to try and stay awake. He knew he was badly concussed, and sleeping would not help. Suddenly he was surrounded by people, shouting medical terms he didn't really understand and calling out his name, but it all sounded very muffled and he didn't really have the energy to respond.

"Greg!"

One particular voice got through; it was so unbelievably familiar and thick with a heavy Texan drawl…Nick! In his current state, Greg was highly pleased with himself for making the most simplest of observations.

"Greg, c'mon stay with me!" Nick was begging with him now, and Greg couldn't bear to let him down. Nick Stokes did not beg, so Greg knew his situation must be dire and he must look like he was on death's door.

"N...N…" Greg tried to respond, but he felt weak and humiliated for not even being able to form his best friend's name.

"Ssh, it's okay, you're going to be okay" Nick tried to assure him, but Greg wasn't sure if the declaration was meant for him or Nick himself.

But Greg felt that there was one thing he had to say, because he truly didn't think he could hold on any longer. The darkness seemed more like a comforting blanket to protect him from the pain right now.

"S-sorry" The younger CSI said with his last breath, because he couldn't manage anything more.

"No, no Greg don't you dare, don't you dare!" Nick pleaded as he took hold of his friend's shoulders and shook them desperately, but it was no use.

The last thing Greg saw before he was sucked into nothingness was the whirlwind of despair and terror in his big brother's eyes.

I don't wanna get up. Greg groaned at the sound of his alarm clock going off; he should probably get up though, Grissom would be mad if he didn't… The young man rolled over to put his alarm on snooze, but he found movement difficult and didn't quite understand why. Groggily, he began to open his eyes to try and figure out what the problem was, but if anything it only gave him more questions than answers.

He was not in his bedroom at all, but it a pristine white place; the hospital. The sound which Greg thought had been his alarm clock was in fact the rhythmic beeps of the machine beside him, telling him his heart rate was pretty normal. What the hell had happened to him?

"Greg?" a delicate voice asked beside him.

He turned his head slowly – as it still pained him – to see a beautiful blond woman with sea blue eyes staring at him with tears swimming around, fear and worry very much present.

"Thank God you're awake" she said with a wide smile "It's been three days!"

"Since what?" Greg asked, avoiding the obvious question of who the woman actually was.

The woman frowned sadly "Since you got yourself bashed in the head with a hammer" she said teasingly, clearly trying to make light of the situation.

"Oh…I don't remember" Greg said quietly.

"That's okay, the doctor said you probably wouldn't" the woman explained.

"Erm I don't mean to be rude…" Greg started cautiously after a few awkward moments of the woman just staring at him as if she could barely believe he was alive "…but, who are you?"

The woman gasped; clearly this was bad and she hadn't been expecting it at all. The tears in her eyes only thickened and they looked like they were going to start dropping at any moment. Greg felt bad for making the beautiful woman so sad.

"Y-you're kidding r-right?" she stuttered in disbelief. Greg regrettably shook it's head. "Greg, i-it's Morgan"

Morgan… Greg didn't recall anyone by that name. He squeezed his eyes tight shut in order to try and aid his concentration, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't remember knowing anyone by the name of Morgan.

"I'm sorry, I don't know you" Greg said quietly.

Just then the door opened and Nick came in holding two cups of coffee. Greg relieved a little at the sight of a familiar face, but… Morgan just continued to stare at Greg as if he had two heads.

"G, you're a wake!" Nick said happily as he shot his friend a bright smile. Greg smiled back; he felt safe now. "Thank God, man, you had us all worried" Nick said as he placed the cups down on the table and sat on the side of Greg's bed.

"Yeah, sorry about that" Greg said biting his bottom lip.

"Why do you remember Nick?" Morgan asked quietly; the Texan frowned.

"What do you mean?" the older man asked.

"Greg doesn't remember me" Morgan claimed.

Nick turned back to his friend in the bed with great worry. "What!?" he said more than slightly panicked.

"I remember Nick because he's my best friend and we work at the crime lab together" Greg said, because to him it was so blatantly obvious.

"Okay…" Nick said slowly, wanting to proceed delicately with the matter so as not to freak Greg out. "Who else works with us at the crime lab?" he asked.

"Well there's you, me and Sara…" Greg said; so far so good "And then, Catherine, Grissom and Warrick"

The look which Morgan and Nick shared when he said this told Greg that something was deeply wrong. Nick looked back to his friend with a deeply worried frown and Morgan looked like she could cry all over again.

"Greg, what year do you think this is?" Nick asked quietly.

Greg frowned "two thousand and eight…"

Again, Nick and Morgan shared a look which shook Greg to his very core. He didn't understand what was so terribly wrong, and he still wondered who this mysterious woman was sat by his bedside, looking so lost, just as lost as Greg felt.

"Greg…it's two thousand and thirteen" Nick told him as he placed a delicate hand on his friend's arm.

Greg's eyes widened and he began to shake slightly. "W-what…n-no" he stammered, how could he have possibly lost 5 years of his life!?

"It's true, Greg" Morgan spoke quietly "We've been working together for two years, but as far as you're concerned we haven't even met yet" she explained.

"No" Greg said, this time in defiant denial "No, that's crazy, I'm still asleep or something!" yes that had to be the reason, there was no way he was suffering from amnesia…

"The doctor said it was unlikely you would remember the event" Nick enlightened "but he didn't say it was possible for you to lose five whole years"

"No, stop saying that!" Greg said as he squeezed his eyes shut and gripped onto the side of his head as he tried to block out this obviously fake world and wake himself up.

"Greg…" Nick said gently as he took hold of his friend's hands and lowered them, Greg opened his frightened eyes to look at Nick, the one familiar person in his world right now.

"Wh-where are the others?" Greg asked "Catherine…Grissom…"

"They don't work with us anymore" Nick said sadly "they moved away…and Warrick…" he stopped and bit his bottom lip as it trembled slightly; he didn't think he would ever have to explain this again.

"Nick?" Greg said confused "What happened to Warrick?" there was fear in his voice when he asked the question.

"He's dead" Nick said obviously fighting back the tears "And he has been for four years now"

Greg didn't think he could handle this. Warrick was dead? His friend and mentor was dead? Nick noted how his friend seemed to be reacting worse than he did the first time around, but this time Greg was competing with amnesia too. Nick couldn't even begin to imagine what must be going through Greg's head right now.

Suddenly, Greg's heart rate monitor started going at an alarming rate. He'd gone extremely pale and was shaking more violently than before; he was going into shock.

"Greg!" Morgan cried out in terror; they couldn't be losing him again.

Nick and Morgan were reluctantly ushered out of the room as nurses charged in to try and calm Greg, and in the end they had to sedate him.

When the other two CSIs went back inside, Morgan sat on the edge of Greg's bed and took his hand as he slept, whilst Nick was pacing up and down at the end of the bed. The doctor had explained that Greg's amnesia was only temporary and his memory would be back in a day or so, but still the CSIs were anxious.

"He'll be okay" Nick said more to himself as he continued stepping "We just have to take extra care of him"

"but he doesn't even know me" Morgan said glumly.

"Doc said he'd remember, so don't give up hope" Nick retold her "besides, mysterious hot blonde, you could just tell Greg you're his girlfriend, save us all the stress" he said teasingly.

Morgan smirked at him and then looked back at Greg. "No, I wanna wait. That's the right thing to do"

I wasn't intending on doing a second part for this, I felt you could just of assume Greg got his memory back XD the main focus was just kind of how Greg felt during and after the attack. Besides, I've had a request for a full Morganders story based on the same episode ;)

More prompts would be swell!

Please Review :) xx