Chapter Three – All My Love

When Nick woke up, he wasn't prepared for the earful from his own father. He wasn't even aware his old man was even in the city, until he appeared beside his bed, giving him an hour long explanation over why he should move back to Texas. He was grateful for the pain meds at this point, but he would have preferred a sedative to knock him out completely, rather than having to listen to another moment of his father's speech.

He was trying to listen to him, really he was, but he was exhausted and there was a beautiful distraction right outside his room by the name of Greg.

The younger man's lips in particular.

Nick shifted himself on his bed, looking past his father at the man stood outside his room. He tried to remember the kiss from the alleyway, but things were starting to get a little foggy past the car ride. He could almost taste him, but he couldn't remember the feel of his kiss for the life of him.

"I've booked you a flight for the end of the week."

Nick snapped his head up to meet his father's stern gaze, so fast that he almost gave himself whiplash.

"A flight?" He spoke for the first time, his throat dry and scratchy. "Dad, I'm thirty nine years old. Do you really think you can force me to get on a flight back home, just so you and Mama can keep an eye on me? I'm old enough to make my own decisions."

His father's grey eyes stayed locked on his. "Nicholas, we almost lost you today. Your mother has been worried sick about you for months. Do you realise how selfish you're being by puttin' us through this again? Do you even care how we feel about this career choice of yours?"

"Warrick died. Not me." Nick barked back at him. "Where were you when I needed you the most? My best friend was lyin' dead on a slab and you were too busy with your campaign to even return one phone call."

"So it's my fault now?" His father rolled his eyes, backing away towards the door. "Warrick didn't have a family. You do. A family that loves you. We've always been there for you. I don't understand why you would want to put your life on the line everyday for low life scum that leave you bleedin' out in an alley."

Nick sniffled back his tears, dropping his head back to his pillow. "You really didn't know Warrick at all." He shook his head, searching for Greg at the window, but he had left him too. "He had a family. He had a wife. A newborn son. He put his life on the line everyday for complete strangers, because he cared. He wanted to do the right thing. He had a big heart. The biggest heart of anyone I've ever known. He cared… more than I ever could."

"So what, you want to end up dead on a slab like your friend?"

"If this is all you came here to say, then you might as well leave now." He adjusted the pillow beneath his head, staring up at the blank ceiling above him, rather than his father. He ignored the man's weak apology, waiting until he left the room, before he let his tears flow free.

Until he heard a light knock at the door.

Nick reached his good hand up to wipe away his tears, clearing his throat, before he called out, "Come in." He was hoping it was Greg. He really needed to speak to him or see a friendly face after what happened today, but it appeared he had left him too.

"Hi, Nick." Sara stepped through the door, wearing her CSI vest with a camera draped around her neck. "It's just me." She visibly gulped at the sight of his injuries. "How are you feeling? That's probably a dumb question."

"Better." He croaked.

"Good." She stepped closer, softly biting her bottom lip. "Nick, I uh… I hope you don't mind, but I need to photograph your bruises... for our evidence." She raised the camera from around her neck, waiting for him to nod, before she stepped closer.

"Where's Greg I thought he was workin' my case?"

"He was." Sara pulled out a marker from her vest. "Now that he's a witness to the shooting, Grissom's taken him off your case. He was kinda shaken up too. Grissom fought tooth and nail with Ecklie over getting me on the case. Ecklie wanted to put the newbie from swing shift on your case. He doesn't even have any field experience yet. Can you lift your arm up slightly?" She motioned to the bruises on his chest.

Nick breathed in a deep breath, before he attempted to lift his busted arm from the bed. He flinched slightly from the feel of the cold plastic marker against his chest, closing his eyes as she took a few pictures of each heel spike bruise on his chest.

"Other side now." Sara made her way round the other side of the bed, looking at the gunshot wound bandage on his shoulder. "The doctor said you shouldn't lift this arm, so can you just move it slightly away from your chest."

"I know the drill, Sara." He reminded her, closing his eyes as she started to photograph the other side of his chest. She took a shot of the boot sized bruise to his abdomen, before she fetched a nurse to remove the bandage of the gunshot wound.

"Ahh," He groaned in pain.

"Sorry, sweetheart." The nurse wearing antlers gently replaced the bandage to his shoulder. She checked on the monitors beside his bed, casting her eyes towards the CSI opposite her. "He really needs to rest now."

"It's alright. I'm all done." Sara set her camera aside, giving her colleague a sympathetic smile. "I have some good news for you. Grissom found your truck. Shortly after you were taken away in the ambulance, Brass tracked your shooter to a nearby motel. Her pimp operates out of there. He had half a dozen girls there earning for him. The deputies went door to door searching for your Crystal and her pimp decided to go out in a blaze of fire. They found your truck parked around back in the lot."

"A blaze of fire?" Nick gave her a curious look. "Was anyone shot?"

"Yeah, a deputy took one in the vest." Sara tried to remember the details, while she packed up her things. "He's got a nasty bruise, but he'll be alright. Crystal was grazed on the arm. She's downstairs getting some stitches and her pimp took one in the knee cap. Crystal rated him out as the guy who mugged you. He's having surgery now, but we got them. Greg's giving his statement now. With all the evidence, we've got them dead to rights."

"Bullet fragments." The nurse handed a small vial over to Sara, watching her labelling it up for their evidence. "Are you all done? I have other patients to tend to."

"Yeah," Sara gently tapped her colleague's hand. "Look after yourself, Nick. I'll see you in a few hours."

"Thanks, Sara." Nick gave her a slight smile back, watching her packing away the last of her things. "Hey, is Greg still here?"

"Uh, yeah. I think so. He was talking to Brass last I saw." She remembered, backing away towards the door. "Maybe this Christmas you should use up some of that leave you've been saving up. I saw your father downstairs. When was the last time you visited home?"

"It's not my home anymore, Sara. You should know that better than anyone."

"I never had a childhood home." Sara pointed out to him. "Yours is still standing with both your parents still inside. Christmas is a time for family, or so I'm told. Maybe you should be with people who love you for a change."

"Are you sayin' you don't love me?" He cracked a smile in her direction.

"Bye, Nicky." The woman responded with a smile, finally leaving his room.

"Alright, Mr Stokes," The nurse beside his bed unhooked him from one of the machines. "We're moving you upstairs to a recovery ward now. A porter will be along in a minute. You should be able to get some sleep up there. Your friend, Greg has been asking after you since they brought you in. He almost got himself dragged out by security for breaking into your room earlier."

"Greg did?"

"Yeah, he must really care about you." The woman gave him a smile, turning for the door as her porter finally showed up. "Mr Stokes up to ward four, please. I'll let your father know where you've been moved."

Nick groaned softly, keeping his mouth shut as they took him up to the ward by the elevator. He hated small spaces. He was never that keen on them growing up, but his fear only got worse after his trip six feet underground in his torture chamber. He had tried to avoid elevators where he could to keep his panic attacks at bay, but he didn't exactly have a choice this time around.

"I have to get out." Nick struggled to sit up, only aggravating his injuries even more. "Please, let me out. I can't be in here."

"Mr Stokes, we're almost there. If you could just stay lying down. You're going to hurt yourself." The antler wearing nurse struggled to keep him on the gurney. She ushered the porter over, doing her best to keep the shaky man on the gurney. "Nick please, you're going to pop your stitches. We're almost there. Just take in a few deep breaths for me. That's it… look… look we're on your floor." She motioned his attention towards the doors opening behind them. "We're here, okay. We're not in the elevator anymore. Can you stay on the gurney for me?"

Nick white knuckle clutched the rails to his gurney through the ward, feeling the blood returning to his face as they positioned him by the window. He felt as though he could barely breathe, but his nurse, Rachel stayed at his side the whole time, talking him through some breathing techniques until he calmed down.

"Here's some water for you, sweetheart." Rachel returned to his side, handing him the cup of water. She finally removed the antlers from her head, brushing her fingers through her auburn hair. "So you don't like small spaces?" She curiously asked, perching herself on the edge of his bed. She looked as though she was in her late forties, but she had a look in her eye that reminded him of his mother.

"Four years ago, I was trapped in a coffin underground." Nick spoke softly, waiting for the look of pity to cross her features. "A suspect on one of our cases, he wanted his daughter's case reviewed, and he thought the best way forward was to take a CSI and torture them until the lab did what he wanted."

"That's awful." The woman spoke softly. "You've really been in the wars, haven't you?"

"It comes with the job."

"Have you ever thought about changing careers?" She really sounded like his mother now, but Nick was starting to wonder if they were right. He used to do the job because it made him happy. He felt as though it was what he was born to do. But ever since he lost Warrick, he felt as though he was forcing himself to do the job out of duty.

"I don't know anymore." The man turned his head towards the window, smiling slightly as it was finally day time.

It was Christmas morning at last.

After a long night, Nick finally managed to doze off to sleep without the assist of alcohol, sleeping for at least three hours, before the nurse woke him up checking his obs. He wanted to snap at her for disturbing the first good sleep he had in months, until he spotted a certain young man asleep on the end of his bed. He had his arms cradled around his head, but the hair was unmistakably Greg's and he was beautiful in the morning sunshine.

He didn't want to wake him for the world, but of course nothing ever worked out how it was supposed to.

A young nurse wearing a snowman jumper stumbled into a trolley full of the lunch time dishes, sending the china mugs, plates and metal cutlery crashing to the ground. The clattering sound immediately woke up the sleeping angel on the end of his bed, an adorable look of shock written across his features.

"Hey," Nick smiled down at him. "Mornin', sleepyhead."

"Hi," Greg ran his fingers through his hair, giving out a wide yawn as he sat up straight. He stretched out his arms either side of him, giving his sore back a rub, before he returned the older man's smile. "I don't recommend these chairs. How long have you been awake?"

"Not long."

"You're giving me that look again." Greg pulled his chair a little closer to Nick's bed, gently trailing his fingertips across the older man's bruised knuckles. "I thought you'd have a change of heart without the alcohol in your system."

"You wonna blame my feelin's for you on the drugs in my system now? Hey," He quickly reached out to catch Greg's hand, before he could pull it away. "You were the one who kissed me, remember." Nick pulled his hand closer, presenting the younger man with a smile. "Don't go all shy on me now, Greg."

"I'm not." Warmth filled his cheeks again, but Greg didn't care this time. "I thought I was going to lose you, Nicky."

"Is that the only reason you did it?"

Greg shook his head, adoring the look in the older man's eyes. "No, I kissed you because… because it's something I've always wanted to do. I never took the chance before, because I don't exactly have a good track record when it comes to relationships. I ruin every relationship I touch. I never wanted to lose you as a friend, so I thought it would be easier to just keep you at a distance." He gently wove his fingers between Nick's, giving the man a half smile. "But I can't do it anymore; you've got me invested too deep to get out."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Is it a bad thing." Greg spoke softly. "I can't be in a relationship with someone who has a death wish. A relationship like that can't last. Today you've put me through hell, Nick. I can't go through that again."

"I'm not plannin' on getting' shot again anytime soon." He tried to lighten the mood, holding onto the younger man's hand as he tried to get up. "I don't have a death wish. Don't go. Please Greg, just sit down a minute. I can't exactly chase you down like this. Please."

Greg couldn't resist those eyes. He wanted to save himself some heartache, but he was powerless with those eyes looking at him. He reluctantly sat himself back down, watching Nick helplessly adjusting himself in the bed.

"I just wanted to feel somethin'… anythin' other than feelin' empty. You don't know how hard it's been to keep it together, G. The moment you left town, I've felt so empty and alone. You've always been the one thing I could hold onto. The one thing I could rely on always being there for me."

"Nick…"

"I don't want to die." He assured him, stopping him from making his argument. "I just want to sleep."

"Putting yourself in danger helps you sleep?"

"I didn't set out to get mugged, beaten up and shot all in the same night, Greg." Nick pointed out the obvious to him. "I just wanted a quiet drink, before I crashed for the night. Is it really my fault that they targeted me as an easy mark? Even complete strangers can see how pathetic I am, but my best friend can't find the time in his fake book tours schedule to return a phone call."

"I shouldn't have lied about the book tour." Greg confessed, leaning himself back in the uncomfortable chair. "I was covering a friend's maternity leave at the San Francisco lab. When the offer came up after Warrick's funeral… I jumped at the chance to escape it all. I thought that if I could step away from it all… I wouldn't feel so empty, but I just felt worse."

"And ignorin' my calls?"

Dropping his elbows to the bed, Greg cradled his head in his hands, letting his tears flow free. He wasn't much of a crier. He usually held it all in, never shedding a tear, especially around company, but he just couldn't help himself today.

It was all too much.

"Greg," He reached his hand out for him, gently combing his fingers through the younger man's hair. "Greg, it doesn't bother me that much."

"No." Sniffling back his tears, Greg wiped his hands across his cheeks, looking up into the older man's eyes. "There's no excuse. I almost lost you today. I've missed being around you, talking to you, even looking at you. I thought that by letting you go I was saving our friendship, but I don't want to just be your friend anymore, Nick. You mean everything to me." He climbed to his feet, sitting himself on the bed where he could look into Nick's eyes. "I do love you. More than you could ever know. And the thought of losing you, terrifies me more than anything in the world."

The Texan's lips twitched into a beautiful smile.

"I tell you my biggest fear and you smile?" Greg frowned back at him.

"Yeah, I'm smilin'. I'm smilin' because you're not goin' to lose me, G." Nick caught his arm to stop him from leaving, ignoring the pain in his body as he pulled the younger man into his embrace. "Hey, c'mon gorgeous... don't leave now. Have I ever told you how adorable you look when you cry?" He trailed his fingertips across Greg's cheek, wiping away his beautiful tears.

"You've never seen me cry."

"I have now. And I think you're absolutely beautiful." The Texan smiled, brushing his thumb through another tear. "All my life… there's only one person I've ever wanted to share my life with, and he's finally sittin' right in front of me on Christmas Day."

With his face flushing a deep shade of red, Greg finally decided to close the gap between them, finishing what he started earlier. Only this time, he wasn't holding anything back. He held Nick's head in his hands, claiming every corner of his mouth like it belonged to him.

"Merry Christmas, Nicky."

Thanks so much for reading, just the epilogue to go now. I hope you've enjoyed this story so far, please let me know what you thought.

Happy New Year everyone!

~ Holly