Title: Amazing Grace
By: TheyreJustWords
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Nick told everyone that he had recovered from the incident with Walter Gordon. But then something happens that makes Greg realize that Nick really wasn't alright. Post-Grave Danger.

***

Nick Stokes walked through the side gate of 1142 Lancor Street into the disastrous back yard. It was a CSI's worst nightmare. It was a murder investigation; a fire caused by a homemade bomb that had resulted in a death, and there was 'evidence' everywhere.

Metal containers, bolts of wiring, and pipes of all shapes and sizes filled the small backyard. Electronics were piled in heaps, plumbing equipment was rusting everywhere. Stacks and stacks of junk rose up all around him, some higher than Nick's head. It looked like a hardware store graveyard.

They had ruled out the owner of the junk heap within hours, he had been away on a honeymoon with his 4th wife at the time, but the evidence had clearly led them to his yard. It was Nick's job to find the suspect from the dozens of people who visited the yard looking for supplies; it was all they had to go on. So far he had found 200 some-odd fingerprints on the hundreds of surfaces. Jacqui officially hated him.

Nick carefully picked his way through the stacks and piles of pipes and various other rusting metal pieces. Some of them had been tossed haphazardly together and were somewhat dangerous. He had already toppled three separate stacks of the long pipes and lumber while taking print samples, once just barely jumping out of the way before a thick pole, over 5 inches in diameter, hit him in the head.

He finally reached his destination, a small shed at the back of the yard; the bane of his existence over the past week. Inside the tiny shed three walls were lined from floor to ceiling with shelves full of small electronic devices. Detonators and remotes of all kinds, waiting to be attached to something.

He opened the rusted door and stared into the small space. It was dark inside, no electricity ran to the small shed, and the ceiling and every available corner was filled with cobwebs. It had taken him a full day just to dust and inspect all the small surfaces, and he wasn't quite done yet. It was all he had left, one small section of shelves, and then he got to leave this place behind for good.

The building was too small to properly work in so he had taken to gathering an armload of the small plastic and metal pieces and taking them outside. And to be quite honest, he couldn't stand being inside the cramped, boxed-in room. Even with the door left open as wide as it would go--the rusted hinges only opening so far--it was just too oppressive.

Nick set his bag on the ground and carefully spread out a large sheet of plastic on which to deposit the devices in the nearest open area, about 10 yards from the small structure, then he walked into the back of the shed.

A moment after he knelt on the ground he could feel the vibrations from a large truck passing by the house through his knees. Nick could hear when it passed by the front of the house, the loud roar interrupting the quietness he had been enjoying. The ground seemed to shake beneath his knees. Suddenly he recognized a much nearer noise. The distinctive sound of metal clanging together and crashing to the ground.

The tentative hold that the chaotic yard had held on itself finally gave way and piles of lumber and pipes came crashing down everywhere. A large pipe crashed to the ground on the other side of the half open door, falling on his equipment and smashing it to pieces.

Another pile fell against the shed, rocking the inside and sending remotes of all sizes crashing to the floor. The dilapidated building shuddered and pipes fell down all around it, clanging loudly in Nick's ears. Suddenly the door swung shut, banging loudly and casting Nick into darkness.

Nick sprang to his feet, his heart suddenly pounding, the walls closing in around him. He groped for the door, knocking items off their shelves as he went, and gripped the cold handle.

The knob twisted in his hands but when he pushed on the door it didn't move. Irrational fear gripped him like cold ice. The darkness around him became a living thing and he could feel it creeping around him, pulling him back into the shadows.

All rationality fled and he shoved at the door with all his strength, pounding on the hard surface. It had no give but he kept pushing, straining against the rough wood, kicking at the base and pulling back to slam into the unforgiving surface with his full body weight.

Nothing happened. The door shuddered under his assault but didn't budge and he suddenly felt sick. He pulled away from the door, his shoulders hunching, pulling himself away from the walls. It was too close. It was all too close. Too familiar. Too dark and over-whelming. A spider fell from ceiling, landing on his cheek, and he screamed.

***


"Greg, where's Nick?"

Greg looked up from the trash he was sifting through, staring at Grissom like he had just asked Greg to explain the mating habits of Australian pygmies.

"Why would I know that?"

Grissom looked up from the papers in his hand. "I don't know." He looked back down at the chemical analysis he had been studying. Greg went back to picking carefully through moldy sandwich crusts and 3 day old coffee grounds.

"Well?"

Greg looked back up again, confused. "Well what?"

"Where is Nick?" Grissom asked again.

Greg gaped at him. Grissom still managed to confuse and frustrate him on a regular basis and Greg wasn't sure how. "I don't know. Where is he supposed to be?"

"He said he was going back to finish up in that junk yard, but he should have been back hours ago."

"Try his cell phone." Greg picked up a small piece of orange plastic, part of what he had been looking for in the first place, and set it aside.

"I did. He's not answering." Grissom turned around and started to walk away. "Go to the house, would you, Greg, and tell him to come back. I need to show him something."

Greg sighed and picked out another small piece of orange plastic. "Fine. But you get to tell Sara she's on garbage duty now."

Grissom looked up at him as he walked away. "You can just finish it when you get back."

Greg's mouth fell open and he started to protest, but it was obvious that Grissom wasn't listening.

***


Greg stared into the ruinous yard with distaste, pulling the dark aviators off his eyes. He had been on the scene when it first came up, but had been reassigned to a homicide 2 days ago. It was obvious that something had happened in the yard. The chaos from a week ago had been almost organized in a haphazard way. This was just a disaster.

His eyes swept over the mess of metal and wood but he didn't see Nick in the chaos. He carefully began to make his way toward the back of the yard, stepping over piles of toppled items, making sure not to slip and twist something.

He finally made his way back to a semi-clear area near the shed. Nick's bag was lying on top of a tarp, crushed under a pile of pipes. Greg bent down and picked up the small rectangular cell phone beside the bag. '6 missed calls' the screen read.

Greg was concerned now. What had happened here? Where was Nick? He slipped the phone into his back pocket and turned away from the shed. "Nick!" His shout was immediately followed by a soft cry from behind him.

"Nick?"

"Greg! Greg, help me! Please help me!" Nick's voice sounded desperate and strained, coming from behind the blocked door of the shed. "Greg, please. Please let me out. Let me out!"

"Okay, okay. Hold on, Nicky. Just calm down."

"Let me out. Let me out of here, please. Please, Greg. Please."

Greg could hear the desperate fear in Nick's voice and his heart broke for the other man. He rushed forward and immediately began pulling at the pile of rubbish that blocked the door. Pipes and boxes and wooden beams had fallen and created a barrier, locking Nick in from the outside.

Greg yanked at the heavy objects, trying to untangle them from one another as quickly as possible, all the time repeating what he hoped were soothing words to the desperate man inside. He could hear Nick's own pathetic whimpers and pleas for help over the noise of clanging metal.

After an eternity he finally pushed the last of the debris away and yanked open the door, sending it crashing against the side of the shed. Inside Nick was crouched on the dirty ground, his arms wrapped protectively around himself. As soon as the light hit him he scrambled to his feet and stumbled out of the small shed.

He lost his balance on his unsteady feet and ran into Greg, sending both of them crashing to the ground. Greg wrapped his arms around Nick's solid frame as they fell, protecting him from the hard piles of rubbish. Greg landed against the pipes, taking the full weight of Nick on his body and the wind was knocked from his lungs. A blinding pain shot up his back and he knew he'd have a round bruise from the end of the pipe.

It took a moment for him to catch his breath and when he did he realized that Nick was crying. Sobbing, in fact. Great, painful breaths that shook his whole body as warm tears hit Greg's neck. Nick's arms had wrapped around Greg as they fell and he was clutching the younger man tightly, holding onto him like a lifeline.

Greg carefully tightened his arms around Nick, holding him firmly against his chest as the pipe dug deeper into his back, and let him cry.

***


"He's a wreck, Grissom."

Gil sighed and moved the phone to his other ear. "Where is he now?"

"In my car." Greg looked over at his dirty Passat, at the huddled mess of a man inside. Nick was hunched over in the front seat. His arms were wrapped around his stomach, protecting himself, and his brow was furrowed in distress, tear tracks drying on his cheek bones. The sight broke Greg's heart.

There was silence on the other side of the line. "He... God, Grissom, he's... his hands. He tore them apart trying to get out." Greg had seen Nick's hands when he had checked him over for injury as he helped him out of the junkyard and into the car. They were bruised and covered in blood where he had torn the skin off, literally trying to claw his way out of the shed. His knuckles were all cracked open and he had torn several nails partially off.

"I'll send someone else to take care of the scene. Tell him to take the rest of the day off. And Greg..."

"Yeah?"

"Go with him."

'Take care of him', was what Greg heard. "Alright."

***


Greg drove Nick back to the older man's apartment, the entire ride spent in awkward silence, and followed him inside, fully prepared to do his duty and take care of him. He washed and bandaged his damaged hands, carefully pulling splinters from his skin without comment, then waited patiently outside his bedroom while he changed into clean, more comfortable clothes.

After Nick let him back into the dark room Greg watched silently as the older man crawled beneath the blankets on his bed and turned over to his side, curling up into a ball and staring at the wall across from him.

Uncertain as to what to do next, but knowing he couldn't leave Nick alone, Greg stood awkwardly in the room for a moment before leaving to retrieve a chair from the dining room. When he returned to the bedroom he set the chair down and turned to shut the door, but a soft whimper from the bed stopped him.

"Please leave it open." Nick's dark brown eyes were turned on him, unveiled fear in their deep depths. Greg nodded and released the knob, then pulled the chair over to the bedside and settled down. He picked up a book from the nightstand, a fiction novel about the California gold rush, and began to flip through the pages, allowing Nick some semblance of privacy so he could sleep.

He heard Nick shift and settle, then listened carefully from behind the book as the other man's breathing began to slow and steady into the deep, even rhythm of sleep. Greg set the book down and sighed heavily, looking over at Nick's sleeping form. He looked so small, curled up like a child, his bandaged hands pulled up to his face.

Greg leaned forward and brushed a lock of dirty hair from Nick's forehead. He wondered how long he had been locked in the shed. Grissom said he was supposed to be back to the lab hours ago. Was he trapped in there that long? All alone in the dark, waiting for someone to come find him. Again.

Greg didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to picture Nicky, lost and alone, reliving the nightmare of what had happened to him. Nick had gotten over the kidnapping and burial remarkably well. Grissom had ordered him to take time off, but he had refused to stay away for long, coming back far sooner than any of them thought he should, claiming that he needed to get on with his life if he was going to forget.

It had almost seemed as if they, the rest of the team, had taken it harder than Nick had. They had all changed in some way or another. Grissom had fretted over all of them for months in an entirely un-Grissom like way; having finally gotten his team back he wasn't about to loose them again. Catherine and Sara had spent long weeks cooing over Nick and trying not to look obvious. Warrick had even gone so far as to get married on a whim, the guilt and fear he had been feeling moving him to do things he never would have before.

And Greg... well Greg had found it easiest to just worry in silence. He had watched Nick closely, in almost a paranoid way, ever since 'it' had happened. He had watched him in the lab and out in the field. Worried profusely when he went out to a scene alone. Over-analyzed every move, every word that came out of Nick's mouth.

How could he be so calm, so normal after what had happened? Greg knew that if it had happened to him he would still be in his apartment, hiding from the world. But Nick had simply accepted it and moved on. Or so it seemed.

The events of today had proven otherwise. Nick was obviously not okay. In fact, today he had seemed almost broken when Greg had finally opened the shed door. The terrified look in Nick's eyes had resurfaced all the feelings of horror and heartbreak for Greg that he had felt when they had pulled Nicky from the ground, covered in dirt and ant bites.

He had wanted nothing more than to gather the other man in his arms on that warm May night and protect him from the world. But he hadn't even been allowed to go with him in the ambulance. He had to stay behind and process the crime scene; process the box that had nearly killed his friend. The deep, painful bruise on his back was meaningless compared to the feeling of being allowed to hold him today as he cried out his pain and fear.

Greg gently stroked the scar of an ant bite on Nick's neck, then settled back into the chair to wait out the night.

***


Nick shifted in the soft cocoon of his blankets, fighting off the waking world for just a few minutes longer. He wasn't sure why, but something told him he didn't want to wake up today. He searched his fuzzy brain, trying to find the reason why. Was it the case he was working on? Was there a child involved? He hated those cases.

No. No, it was just that stupid arson case with all its pipes and... and the shed and the darkness and... Greg. Nick's eyes shot open and he sat up, tense muscles screaming as he twisted to look at the place where he had last seen Greg.

And he was still there. The younger man was slumped over in one of Nick's dining room chairs, his chin resting on his chest, the blanket from Nick's couch draped over his shoulders and hanging off his sleeping frame. He looked ridiculously uncomfortable.

Nick opened his mouth, intending to wake Greg, thank him, and send him on his way. But no sound came out because he had no idea what to say. Thank you for saving me, again? Thank you for letting me cry my eyes out on your shoulder? Thank you for brining me home and putting me to bed like a child because I was too much of a mess to take care of myself?

Yeah, that wasn't going to work.

Instead Nick rose slowly, walked quietly over to Greg's hunched over form, and carefully lifted him by the shoulders. Nick suppressed a laugh at Greg's predictability. He had always pegged Greg as a deep sleeper. The younger man rose without waking and followed Nick compliantly to the bed.

Greg snuggled down into the spot Nick had just vacated, never once stirring from sleep, and curled himself around Nick's pillow. Nick would allow the one-time lab rat to wake in his own time, and then he could deal with the situation however he chose to. Right now Nick didn't feel like doing anything about it.

***


Greg yawned and stretched lazily, blinking at the chair he was certain he had occupied through the night. The fact that he was in Nick's bed instead of the chair didn't faze him though. He was a deep sleeper. Strange things happened to him when he slept.

He sat up and looked around at the room he had barely glanced at the night before, taking in the details this time. There was a large bed, minus one level three CSI. A dresser with neatly piled clothes stacked on the top waiting to be put away. A nightstand by the bed complete with lamp, clock, and book; and a desk in the corner with a computer and encyclopedia set on top.

It was typical. Every bachelor in the country had a room just like it. Minus, of course, the bookshelf full of tomes with labels like: Criminal Profiling: An Introduction to Behavioral Evidence Analysis and Scientific and Legal Applications of Bloodstain Pattern Interpretation.

Greg stretched again and slid out of the bed, tossing the blankets back in a half-way orderly fashion, then went in search of his missing CSI.

***


Nick knew Greg was awake. He could sense another alert presence in the apartment and his body tensed. He was starting to have second thoughts about leaving the confrontation up to Greg. What would the other man say? What would Nick say back?

The tension in Nick's body grew until he was shaking with it. He didn't want to do this. Not now, not ever. Why couldn't Greg just leave? Leave Nick to himself and his thoughts. Leave everything the way it had been before yesterday. He could handle that.

He could handle the inquisitive questions from Catherine and Sara. He could handle Warrick looking at him with guilt written in every look and word he spoke. He could handle Grissom watching him every time he walked by his office or they worked a case together with that obnoxious 'all-knowing' look that Grissom had perfected.

But he couldn't handle this. He couldn't handle having Greg in his house, after he had rescued him again and taken care of him. He couldn't handle looking into Greg's eyes and seeing pity.

Greg had treated him somewhat normally after what had happened and Nick appreciated it more than he could express. He knew the others were just working out their concerns, but he just wanted it all to go away. That wouldn't happen with everyone staring down his neck and asking him questions all the time.

When he worked a case with Greg he just felt normal again. He didn't want that to change now.

Greg's presence had always been a soothing balm to Nick, even before Walter Gordon. For as long as Greg had been working for the Las Vegas crime lab Nick had found himself wandering down to his lab for no reason. The other man's inane chatter and constant energy had, though Nick would never admit it, been able to pull him out of the dark moods that working this job could sometimes put him in.

While Nick stared on in feigned annoyance, he would let Greg's carefree spirit and sweet smile wash away memories of death and other horrors. When Greg had been promoted and had finally left the lab Nick had found himself more often than he liked wandering down to the DNA lab, only to be disappointed to find whatever replacement was there this week instead of Greg's brown eyes and loud music.

But right now he wished seriously that Greg was very very far away.

Nick could feel it when Greg walked across the kitchen and stopped behind him. Greg's body was warm and too close. Nick knew that Greg could feel the tremors running through him.

"Come here." Greg placed his hands on Nick's shoulders and carefully turned him around and steered him to the dining room table. The first-aide kit that Greg had used the night before sat opened in the center.

"Greg..."

"Give me your hands." Nick obeyed without thought, holding his bandaged hands out to the younger man.

Greg looked up at Nick and Nick flinched, but the only thing he saw in Greg's eyes was that soft, goofy smile that made them sparkle. Greg took Nick's hands and started peeling away the old bandages in silence as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

As if he hadn't rescued Nick from the locked shed. As if he hadn't held him and sung broken songs in Norwegian, trying to sooth him while he cried. As if he hadn't spent the night in vigil beside Nick's bed. As if sitting in Nick's kitchen, bandaging his self-inflicted wounds was... normal.

And Nick couldn't have loved him more for it.

***


"I told Grissom."

Nick didn't respond, just continued flipping through the channels.

"I had to. He was the one that sent me to find you. So... I had to tell him that I did and... I'm sorry."

Nick sighed and turned the television off in frustration. "And?"

"And... well... he was the one that gave us the night off, obviously. And... I think he's going to want to give you more. Time off, that is." Greg tried his hardest not to look as awkward as he felt. He wanted to keep this whole situation casual. Normal. Nick was obviously uncomfortable with the whole thing and Greg didn't want to make it worse.

But he was dying to ask so many questions. Why had he been hiding his anxiety from them for so long? What had happened in the shed? Why hadn't he kicked Greg out yet?

"Nick..." He was going to ask, he really was. But his phone rang. "Sanders." He said, flipping it open and averting his eyes away from Nick who had suddenly looked a hundred times more nervous.

"Where are you?" That was Grissom for you. No hello, no how's it going, just straight to the point.

"Umm... at Nick's." Greg stood up from the lounge chair he had been sitting in and not-so-casually walked to the kitchen and hopefully out of Nick's hearing range.

"How is he?"

Greg glanced back into the living room. Nick had risen as well and was rifling through his CD collection, glancing nervously back at the kitchen. "I'd say he was fine if I hadn't seen what happened yesterday. I mean... God Gris, I think he's been faking it the whole time. He always acted like... like it had never even happened. But yesterday... when I found him he was almost worse than when..."

When he was buried alive. When we had found him with a gun to his head. When he had almost died. Greg still couldn't bring himself to say it, even after all this time.

Grissom didn't say anything for a while, but Greg knew to wait him out. After a while the older man sighed; a heavy, heart-weary sigh. "Okay. Here's what's going to happened."

***


"Get him back on the phone!"

"Nick, come on. Calm down." Greg followed Nick as the other man paced restlessly around his living room, his brow furrowed in anger.

"No. He can't do this! I'm fine! One little relapse and he wants to put me on probation? That's not fair!" Nick growled and kicked at the couch, sent it sliding back a few inches.

"Nick, he's not putting you on probation. It's just a leave of absence."

"A mandatory leave of absence. This is... fuck!" Nick stopped pacing abruptly and sank down onto the couch; Greg stared at him in shock. Nick never swore.

"Nick. Nicky, you need to get help." Greg sat down beside the other man, one hand reaching out to still Nick's shaking knee.

Nick glared at him and stood up, jerking away from his touch. "I'm fine."

"Nick, you're not-"

"I'm fine!" Nearly growling, Nick started to pace again. "I have one damn relapse and everyone thinks I'm going crazy. I'm fine! How would you feel if you got stuck in a burning building, huh? Let's see how well you react."

Greg had had just about enough of Nick's ranting. This wasn't about him, and he said as much. "This isn't about me, Nick!" He shouted, rising from the couch and grabbing Nick by the shoulders. "I dealt with my problems, Nick. I got help. I talked to the doctors and I went to the therapist Grissom sent me to. I dealt with my problems."

"Your hands shook for three months." Nick said, trying to pull away from Greg's insistent presence.

Greg was angry now and he shook Nick hard by the shoulders when the other man refused to look him in the eye. "But they stopped, Nick. Don't you get it? Yeah, I had problems after it happened; I was fucking scared out of my mind of going back into the lab. I woke up at night with the smell of burning plastic in my nose. I dreamt about fires and being burned alive. The only difference is that I got help and now it's over. I took time off-"

"I took time off!"

"A week, Nick!" Greg finally released Nick and began pacing himself. "You were gone for a week. Everyone thought you were crazy for coming back. You need time. You needed to take time back then to take care of yourself. You need to now, or you'll go crazy."

"If I take time off I will go crazy."

He said it so softly that Greg almost didn't hear him. Turning back to the other man Greg saw a vision of heartbreak.

It was as if all the passion and energy had been drained from Nick Stokes. What stood before him was a broken shell, to be so cliché. Nick's eyes had welled up with tears that he was trying valiantly to keep from falling and his body was shaking again.

"I tried, Greg." He said in a hollow voice. "I really did, I tried. But every moment that I was here, alone, all I could think about was... was him, and that box. Waking up with dirt all around me. Wondering if you would find me, if you even knew I was gone. I woke up every night screaming because the nightmares were so real, I... I thought I was back there, trapped."

Nick sniffed, wiping at his face, his chest shuddering with a painful breath. "And I... I couldn't do it. I just couldn't relive it over and over, every single day. I couldn't sit in some stranger's office and tell them about... how it felt to be so helpless. I... I just couldn't, Greg. I couldn't do it."

He sat down on the couch, hanging his head in his hands, defeated. "I came back to work because I could keep myself distracted. If I didn't stop and think about it, if I kept busy enough that the memories were pushed back I... I could exist and pretend that everything was okay. If I just didn't think about it."

Greg sat down and placed a hand carefully on Nick's trembling back. "You can't push it away forever, Nicky. You have to deal with this. You have to deal with your feelings and your memories. Or you'll never really be able to move on."

Nick looked up at Greg. The younger man was sincere, he knew. The concern in his eyes was like a balm to Nick's nerves and the shaking in his body slowly subsided. The ghost of a memory floated across him, but this time it wasn't the suppressing walls of an underground prison. It was the memory of Greg's strong arms wrapped around him, his voice whispering soothing words in his ear.

It had hurt, to cry so hard; it had exhausted him and his body still ached from the uncommon occurrence. But, looking back now, he had to admit that it had felt good to finally release some of the emotions he had been keeping at bay ever since he was rescued.

"I don't... I don't think I can see a therapist. Grissom wants me to; he's been dropping hints for months now. But I... how am I supposed to talk to a complete stranger about this? How would they understand?"

Greg scooted closer to Nick on the couch, their legs pressed together and their shoulders touching. Physical contact had always been a predominant part of their relationship. Nick, being the strong, hard-edged Texan that he was, was never very good with words. And Greg had a bad tendency to make jokes and sarcastic comments at the most inappropriate times.

And so instead of words they had always... touched. A clap on the shoulder to show gratitude. A quick squeeze on the back of the neck to express pride. A hug to convey happiness or, sometimes, concern. It worked for them.

And Nick had no idea how it affected Greg. It never bothered Greg when other people had leaned over his shoulder in the lab; he liked to be watched, to prove his worth under his co-workers watchful eyes. But when it was Nick, leaning in so close, chest pressed up against Greg's back, breath ghosting over his neck... how was he supposed to concentrate on his work when beautiful, smart, sexy Nick was doing that?

How was he supposed to bag evidence when Nick kept walking by and asking how he was doing, rubbing his shoulder or skating a hand down his back? It just wasn't fair.

Greg sighed and placed his arm around Nick's shoulder's, feeling the tightness in the muscles.

"Then talk to me."

Nick turned to look at Greg, his brow furrowed in confusion. "You?"

"Or... or Warrick or Grissom or Cath. Just... someone, Nick." Greg's hand slid gently over Nick's back, soothing the taught muscles. "We're all here for you, Nicky. We didn't give up on you then, and we're not going to now." Nick looked into Greg's eyes and his own filled with tears again.

"You'd do that for me? You'd help me?"

Greg smiled softly, his hand slipping up to Nick's neck, curling protectively around the smooth skin, his thumb just barely brushing Nick's hair. "I'd do anything for you. We all would. Will you let me, us, help you?"

Nick leaned back into the gentle touch on his neck, his dark eyes full of too many memories, and nodded.

***

"You suck at this."

Nick glared at Greg and leaned forward to shut off the game console as the other man stood. "I don't suck. You're just unnaturally talented. I beat Warrick all the time."

"Well then he must really suck."

Nick grunted and tossed an empty soda can at his friend, missing by a mile. Greg just smiled and danced away. "Well, unlike some people in this room I actually have to work today, so I gotta go." He said, bending down to slip on his shoes.

Nick sighed heavily and slumped into the couch, frowning down at the floor.

"Aw, don't look so sad." Greg cooed walking over to Nick and patting him on the head. "I'll be back." Nick swatted at his hands.

"How long did Grissom say I had to be on leave?" Nick asked, wiping his hands over his face, sighing again in frustration.

Greg laughed. "4 weeks. Which means you have 2 and a half left." When Nick groaned Greg smacked him on the head. "You got off easy. He wanted to give you two months but I talked him out of it."

"Aren't you the one that talked him into it in the first place?"

"No. I told him about your little break down. He decided you needed the time off."

"You encouraged it."

"Nick, we've been over this before. You needed time off-"

"To talk about what happened and heal. Yeah, yeah. I know."

"Which you haven't done by the way."

"What, heal? I'm working on it."

Greg glared down at Nick's dark head. "No, you're not." He snarled "Because you haven't talked either. We had an agreement."

Nick sighed again. "I just... I don't..."

"I don't care what you think." Greg picked his back pack up off the floor, swinging it over his shoulder. "You're talking to me tonight... tomorrow, whatever. Whether you like it or not."

Greg started towards the door and Nick jumped up from the couch. "Greg, I don't-"

"Don't make me call Grissom!" Greg yelled as he walked out the door.

"Tattle-tale!" Nick shouted back, a smile spreading over his face; but a cold pit of apprehension settled in his stomach.

***


When Greg returned to Nick's apartment nearly 14 hours later--minus a quick shower before he left the department for Nick's, the entire time had been spent digging through a landfill looking for a murder weapon--Nick was sound asleep on the couch, curled up under a blanket and snoring softly.

Greg sighed and slid gracelessly into the easy-chair next to the couch, pulling the footrest up and settling down for a few hours of rest.

***


Nick smiled down at Greg's sleeping form, rubbing blearily at his own eyes. Greg's whole body was curled up into the chair, his legs tucked underneath him, his back bent over so he could rest his head on his folded arms on the armrest.

Ever since the explosion Greg had had a bad back. Sometimes at work he would complain that it seized up, normally following a hard night in the field. Nick knew that too long in this position would leave him aching the next night. Nick also knew that nothing short of World War Three was going to wake him.

The younger man followed compliantly when Nick pulled him from the chair by the armpits. And immediately wrapped both arms around Nick's neck. Nick smiled, Greg's wild hair tickling his nose and couldn't stop himself from pulling Greg just a little closer.

Greg was still asleep of course; his deep, even breaths and the contented sigh was evidence of that. Nick maneuvered Greg until he was more manageable, then began steering him down the hall towards the bedroom. Once inside Nick tried to get Greg into the bed, but when he tried to lower him to the mattress Greg held on, pulling Nick down with him.

Nick, half sprawled over Greg, groaned and twisted them both until they were somewhat side by side on top of the blankets. In all the shifting Greg had managed to wrap himself around Nick's chest with one long leg twisted over Nick's, keeping him thoroughly pinned.

"Greg, don't do this to me." Nick groaned, one hand resting on the arm around his chest. He breathed out a sigh--the clean scent of Greg surrounded him--and drew the younger man just a little closer.

***


Greg woke suddenly, his heart pounding, something deep inside telling him to wake up, help him, he needs you. Who needs me, Greg wondered for a split-second. Then the screams reached his ears and he reached for Nick.

Greg's hands wrapped around Nick's shoulder's, shaking him as Nick struggled against a barrier that wasn't there. "Nick!" Greg pulled the terrified man into a sitting positioned and something in Nick's head clicked, pulling his mind away from the nightmare.

Nick reached out and grabbed onto Greg, his hands digging into Greg's arms.

Greg held onto Nick as he came down from the fear of the nightmare, whispering soothing words, running gentle hands over his shoulders, his neck, his chest, letting him know he was safe, he wasn't alone. Slowly Nick's breathing evened out and returned to normal, his body stopped shaking and the tears stopped falling from his eyes.

After a minute Nick let go of Greg and leaned back against the headboard, wiping the tears from his face and not meeting Greg's eyes. But Greg just followed him, not releasing his hold, not letting him run away.

Nick sighed and ran his hands over his face. He leaned into Greg's touch, his heart soaring at having the other man's presence. There had been too many nights where he had woken up alone in the darkness, his mind unable to pull away from the memories of the time spent in the glass coffin. Greg's presence beside him was like a beacon of light that grounded him to reality.

Minutes passed in silence; Greg's eyes slid closed again, his body telling him he still needed sleep.

"I didn't think you were coming." Nick's voice slid through Greg's mind, waking him up again. His hands tightened on Nick and he turned to watch him as he continued to talk. "I didn't know if you even knew I was missing. I was just there, alone, in that box. And I didn't know how much time had passed, I didn't know if anyone was even looking for me. I just waited. Waited for an end that I didn't even know was coming."

Greg shifted closer to Nick, resting his head next to Nick's on the wooden headboard. One hand slid from Nick's shoulder, his fingers seeking out the other man's hand and holding on tightly. Nick turned, his forehead not quite touching Greg's; his eyes closed against the nightmare images that filled his head.

"I was so alone." He whispered. "It was so quiet, and so... close. All I could do was think. About everything that I had done, everything I hadn't. All the things I regretted and what I wished... I wished I could say. All I could do was think. And hope. I just kept hoping that you would come. That you would rescue me. But so much time passed, and I just kept thinking, they don't know. They're not coming."

And everything just kept getting worse. The damn light kept going on and it was so hot, and I thought he was watching me. And then when I shot the light the glass started to break and I thought I would be... I thought that the glass would give and cave in. And then the damn ants came and it hurt so fucking much."

But I couldn't make it stop. I couldn't do anything. I just waited and waited. But you didn't come. It was so long and you didn't come and I..."

By now tears were streaming from beneath Nick's closed eyes. His chest shook with his breaths and his hand tightened around Greg's. Greg wanted to pull him into his arms and quiet him, hide him away from the pain and the memories. But this was what Nick needed. He had to get all this out. This was why Greg was there; to listen, not to comfort, not to protect. So he listened, even though it broke his heart.

"I didn't want to die. I didn't want that to be the end, I... but even more I... I didn't want to die on his terms. I didn't want him to win. But he would have. No matter what happened, he would have won. I didn't think you were coming and... and it hurt so much and it had been so long and... I couldn't take it. I just couldn't take it. It hurt so much."

Greg's hand slid from Nick's shoulder and up, to carefully cup his jaw, his thumb gently wiping away the tears. Nick leaned into the touch but didn't stop talking. He knew that if he did he'd never finish. And he had to finish. He had to get this out before it destroyed him inside.

"I was so scared. I didn't want to die, but I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't just... just wait, anymore. I couldn't wait when you weren't even coming. I didn't want to die, but I didn't think you were coming. It hurt so much and... I didn't... I didn't think you were coming."

"But we came, Nicky." Greg said, his hands tightening on Nick's hand, his jaw. He leaned forward so that their foreheads touched, grounding Nick, letting him know he wasn't alone. "We came for you. We knew you were gone and we tried so hard to find you. And we did. We found you and now you're here and you're safe. No one can hurt you anymore. He can't hurt you anymore."

"I was so afraid you wouldn't come."

"But we did come."

"Yeah. Yeah, you did come." Nick repeated. The hand that wasn't clutching Greg's came up and slid around Greg's neck, pulling him just a little closer, needing him just a little closer. "You came." Nick whispered. Then his breathing evened out and his grasp loosened and he slept.

Greg pulled Nick down until he was resting on his shoulder, gently kissing the top of his head and following him into sleep. Neither of them woke again that night.

***


A week. That's all Nick had left. Then he would return to the lab and the job that had nearly killed him and all the stares of well meaning people that just made him want to scream.

It had been nice, these last few weeks with Greg. The others had all stopped by once or twice during his time off, but Greg had come over every single day to talk to him and watch TV with him and remind him again and again that he was safe now. And over the last week and half Greg hadn't even left to sleep in his own home at night.

He would come straight to Nick's from work and stay there through the day, eating, sleeping, talking, until he had to go home to change for work. Ever since Nick had had the nightmare and Greg had been there to comfort him and talk him through it they had gone through a ritual of sorts when it came to going to bed.

They would stay up for as long as they could, talking and doing a lot of nothing, until one of them fell asleep. Then that person would be woken--or lifted and steered--and brought back to Nick's bedroom where they would spend the rest of the night, sleeping next to each other and taking comfort in the other person's presence.

And now Nick only had a week until all that went away and everything returned to normal. Normal, living here in his too big apartment all by himself. Normal, spending his nights working himself to exhaustion and his days at home alone. Alone with his thoughts and memories. Alone, without Greg.

Greg thought that Nick was doing better. He had been able to talk regularly about Walter Gordon and what had happened to him since first opening up. He had had three more nightmares, but each time Greg had been there to soothe him, and Nick had told him, honestly, that they were getting better, less terrifying.

But Nick knew deep down that as soon as his time was up, as soon as he went back to the lab, it would all be the same. Everything would go back to the way it was before. With everyone at the lab tip-toeing around 'the incident' and him coming home to an empty house.

But it wasn't the lab, it wasn't his job that would take away all the progress he had made. It was loosing Greg. At first Nick thought that it was just the fact that he wasn't alone that made him want Greg around as much as he was. But then this morning Greg had stayed late at work, working a hard case with Catherine, and Warrick had come over instead, informing Nick that Greg had made him promise to 'keep Nick occupied until he got off'.

And it had been nice, having Warrick over. It was nice to talk with his friend about the big game and about Warrick's wife; not so nice to talk about Nick's long-standing lack of a girlfriend. But then he had fallen asleep on the couch and when he woke when the sun was setting he was alone, a hastily scrawled note from Warrick on the coffee table informing him that he had left, and had found that he was upset. Not that he was alone, but that Greg had not been there to bring him to bed.

And Nick was left with the sinking feeling that what he hated the most about going back wasn't that he was going back to the sympathetic looks or hastily ended conversations he still walked into, but that he would be loosing Greg.

And he only had a week. One short week to figure out just exactly what he was going to do with that realization.

***


Greg hadn't seen Nick in three days. The murder case he had been working on with Catherine had pulled them into a triple shift, then he had gone home to crash in his own bed--which had seemed strangely foreign to him--for nearly 16 hours.

He slid carefully into Nick's apartment, pocketing the key Nick had given him. He expected to find Nick sleeping; it was after all in the middle of their 'night'. What he found was a morose man, staring out a wide open window that faced the desert.

"Nick? Are you alright?" Nick turned slowly and Greg's concern grew when he saw the dark circles under his eyes. "Nick?" He asked again, walking over to the other man, his hands instinctively reaching out to comfort Nick.

But Nick pulled away from his touch, standing quickly and walking over to the couch.

"Nick?" Greg followed his friend, not knowing what else to do. When he sat down he made sure he kept his distance; something he hadn't done in what seemed like forever. "Nick, what happened?"

Nick took in a deep breath, letting it out shakily. "I had another nightmare." He said, his voice quiet, defeated.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Greg slid closer to Nick and laid a careful hand on his shoulder, ignoring the flinch it drew from Nick. He was always a little skittish after his nightmares.

"And one the night before."

"Oh. I... the case with Catherine-"

"I know."

Nick rose from the couch and started pacing, his forehead creased in distress. "This isn't right." He said, casting a look at Greg that the younger man didn't understand. "I... I can't do this. I can't... it's not going to work."

"Nick, I know you're worried about going back, but if you need more time Grissom will-"

"It's not about going back." Nick sighed in frustration and gracelessly sank onto the couch. But he quickly got back up again, pacing once more, too full of turmoil to hold still. "No, it is about going back but I... It's not... It's not about going back, it's not about the lab and the job, I don't think it's even about Walter Gordon anymore, Greg, it's... it's about losing this. Losing... everything."

This was not what Nick had intended. He had intended to tell Greg that he had to leave. That they had to separate from each other now or Nick wouldn't be able to handle it in the end. He thought that if Greg just left, now, it would all be okay. But then he opened his mouth and what came out was not what he intended.

"What do you mean 'this'? Us? Me?" Greg stood and walked over to where Nick was standing, nervously shifting from foot to foot. Nick had never been a twitchy man, unlike Greg. Even at his most agitated, his most angry of frustrated or confused, he always went still, contemplative. This nervous movement worried Greg.

"Nick..." Greg said, reaching out to the other man, running a gentle hand up his arm to his shoulder, both to comfort and to draw him closer.

"Stop it! Stop it, I can't do this!" Nick pulled roughly away from Greg, pushing him back a step and retreating to the far side of the room.

"Nick-"

"Don't you get it? It's all because of you." Nick sank down onto the window sill, turning dark, defeated eyes towards Greg. "When I wake up screaming because of these damn nightmares it just makes it worse that you're not there. Not that I'm alone, not that someone isn't there to talk me through it. But that you're not there. Greg. Two weeks; that's all it's been since you started sleeping with me. Just two weeks. And when I wake up in the middle of the night I reach for you."

The tears that had filled Nick's eyes spilled over, sliding down his cheeks to meet under his chin; he didn't bother wiping them away. His body seemed to follow their path and he carefully fell to the floor, his arms automatically wrapping around himself, protecting himself from danger. Only this time, he was afraid that the danger came from inside.

"I don't think I can do this." He whispered.

Greg slowly walked over to where he sat, kneeling beside him, aching to touch him. "You don't think... that you can go back? To the way things were. Or... you don't think you can want to be with me?"

Nick looked up at Greg, shocked. How could Greg understand what he was trying to say? He wasn't sure he understood himself. He also wasn't sure which answer was right.

"I don't think I'm ready for this." He said, his eyes pleading with Greg to make the right decision from that statement. After all, Greg's answer could very well determine the rest of Nick's life.

"We... We can take it slow." Greg said, his voice sure, his eyes pleading. Nick sighed, his body relaxing as relief flooded over him. Greg saw this and continued. "I mean, I know this must all be pretty weird for you but... I'm willing to do whatever it takes, Nick. I..."

Greg leaned in towards Nick, closing the small distance between them. Nick's arms uncurled from around his stomach, reaching out for Greg as the other man's lips carefully met his.

It wasn't a very spectacular kiss. There was no heat, no passion. Just a soft meeting of lips full of warmth and the promise of safety. When Greg started to pull back, Nick reach up and wrapped his hand around Greg's neck, threading his fingers through the long hair, keeping him in place. Greg smiled and slid a little closer to Nick on the floor, until their bodies were touching from hip to shoulder, their foreheads pressed firmly together.

"We'll go slow?" Nick asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

Greg nodded, sitting back just a little so that he could look into Nick's dark eyes. "As slow as you need."

"Greg-"

Greg leaned forward and kissed Nick, cutting off whatever he was going to say. "I've wanted this for a long time, Nick." He assured the other man, one hand coming up to wipe away the tear tracks that had dried on Nick's face.

Nick sighed and leaned into the gentle touch, a contented smile spread over his face.

***


Later that night they lay close together in Nick's bed. One of Nick's hands rested lightly on Greg's hip, which was gracefully outlined in a pair of Nick's pajama bottoms.

They had gone to bed properly this time; changing their clothes and getting in together, both fully awake and lacking the pretense of the past two weeks. Nick's hand tightened on Greg's hip and every now and then one of Greg's hands would flutter out and brush across Nick's face or chest.

There had been no hint of sex as they had gotten ready for bed. Greg was ready for it, had been ready for it for longer than he cared to remember, but he knew that Nick wasn't. So he was content to simply be with Nick, knowing that in the morning he would be there still.

Both men were just about to drift off to sleep when a sudden thought occurred to Greg. He sat up suddenly and stared down at Nick, confusion written across his face as he tried not to panic. "Do you even like men?" He asked, his eyes wide.

Nick stared up at him for a moment. Then he laughed, pulling the other man back down to the bed, and kissed him until any doubts were washed away.

***

Something was wrong. Greg walked through the halls of the lab, peering around each corner, through every glass wall. No one was here. The lab was completely deserted.

He walked into room after room looking for Grissom, Sarah, Nick, anyone. Inside one room the only thing he found was a desk with a computer on top. On the screen there was a message. You can only watch.

Greg shook himself as if he had just woken up. Of course. There was no one here because everyone was out looking for Nick. Nick, who had been kidnapped and buried alive and was still lost. But wasn't Sarah supposed to be watching the computer? They had all taken a turn over the past excruciating hours, where was she?

Greg sat down at the desk and hit the button. Nick's still figure came up on the screen, surrounded in a green glow, his whole body shaking with fear and pain. His hands clenched and unclenched on the smooth surface of the box he was imprisoned in.

Greg felt so helpless. He couldn't do anything. Just watch and hope that Nick didn't die. 'Please don't die.' Greg begged, his fingers gently touching the computer screen. 'Please don't leave me.'

He wanted to get back out on the case, wanted to help track down the clues that would save Nick. He had been so sure that he had found him before. But it was just a damn dog.

But Greg couldn't pull away from the screen. He couldn't turn away from Nick, lost and alone and suffering so much. The frustration and helplessness grew each passing moment; with every shuddering breath Nick took, every time his body twitched in pain.

Why couldn't they find him? Where was he?

Something was wrong here. Some message was trying to get through to Greg, tell him something important. But every time he reached for the nagging thought it flitted away, lost.

The whole lab was deathly silent, as if it too knew that Nick was lost. Dying.

Suddenly Nick went still and Greg's heart stopped. "No. No no no. Nick!" Greg's scream seemed to echo in the deserted hallways of the lab.

Then Nick's head turned, his dark eyes staring directly into the camera. "It's too late." He said, his voice ringing through the room.

Greg gasped and stumbled back, his eyes wide. "Nick?"

"It's too late, Greg." Nick said again, tears running down his face. "You didn't come for me. Why didn't you come, Greg? I've waited so long."

"We're looking, Nicky. We're trying. Please, please just hold on. We're coming."

Nick shook his head, an almost serene smile pulling up his cracked lips. "It's too late." Nick brought the gun to his head, placing it beneath his chin where it was sure to kill him.

"Nick, no!"

"You should have come for me, Greg. I waited so long. But now it's too late." The gunshot echoed through the room, reverberating off the glass walls and filling Greg like an empty bottle. He screamed.

***


"Greg! Greg, wake up! Greg!" There was someone pulling at his shoulder, shaking him, yelling in his ear.

Greg gasped as he sat up, his throat hoarse, his whole body shaking. He turned to find the source of his waking and looked into Nick's dark, worried eyes. A strangled sob left his abused throat and he launched himself into Nick's arms, holding on to him as if their lives depended on it.

"Hey, hey. Greg, it's alright." Nick said softly, his hands running carefully over Greg's back, pulling him just a little closer. "It's alright, Greggo, it was just a dream."

Greg took in a few deep, shuddering breaths. He laid his head down on Nick's shoulder and wiped at the tears that were running down his face.

"You're okay." Nick said, kissing the top of Greg's head. "I'm here. You're okay."

Greg sniffed and nodded, consciously loosening his hold on Nick.

"Well this is different." Nick said, smiling softly as he leaned back against the headboard, pulling Greg with him. "Me comforting you after a nightmare."

Greg tried to laugh but it came out as more of a strangled whine and Nick pulled him closer, reaching down to grab the blanket and settle it over them. "Was it about the explosion?" Nick asked.

Greg tightened his grip on Nick's waist and nodded.

***


Greg never went back to sleep. When the alarm went off he carefully slid from the bed, leaving Nick to wake up in his own time, and got ready for work. He knew Nick wanted to talk about the nightmare. After all Nick was right, he never had nightmares. Even the ones about the explosion had ended some time ago.

But Greg wasn't ready to talk. In fact, he was pretty sure he never wanted to talk about this particular nightmare. He didn't want to think about the nightmare. About what had happened, or what Nick had said.

Or why he had dreamed it in the first place.

Greg had heard enough psycho-babble over his life--from his psychologist next door neighbor who had baby-sat him up until he was 13, to the shrink he had seen after the explosion--to know that dreams always meant something.

Dreaming, he had been informed, was your mind's subconscious way of dealing with things your waking self couldn't, or wouldn't, understand. Your mind interpreted your thoughts and created the dreams to help you process those things.

And this dream... well it was pretty obvious. Greg was terrified of losing Nick. Not to death, to suicide, no, that had never been a concern. Not since they had pulled Nick from the box; he was too strong for that.

But Greg had spent every day of the past four months, waking up beside Nick, paralyzed by the fear that Nick would realize that day that he didn't need Greg any more and leave.

Maybe he was too late, Greg thought as he brushed his teeth, ignoring Nick's presence in the shower beside him. Maybe he had lost the time where a relationship, a permanent relationship, with Nick was possible. He had somehow found himself in a relationship based on need and fear. Nick's fear of being alone, and Greg's need to be with Nick.

Because even though Nick had said, that day when he had confessed his feelings to Greg, that he wanted to be with Greg, there was something in the younger man that just couldn't believe it was true.

Greg loved Nick. Had loved him for so long he could no longer imagine loving anyone else. And he knew that he was going to loose him.

***


Sara watched Nick and Greg covertly from behind her microscope. There had been something wrong with them lately. Greg had become so quiet. And this was worse than his 'serious phase', this was something more. Over the past few weeks he had become withdrawn and depressed.

And Nick wasn't helping at all. The two of them had become very close over the past few months. After Nick's breakdown, which no one talked about, he and Greg had practically been attached at the hip. Greg had appointed himself Nick's body guard. Or lap dog, Sara wasn't sure which.

And now she was watching Greg slowly break down himself. He wandered around as if he had lost his best friend.

'Maybe he has.' Sara thought. As she watched, the conversation Nick and Greg had been having about their case slowly petered off and Nick's attention was diverted elsewhere.

Greg stared at him for several moments as if he was waiting for something, a sadness deepening in his eyes. He whispered a few soft words that Sarah couldn't here and then left the lab. Nick glanced up at him as he walked away, a look of confusion molding the worry lines on his forehead. But he said nothing, simply went back to the evidence on the counter and let Greg walk away.

Sara decided that she had had enough of watching. She stood and was about to confront Nick but her pager beeped at her. Grissom's number flashed across the LCD and she hesitated. But in the end Grissom won out and she promised herself she would talk to Nick later.

***


"Nick, I want to talk to you about Greg." Sara ran-stepped the few feet to Nick's side as he made his way toward the DNA lab.

"What about him?" Nick asked, not looking up at her, too engrossed in the information on the papers in his hands.

"Well, he's been acting kind of strange lately." Nick glanced up at Sara, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Well, for Greg I mean." Sara clarified, biting back a sharp remark.

"How so?"

"He's just... been so quiet. I mean, more than his whole 'I'm-a-CSI-now-so-I-want-everyone-to-take-me-seriously' quiet. This is... worse. This is a sad kind of quiet."

Nick finally stopped walking and turned to look at her. He could see in her eyes that she was genuinely concerned about Greg and that frustrated him. Because so was he. He didn't know the answer to her question.

Greg had been fine for the last few months. He had even gotten over his 'serious' stage somewhat and had once again been filling all their lives with his strange sense of style and worse sense of music. Nick had been overjoyed to walk into the lab several times recently to the blaring sounds of Greg's horrible rock music while the young CSI had danced around like no one could see him.

But Sara was right. Over the past few weeks Greg had reverted back to his quietness and yes, even gone further, worrying them all. But that didn't mean Nick knew why it had happened.

When he realized something was wrong with Greg he had done what every good boyfriend would do and waited patiently for Greg to explain himself, because Nick sure as hell wasn't a mind reader. And he may be gay but damn it he was still a man and therefore was no good at the whole 'let's-talk-about-our-relationship' conversation.

But Greg had said nothing and Nick, like Sara, had become more and more worried. "Why do you think I would know anyway?" Nick asked, walking once again toward DNA.

Sara threw him one of her most potent 'don't-try-that-with-me' stares which he ignored. "Because the two of you have practically been living out of each others shoes over the past few months."

If Sarah noticed the slight falter in Nick's step she didn't mention it. Okay, so they hadn't exactly been subtle. There had been no PDA's, but Greg had been living at his apartment for over four months now. Surely someone was bound to notice something. They were CSI's after all.

But did they know how deep it went? Did they know that he and Greg were more than just friends? That they were now in a relationship?

Though it seemed lately that Greg didn't actually want to be in that relationship. He was so quiet, so withdrawn from Nick. Most of their time spent together they were either sleeping or having sex. They didn't talk. They didn't do anything. They were just there, together.

Nick had started to wonder lately if maybe Greg had never really wanted to be with Nick at all. Sure, in the beginning he had said that he wanted it, had even confessed to having wanted it for years, but was that just to make Nick feel better?

For all his cockiness and arrogance, Greg was one of the sweetest, most self-sacrificing people Nick knew. Maybe this whole thing was just because Greg knew that Nick needed him. Maybe Greg was just waiting for a time when Nick wasn't such a mess and he felt like he could move on.

That was it. That's what all of this was about. Greg wanted to leave; he just didn't know how to say it. And that pissed Nick off. Yes he was a mess, but he didn't want the other man to be there because he thought he had to be. He didn't want him to stick around out of pity or some sort of obligation.

If he didn't want to be there, well he could just leave for all Nick cared. Go back to his apartment and his own life and his perfect girls with the perfect DNA. Nick would be just fine without him. He would.

"Nick?"

"I don't know what's wrong with him, Sara." Nick ground out, not turning to look at her for fear she would see the lie in his eyes. "Why don't you go ask him? And do me a favor. If he tells you anything, inform me too."

Nick stalked through the doors of the DNA lab, leaving Sara more confused than when she had first stopped him.

***


Greg walked wearily through Nick's front door. His face was pale and drawn; his kit was a heavy weight in his left hand. He wanted nothing more than a long shower and an even longer night of sleep.

When he walked into the living room he knew that neither of those things were going to happen. Nick sat at the window, staring resolutely out into the desert. Greg sighed and set his kit on the floor next to Nick's and slowly walked over to his lover.

"Nightmare?" He asked as his arms slid around Nick's chest, pulling him back until they were pressed tightly together.

Nick leaned back, letting his head rest briefly on Greg's shoulder, and sighed. "No," he said quietly. "I never slept."

Suddenly he was pulling away from Greg and the younger man was left with a cold feeling. "We need to talk." Nick said, and Greg's heart stopped beating.

"About what?"

Nick glanced back at Greg but he couldn't meet his eyes. He didn't want to see the truth in them. "I... I think you should leave."

Greg didn't want to believe it. He had always known that he would have to leave Nick's eventually. He just hadn't expected it to be so sudden. Or executed so coldly.

After everything Greg had done for him--talked him through his problems, held his nightmares at bay, soothed him when he cried--and now Nick was tossing him out the door like he meant nothing. Like their relationship--even their friendship, because how were they supposed to go back after this?--meant nothing.

"You asshole." Greg hissed, his fists clenching, his body suddenly tense.

"What?" Nick took a step back, away from Greg, confusion evident on his face. That was not the reaction he was expecting.

"You. Asshole." Greg repeated. "How can you just say that? After everything we've been through, how can you just throw it all away like-like none of it meant anything! I thought... god, I thought... I don't know what I thought!"

Greg started muttering to himself, moving restlessly, his hands clenching and unclenching as he began pacing the room. Suddenly he spun around to face Nick again, the look on his face one of furious anger. "You know, I thought you were a better guy than that. I trusted you! I thought you cared about me, at least as a friend. But now... God. How can you just throw me out!"

And now it was Nick's turn to be angry. How dare Greg question his feelings? Didn't he know how much Nick needed him? And yet here he was offering Greg his freedom and the other man was throwing it back in his face.

"Throw you out? You're the one that wants to leave!"

"What?" Suddenly the tables had turned. Nick was angry and Greg was confused, all in a matter of seconds. "Who said I wanted to leave?"

"You did!" Nick shouted. "You've been wandering around for weeks now, moping and brooding. If you didn't want to be here any more you should have just told me. I'd rather have you leave me, than have you stay because you think you have to!"

Greg didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry. "Okay, I think somewhere along the line you've hit your head and scrambled something, because you are so far off it's scary."

"What?"

This was getting frustratingly repetitive. "I don't want to leave, you big idiot. Why would I want to leave?"

Nick shifted nervously, his hands coming up to run through his hair. Had he just screwed everything up? "Well, I know that you said, in the beginning, but... you've just been so quiet lately. I thought... I thought it was because you wanted to leave, but you just didn't know how to tell me."

Greg let out a sigh, his mouth coming up in a wry smile. "You really are an idiot," he said. "Why would I want to leave you, Nick? You're the best thing that's happened to me since... well, since I made CSI."

Nick smiled, despite his continuing inner turmoil. Every good moment in Greg's life was measured against the moment he learned that he passed his final proficiency test.

"Nick, I've spent the past few weeks dreading... well, dreading this." Greg took a few hesitant steps toward Nick, his dark eyes suspiciously bright. "I keep wondering when... when you're finally going to realize that you don't need me any more and..." He laughed, wiping at his eyes. "And make me leave."

"Why would I want you to leave?" This whole situation was starting to feel slightly ridiculous.

Greg shrugged and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "You're not going to need me forever."

"Greg, I don't need you." Greg's resultant look was priceless. Nick laughed and moved closer to Greg, until they were almost touching. Nick's booted toe nudged Greg's dirty sneakers. "I don't need you to hold me after my nightmares. I don't need you to listen to me ramble about all of my issues. I don't need you to sing to me and kiss away my tears. You saw to that."

Nick grabbed Greg's arm and pulled him back when he turned away. "But that doesn't mean I don't want you too."

Greg looked up at Nick from beneath his impossible eye-lashes. "Why would you want me?" For all of his cockiness Greg was sweetly self-conscious.

"If you have to ask, I'll never be able to explain it, Greggo." Nick removed whatever distance was still between them, his arms wrapping around Greg's waist.

"I need to know this is real, Nick." Greg said, his hands coming up to rest on Nick's elbows. "I waited so long and ... I need to know this is real. That it's not just some sort of therapy or experiment or... or something."

"It's as real as you want it to be, babe." Nick leaned forward and kissed Greg on the forehead, on his gently closed eyes. "I'm here as long as you want me."

"Forever?" Greg asked hopefully.

Nick chuckled and squeezed Greg's waist until the other man giggled and squirmed away. "We're going to have to discuss 'forever'. But I do want you to move in."

Greg looked around the apartment like he had never seen it before, then looked pointedly back at Nick. This caused another laugh. "I mean for real." Nick clarified. "You haven't spent more than 10 minutes at a time in your apartment for the last 4 months. It's stupid for you to keep paying rent there. Move in here for good. I'll even give you your own section of the closet."

It was Greg's turn to laugh now. "Nicky, if you expect me to move in we're going to have to build a whole new closet."

Nick groaned and flopped dramatically onto the couch. Greg laughed and followed him down, pinning him to the couch and kissing him soundly before he could change his mind. After a minute both men grew serious again and Nick looked into Greg's eyes. He gently brushed away a lock of bleach blonde hair, his thumb lingering on Greg's cheek.

Nick took a deep breath and closed his eyes; Greg kissed the corner of his mouth and he smiled. "I love you." Nick whispered across the other man's lips. His eyes opened and locked with Greg's. "I love you," he said again.

Greg smiled and kissed Nick again. His dark eyes filled with tears as his lower lip disappeared between his teeth, and he laughed. Those three words were the sweetest sound he had ever heard. "I love you too." He choked out, his smile so big it threatened to break. His hands came up to cup Nick's face and he kissed him over and over again, covering every inch of his face. "God, I love you so much."

After a minute Nick stopped the frantic kisses, laughing softly at the whine it produced from Greg. "We're going to have to discuss this lack if communication thing we have."

Greg nodded encouragingly, then stood and pulled Nick from the couch. "Yes," he said, dragging Nick down the hallway to their bedroom. "But not until after you fuck me senseless."

Nick laughed as he was pushed onto the bed. 'What have I gotten myself in to?' He wondered. But then Greg started undoing the buttons of his shirt with his tongue and Nick stopped thinking altogether.

END

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