Title: What is Love Anyways?
By: Rhardin
Summary: Greg trys to find out what love is.
beta'd by The sweet and lovely Crystal and Donna
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Genres: romance, drama
Rating: G
Warnings: character death

What is love anyway? I guess it's when two people have feelings for each other. Two people meet and they go on a date, get to know each other and something happens. You just get this feeling and you just know.

My love is Nick. I don't know what I did to get a guy like him. But I count my blessings every day we are together.

Hmm, love is great. I love being in love with Nick. When you are in love nothing beats the things you do for each other. Like he always makes sure the coffee timer is set so I have a hot pot of coffee waiting for me when we wake up. I'm sure he does it more for himself. I'm not a morning person and it's takes me a while to wake up.

I always get a paper for him, he always keeps the fridge stocked with ice cream, things like that.

Or I will get him a hot bath knowing he's had a very hard case to help him relax. I have to admit I get a lot out of this as well.

Walking the in park holding hands not caring who is looking at us. Sneaking into the men's restroom for a kiss or maybe something else when Gil or Cath has left on a case.

He puts magazines on my pillow and folds down the pages he thinks I will enjoy.

I put tens of thousands of post it notes hidden everywhere telling him Have a great day, I miss you, I love you. I buy him books that I know he enjoys reading.

He never makes fun of my needing 3 or 7 different things for my hair.

He never makes fun of my leather pants and just shakes his head when I put on eyeliner.

I never make fun of his clothes and that they are 80% black.

He sends me text messages or downloads a new song on my ipod that he thinks I will like it, he should know, he‘s never picked one I didn‘t enjoy…

We both tivo each other's favorite shows if the other one's not going to be home.

Cuddling on the couch, watching some TV. He always plays with my hair. It's the only way I can fall asleep now.

Waking up finding out that you can't move because 75% of his body is on top of you.

Oh and let's not forget the sex and the blowjobs. Wow, it's one of our favorite things. We have all kinds of sex too. There is hot sex, sweet sex (I enjoy this the most, don't tell anyone) where there is lots of kissing, touching and holding, quickie sex (mostly at the lab or in the car, I mean when you're with a guy like Nick sometimes you can't help it and have to do it right away.), shower sex, this is Nick's favorite. So yeah that part is great.

Love isn't perfect. We had our share of fights. But after a while you learn what to say and what not to say. You learn when you are wrong and that it really is your fault. You also learn when to let things go. Is it really worth all that? No, not really. Life's too short. We had one rule, never go to bed mad at each other and the last thing we always said to each other was I love you. We never broke that rule either. Even if it took us staying up to 5am talking things out. But you know the make up sex was great!

It's funny when you're in love you do things you never thought you would do. I for one HATE country music but I listen to it. Only when we are in his car. He hates loud punk music but he listens to it only when we are in my car. We flip a coin now, we used to race to the cars but he slipped and hurt his wrist and I fell and twisted my ankle. It's a lot less painful that way. And we both agree not to trash each other's music. Life is too short to fight over a CD. Plus, he doesn't know it but his stupid music is growing on me and now I have a few of his CDs in my car.

I hate to do the dishes, yes we have a dishwasher, he just doesn't understand why I hate it so much. I hate the smell of old food sitting in the sink. I know it wouldn't smell if I did the dishes three days ago like he asked me to. And NO he doesn't do it me. And yes I will put 3 dirty dishes with a load of clean ones and run it again but I do it.

He hates to do laundry, you would think with two guys there wouldn't that much clothes to wash, but you know I have my work clothes, my at home clothes, my shopping clothes, my sleep clothes my I don't feel good clothes, and my going out for a hot date with him clothes. I've been known to change my clothes, hmm, five times in one day. He on the other hand has his work clothes and not work clothes. I was just glad he had a not work pile. Even though I can't tell them apart. But he does that too.

I hate to cook, I'm no good at it. I get bored waiting for the timer to go off, or the water to boil, or for the stupid oven to heat up all the way. It's much easier and fast to order out. He hates to eat out. See I could go on and on here but I think you get the point.

The next step in our life led us to adopting a baby boy. Patrick was his name but I changed it to Nick.

So being in love is the best. It's also the hardest thing I ever had to do.

Sitting there with him, holding his hand when we found a lump, waiting for the doctor to tell us, I'm sorry it is cancer. I hold him while he cries and tries to come to terms with what the doctor says.

Being there with him when he tells the team about the cancer and that he's going to keep working when and if he can.

Being there when he tells his parents, watching his mother fall apart. He holds her in his arms, I can barely understand her. But I know she's saying it's not fair, it's my baby boy. And his father trying to be strong for him. He pulls me in the other room and tells me to take care of his boy, give him the strength he needs to beat this. He tells me I have to be the strong one. I know he's right. So I do my best.

Holding him after a treatment when he's in so much pain and he's barfing up what little food he's eaten. Wrapping a blanket around him because he's freezing cold then pulling it off because he's on fire.

Running to the store to get bottled water, medication that doesn't seem to help and anything he asks me for.

Holding him for hours after the doctor tells him it's spreading too fast and he's not sure they can stop it.

Love is watching the love of your life's body waste away to nothing. Watching his hair fall out and the life disappear from his eyes.

Love is worrying how you're going to take care of a small child and him.

Love is carrying him to the shower because he was too weak to make it to the rest room. Giving him a hot bath.

Love is taking a wet rag and running it over his forehead to help with the pain.

Love is knowing you can't do both and letting his sister take your child while you try to fight.

Love is going almost two years without the sex that we both enjoyed so much so long ago and never letting him know you much you miss it.

Love is never letting him see me cry. I only do that when I'm alone.

Love is never letting him know how much you miss seeing the baby and emails and weekend visits just aren't cutting it anymore.

Love is never letting him know that you're so afraid of losing him and I wonder how I will get along without him. What kind of father I will be.

Love is giving up Friday nights with the guys to be with him. Even when he tells you to go out and have some fun.

Love is holding him when the doctor says. Hmm that's not working like he hoped let's try this. It may make you sicker. Sicker I don't see how he can get much sicker. But he does.

Love is helping him lift the spoon to his mouth because he's too weak to do it. Praying that he doesn't choke on it. Love is hating myself for praying that he does.

Love is asking his sister to keep the baby a bit longer.

Love is praying asking God to give the cancer to me so he can get better.

Love is giving him shots to help with the pain. He can't swallow pills now.

Love is learning how to change an IV bag. He can't eat anymore.

Love is understanding when he tells me that he's so tired and he doesn't want to do this anymore. That's he's given up.

Love is telling him he's not being selfish and that you understand.

Love is know what he means when he says the ocean.

Love is looking him in the eyes telling him that I will be ok without him.

Love is knowing when to let go.

Love is calling his parents and telling them the news that their baby is going to die. Not in a few years, or months but in a few weeks or days.

Love is watching a 3-year-old try to say goodbye to his daddy. And watching a father try to find the strength to say goodbye to his son. Watching his body let him down.

He doesn't seem to understand. He sitting next to him holding his hand and telling him about his new teacher. I'm not sure Nick was even awake to hear him.

Love is telling everyone at work. They don't understand love. They didn't agree. They yell at me, demanding I change Nick's mind. They want Nick to keep fighting. But they don't understand, you can't fight when there is nothing left to fight with.

Love is carrying him to the car and driving. I drive for hours. The tears come and go. He's sound asleep. I can't remember the last time he was awake. I have his hand in mine and sometimes he squeezes it just to let me know he's ok.

Love is talking about the past. The good old days. All the things that we've overcome.

Love is helping him down to the water. He's awake now. I hold him as the wake breaks over our feet. I tell him that I will be ok. That I don't hate him.

Love is him telling me he's so sorry

Love is me telling him he has nothing to be sorry for.

Love is staring into each other's eyes. Laying in the sanding listening.

We stay there until he's shaking. I know he's cold.

Love is carrying him inside and lying him on a bed. I open the window. Letting the sun and fresh ocean air pour in.

Love is holding him all day and not getting up when he wets the bed.

Love is not even noticing the waves are perfect for surfing.

Love is playing all his CD's over and over.

Love is understanding when he opens his eyes and says help me.

Love is knowing how much morphine to give him. Just enough so he'll fall asleep and never wake up.

Love is giving him one last kiss.

Love is sitting next to him watching, waiting.

Love is watching his chest rise and fall slowly.

Love is watching his chest stop.

Love is picking up his lifeless body and giving him one last kiss.

"I love you."

Love is watching my tears run down his face.

Love is laying with him the rest of the night.

Love is gone.

I don't talk much at the funeral.

I don't leave his side.

I want to jump in after him once they lay him to rest.

I sat on the dirt. I can't cry. I just stare.

They finally make me go home.

Love is going home and taking our son home.

Love is her understanding when I take him home.

Love is laying him in bed and covering him up.

Love is placing a kiss on his forehead.

Love is lying in bed crying alone. I miss him. I want him back. I need him back.

Love is waking up with a small child next to you.

Hmm maybe love isn't gone.

Love was a new beginning after all.