Title: At Close Range
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Nick Stokes
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Rating: R
Author's Note: Post-ep for the S11 CSI: Vegas episode "Cello and Goodbye," and a sequel to the Greg/Nick fic "Can't Stop Loving You". Completely unrelated to the other Greg/Nick series that I write.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders or Nick Stokes, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***


"I hate getting called in to scenes like this," Nick sighed as he parked the Denali near the newest crime scene that he and Greg had been called to. "It'll be a mess. Catherine said there were eight bodies. The shooter tried to take everybody out."

Greg nodded, his own sigh mirroring Nick's. "I doubt we're going to get this one done in a hurry. Catherine's already here, isn't she? She wouldn't have called in two more of us if this wasn't a big thing. I'm betting we'll be hee all day. Another double shift."

"We might as well get to work," Nick told him, slamming the door and going to the back to get their kits. He handed Greg one silently, wishing that they didn't have to be here, working together; there was still so much tension between them that no one else seemed to sense.

But he had to make the best of it, he told himself as the two of them headed towards the crime scene. He had to get used to working with Greg and considering him to be nothing more than a colleague and a friend, not an ex-lover who he still loved.

It only took them a few seconds to move through the small crowd that had gathered around the crime scene tape, and to pass by the police who were guarding it. Nick gasped when he saw what they were here to process; it was one of the worst scenes he'd ever viewed.

He had no idea how many people had been shot, but it looked like a lot. From where he was standing outside of the small café, he could count four bodies, and he knew that there were more inside. It hadn't just been a robbery. It had been a bloodbath.

Catherine was already working on processing the bodies outside; she nodded at them, indicating that they were needed inside. Nick sighed again; he'd been afraid of that. He and Greg would probably have to deal with the messier bodies, the ones that had been shot at close range.

The café was dim inside; Nick blinked as he stepped into the room. It was taking a few moments for his eyes to adjust; he was sure that Greg's were the same way. Once they got used to the change from the bright light outside, they could get to work.

He heard a choking gasp from his right side; Greg had stopped dead in his tracks, and was looking down at one of the bodies sprawled on the floor. It must be particularly grisly, Nick thought, directing his gaze in the direction that Greg's look or horror was riveted.

What he saw brought a gasp to his own lips, his eyes widening in disbelief. The person that he and Greg were staring at, lying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, sightless eyes staring up at the ceiling in the rigor of death, was Jonah Mackenzie.

Nick looked over at Greg; the younger man was standing there, eyes wide, his face drained of all color. He swayed slightly, as though he was having a hard time staying on his feet; Nick stepped closer and slid an arm around his waist, murmuring softly.

"Come on, Greg, let's get out of here. I'll take you home." There was nothing they could do for Jonah; he was obviously dead, and Nick didn't want Greg here trying to process the body of someone he loved. That would be cruelty beyond his imagination.

Greg didn't argue, or hold back when Nick turned him around and headed back outside. Catherine looked up when they came out, a puzzled frown on her face. Nick sighed; he knew that he would have to give her some explanation as to why they had to leave.

"Catherine .... one of those bodies inside is Greg's boyfriend," he murmured, in a voice that was meant for her ears only. "We can't expect him to stay here. Not after seeing that. It's .... a mess in there. I've got to get him home and make sure he's okay. He can't be here."

Catherine nodded, her eyes widening, her hand flying to her mouth. "I-I'm so sorry," she whispered, her face going almost as white as Greg's. "I didn't know, Nick. If I had, I'd have called somebody else over here. I had no idea who the bodies were. I swear I didn't."

"I know," he said, putting one hand on her should in a brief gesture of comfort. "I've got to get him home, Catherine. He's had a really bad shock. The first thing we saw in there was Jonah's body. I-I don't think Greg's in good shape. I need to take care of him."

He didn't wait around to hear what else Catherine might have to say; moving quickly, he got Greg back to the Denali, opening the door and helping the younger man inside. Greg didn't speak or move; it was as though he had suddenly turned to stone.

Nick got into the driver's seat, quickly starting the van and getting out of the parking lot. He kept glancing over at Greg as he drove; the other man didn't say a word, slumping against the seat, his eyes open but unseeing. It was almost as though he'd gone into shock.

"Greg ...." Nick didn't know what to say, but he felt that he had to fill the oppressive silence with words. "Nobody could have known what happened. You shouldn't have had to see that, babe. I'm sorry. But you can't do anything for him. We got there too late."

"Why was he there?" Greg whispered, his voice full of anguish. "That wasn't the place that he usually goes to for breakfast. He shouldn't even have been there. And who did it? Who took out a gun and shot a bunch of innocent people in cold blood? Who would do that?"

"I don't know, Greggo," Nick answered, keeping his tone soft and soothing. "There are a lot of people who get off on killing. I don't know why. They're just wired that way, I guess. I just wish Jonah hadn't stepped into the middle of what happened."

"I know he didn't have anything to do with it," Greg whispered, shaking his head. "He couldn't have. He's not involved in this, Nick. I know it. He was just an innocent bystander. And n-now ...." He swallowed hard, gulping back obvious tears. "Now he's gone. He's dead."

Nick pulled into the driveway of his house, turning off the engine and looking over at Greg. The younger man had his hands to his face, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He was obviously in no condition to be left alone. And Nick didn't intend to do so.

Greg had just seen his lover covered in blood, lying dead at a crime scene. He had to be suffering from shock, even though he probably wouldn't admit to it. Nick wanted to get him inside and sit down with him, hold Greg in his arms and let him cry, comfort him if he could.

He got out of the van, going to the other side to open the door for Greg. When he helped the younger man out of the vehicle, Greg nearly fell into his arms, blinded by tears, trembling in every limb. Nick wondered if he would be able to walk to the front door.

He didn't care whether it was a good idea to stand here with Greg in his arms or not; Greg had just lost someone close to him, and all he was doing was giving a friend comfort who needed it. There was nothing wrong with that, no reason why he couldn't hold Greg here in public.

But he wanted to get them both inside, where Greg could cry on his shoulder, where they didn't have to worry about prying eyes that might read more into the situation than was actually there. He didn't want Greg to have to share his private grief with others.

If only Greg hadn't seen Jonah at close range! he thought, his anger at the person who had committed such an act rising within him. He was sure that Greg was right, and Jonah was just caught in the crossfire. But that wouldn't make Greg feel any better.

It didn't matter to Nick that until they'd stepped into that grisly scene, Jonah had been his rival for Greg's affections. All that mattered now was getting Greg inside and letting him cry out his grief, putting him on the road to recovering from the shock of what he'd seen.

He slid an arm around Greg's waist, turning towards the front door and fishing in his pocket for his keys. "Come on, baby, let's get you inside," he murmured, wanting more than anything to take Greg into his arms, to hold him, to kiss him, to assure him that everything would be all right.

But this wasn't the place. He could do that once they were safely inside, once Greg was able to let himself go and break down if he had to. Nick would be there to hold him, to give him whatever comfort he needed. He'd always be there. He had promised Greg that much.

What would happen then? Nick asked himself. Where did they go from here? There was no rivalry any more -- but he couldn't find it in his heart to be glad of that fact. He hadn't wanted Greg to go through this kind of pain. Not for any reason.

All he wanted to do now was to try and assuage that pain as best he could. He had never lost anyone he loved in such a violent way, but he could imagine how Greg felt, to have the man he loved ripped away from him so suddenly and shockingly.

He would do whatever he could to comfort Greg, Nick told himself as he unlocked the door. And he would hope that the fragile man next to him could forget what he'd seen -- though he doubted that Greg would be able to do that for a very, very long time to come.

***

Next story in series - The Sound of Breaking Hearts.