Title: Change Is Never Easy
Author: BuffyAngel68
Pairings: Greg/Nick Grissom? (Me to know, you to figure out. Shouldn't be hard)
Rating: PG to PG-13 for a while. Greg and Nick will make it to NC-17 land eventually, but they both have a lot to get through before that happens
Summary: Greg and Nick both face a difficult road to wholeness. The others are doing their best to help, but their own issues keep getting in the way. Meanwhile, Sara is still among the missing. Will she be found before she self-destructs?
A/N: Sequel to One of Us.

THE HOSPITAL: EIGHT DAYS LATER

Hitching the backpack higher on his shoulder, Nick rang for the elevator, determinedly pushing aside memories of the scene that had greeted him the day of Greg's second attack. He focused instead on the present and how well the younger man was doing. In fact, Scott Denson was so pleased with his progress that he was allowing Greg to check out a day or two early, as long as someone was with him round-the-clock for the first few days.

As he rode up to the fifth floor, Nick marveled at the change he'd seen in Greg. In a little over a week, he had gone from frailty and silence to overflowing energy and some semblance of a voice, though he tended to push it until it deserted him again, leading Catherine to scold him. He'd never admit it, but once in a while he intentionally weakened his voice just to earn a motherly lecture. The reminder of her caring was a security blanket he clung to in darker moments.

Stepping out of the cab, Nick walked to a bench and set the backpack down. Zipping it open, he rummaged through it briefly to be sure he hadn't forgotten anything, but was careful not to disturb the neatly folded clothing too much. Once he'd reassured himself that his memory hadn't failed on even the smallest point, he closed the bag again, hefted it and moved into Greg's room.

"Hey. It's just me, Greggo. You ready to hit the road?"

Greg, laying flat on his back with one arm thrown over his eyes, lifted the other hand and quickly produced two letters.

NO

Having received a few lessons in the manual alphabet from both Gil and Greg, Nick was now able to interpret the response, but the answer still confused him.

"No? What gives, bud?" he asked gently, dropping the pack and moving into the bedside chair. "Yesterday you couldn't wait to get outta here."

Uncovering his eyes, Greg looked sadly at Nick, sighed and turned to his left so his back was to the other man. Nick, unwilling to let him get away with that, moved to the other chair. "Uh-uh. Talk to me. I can't fix the problem if I don't understand it."

Greg drew and released another deep breath then rasped out an answer.

"Yesterday... it wasn't real. Today I'm... scared."

"I know. After...the world's not the same place. All of a sudden you're wonderin' if everybody you pass on the street is gonna hurt you. For months you walk around with this... tension in your neck an' your shoulders... like your body wants to be ready to fight if it happens again. You check the doors and windows ten times a night, just to make sure nobody broke in durin' that two seconds you weren't on guard..."

Greg gasped quietly.

"Not you..."

"Hell... you were out when I told the story before. Okay... last time, then the subject is closed once and for all. I was... molested by a babysitter when I was nine. I never told anybody until Catherine dragged it outta me about a year ago. Gris I told a few months later an' Warrick found out last week while you were unconscious."

"Why then?"

"Sara."

"What happened?"

"She was talkin' to you like the rest of us didn't exist... like we weren't in the room. From what she said I realized she's a member of the club nobody wants to join... just like I am... and you too, now, I guess."

"God... she okay?"

"We don't know. Warrick tried to talk to her, but she took off. We can't find her."

Greg began to shake and Nick instantly wrapped him up in a hug, holding him tightly.

"The world... sucks." The younger man ground out, burrowing his face into Nick's shoulder.

"Yeah, it does sometimes... it surely does. We still have to go back out in it, though. No matter what, we gotta try again."

"No..."

"Greggo, c'mon... it's gonna be okay. You're not doin this alone. If I have my way you'll never be alone again..."

"Can't go out there... everybody will know..."

"That's what I thought at first. Took me a while to figure out people couldn't see through my skin or read my mind... that they couldn't just look at me an' know what happened."

"It's... too hard..."

"I know... I really do, buddy. You don't have to face any crowds today, I promise. We'll go straight from here to my truck, then to your place and right inside. We'll lock the doors an' close the blinds... you can hide for as long as you need to, okay?"

Eventually, Nick felt a slow nod against his jacket. "Good. I brought some stuff from your apartment. Shampoo, deodorant, shaver... all that. There's some slouch clothes too. You know, no buttons or belt loops. Easy stuff to get on."

"Okay... thanks."

"No problem..."

An hour later, with a little help from the nursing staff, Greg had managed to shower, shave and dress in the sweats Nick had brought. By the time he was done, however, he was exhausted, pale and drawn. Nick wrapped an arm around him and walked him back into his room, lowering him to sit on the bed.

"You stay there, okay? I'm gonna go get a wheelchair an' be right back."

"No..." Greg protested, scowling. "No chair."

Nick sat beside him, one arm still curled across his back in support, and spoke gently.

"You've come a long way back in the last week, Greg, I know that. Thing is, you weren't allowed to do much but turn over in bed and sign to Grissom. Takin' a shower an' gettin' dressed may not seem like such a big thing, but it's more than you've done in about half a month. So it took most of the energy you built up. That's nothin' to feel bad about."

"Not a... baby..."

"I know that too. Look, you're gonna be back on your feet an' back at work before the lab knows what hit it, so... let me do this for you now. Let me do what I can... while I can. Please?"

Though his hands clenched the edge of the mattress in frustration, Greg nodded. "Thanks. You feel like waitin' here or comin' with me to get the chair?" Nick asked, hoping that having the option would ease the tension between the two of them.

Smiling faintly, Greg stood, hesitated as he found his balance, then wrapped his own arm around Nick's waist. The older man picked up the nearly empty backpack and they slowly left the room together.

45 MINUTES LATER:

As they walked to his door, Greg was still reluctantly accepting physical support from Nick, but slowly beginning to see the advantages. Nick was taller and provided a strong, warm barrier between him and a world that the young man wasn't yet ready to confront.

At the threshold, however, Greg paused while Nick moved inside.

"What is it? You okay, Greg?"

"My place... it's too clean."

"Yeah... about that... I was gonna tell you but I was afraid it might piss you off..."

"You guys were here..."

"Only in the first day or two. Gris thought if they could find out where you went that night they could get a lead on who hurt you, but nothin' turned up. They only touched what they had to. After they finished they cleaned up all the print powder an' put everything back where they found it."

"They... not you?"

"I couldn't. After what you'd already been through... it felt really wrong."

Greg's bewildered expression resettled into a diffuse smile.

"Thanks." He replied, moving into the apartment under his own power. He headed immediately for the couch and dropped onto the cushions with a fatigued sigh. Nick moved around the relatively small space turning on a light or two and then securing and darkening the apartment just as he'd promised. His work done for the moment, he stopped at the corner of the couch.

"You hungry? I had to trash most of what was in the fridge, but I can call out for anything you want..."

"No. Tea..."

"Sure. I can do that. Hang on..."

Nick made two cups of the warm soothing liquid, laced Greg's with a generous dollop of honey and took both back into the living room, easing down onto the sofa beside his friend. The first sip led Greg to close his eyes and made his smile broaden as the rawness in his throat eased.

"Perfect."

"Thank God. I don't drink tea so I wasn't sure if I made it too strong or too weak..."

"It's great."

For a long while the pair sat in contented silence, sipping occasionally, not feeling the need to fill the time with words. When he was finally done, Greg sat forward, placed his cup on the table and produced a genteel yawn.

"Nap time?" Nick asked, chuckling.

Greg nodded.

"How long can you stay?"

"I promised the doc a week. After that... it's up to you. Whatever makes you feel most comfortable I'll go along with."

"Okay. A week... then we'll see." Greg agreed, rising to head for his bedroom

"Sleep sweet, man. I'll be right out here if you need anything."

"Sleep sweet? Never heard that before."

"My mom used to say it when I'd wake up from a nightmare. I was always amazed that she was cool with not knowin' what scared me so bad. I just couldn't say the words..."

At the thought of what terrors might be waiting for him, Greg blanched a little. Instinct was compelling him to dive back into the comfort Nick was so ready and willing to provide, but pride and years of hard won independence made him hold his ground.

"Sleep sweet... I like it."

"It always made it better for me. Maybe it'll work for you too."

"Maybe. You'll be here?"

"Yeah. Right here. Not in this exact spot on this cushion, but..."

"Funny..."

"I thought so. Go get some sleep. If you're ready to eat when you wake up we'll figure somethin' out."

"Food... right. I remember food... clear liquid... comes through an IV line..." Greg mumbled as he shuffled toward his room. Nick laughed and moved into the kitchen to search the cabinets for edibles and begin a shopping list.

MID AFTERNOON:

Nick grudgingly opened his eyes, yawning and groaning. After making his shopping list he'd chosen a book from Greg's shelves that looked fairly interesting and lay down on the couch to read, but he barely managed five pages before he was asleep and the book had dropped to the floor.

Twisting and reaching out to pick up the paperback, he paused, blinking at the nearby recliner where Greg was curled up and lightly snoring, a blanket haphazardly pulled over him.

"What the..."

As quietly as he could, Nick rose and carefully began to rearrange the blanket so that it covered the younger man more fully. He did all he could not to disturb his friend, but Greg wasn't as deeply asleep as he seemed. A moment or two later, Nick found himself staring into half-aware brown eyes. Greg signed a greeting, having learned through painful experience that his voice was at its most fragile when he first woke up.

HEY

"Hey. What're you doin' out here, man?" Nick asked gently, crouching beside the chair in order to drop himself to Greg's level and take any potential intimidation factor out of play.

Greg shrugged, uncurled and stretched. "Too long a story to spell. I get it. One more cup of tea comin' up. You hungry yet?"

NO. TOO SOON.

"Okay. You'll tell me when you're ready, I guess." He conceded, gripping Greg's hand briefly. "I made a grocery list. Just basics like bread and milk..."

Greg's eyes widened and Nick rushed to ease his mind. "Hey, hey... calm down. I'm not gonna go out. I said I wouldn't, didn't I? I figured I'd call Cath an' ask her if she has the time to pick up the stuff for us. Okay?"

OK. SORRY. .

"No. Don't you apologize. I told you I understand. Right now... the whole world feels like it's upside down an' backwards, an' it's gotta be scarin' the hell outta you... but I swear it'll get better. You just gotta give it time."

Greg smiled faintly, nodded and dropped the recliner's footrest down. When Nick returned with the tea, he sat on the floor in front of the chair with his and waited patiently until Greg was ready to speak.

"I tried to rest... but being alone... made me edgy. It felt better... being out here. When I could see you... I could sleep."

"Wow. Okay... we can work with that. I'll take the chair and you take the couch, though. Your neck's been through enough. Can't have you twistin' it into a pretzel every time you need to get some sleep."

"Every night?"

"Naps too. If that's what you need, that's what's gonna happen."

But... you'll be the pretzel."

"Trust me, I can handle it. More tea?"

"Please. Any soup?"

"Yeah, actually. That's one thing you're pretty well stocked up on."

"Mushroom?"

"I saw a couple cans I think. That what you're in the mood for?"

Greg hesitated then nodded, his smile brightening a little.

"One bowl."

"No crackers yet?"

"No. Just soup."

"You got it. It'll just take a few minutes to heat up."

"Not too hot..."

"Doctor's orders, I remember. No boilin' hot or spicy an' no ice cold for two weeks." Nick recited, rising easily to his feet. "I'll be careful."

In about twenty minutes, Nick was back with a tray. He reclaimed a seat on the couch and got back into the book he'd abandoned while Greg sipped his way slowly through his soup and another cup of tea. The Texan made sure to sneak occasional glances at the younger man so he'd know the minute he was done.

"All set?"

"Yeah. I'm stuffed." Greg sighed, collapsing into the comfort of the chair as Nick took the tray.

"Good. So... you think soup'll be a good first step for the next day or two?"

"Very good."

"There's only one more can of mushroom... I'll add it to the list."

As Nick moved toward the kitchen, Greg spoke up with another thought.

"Apple sauce... for breakfast."

"Good idea."

"Juice?"

Nick laughed, set the dishes in the sink and grabbed the list, taking it back to the living room.

"Here. You write what you want, okay?"

Greg's expression suddenly darkened and he looked away.

"No. You do it."

"What is it? What's goin' on?"

"I... I can't write yet."

"Why?"

His face radiating anger and shame, Greg held his hands out palm up. Nick took a deep breath, shocked that he hadn't noticed the ugly bruises before. Dropping to his knees, he took the other man's hands in his own. "Greg... damn, buddy. What'd the doc say?"

"No permanent damage. Maybe tendonitis... in a few years. Maybe not."

"Why didn't you say anything?"

This time there was no response. Hating the nausea it caused, Nick let his mind slip back to the day he had walked in on Steve Cimino strangling Greg. Freezing the memory and focusing on the smaller details instead of the whole picture, he suddenly realized the rapist had been kneeling on Greg's hands so that the young man couldn't fight back. "God... the son of a bitch..." Nick murmured, looking back up and meeting Greg's eyes. "I'm so sorry. If I'd been there..."

The younger man gently touched Nick's cheek with his fingertips then pulled back, his uncertain, almost fearful expression at odds with his words.

"You were. You... saved my life. I'm still here... and he's locked up. That's all that matters. I don't. wanna talk... or think about it... anymore. Please?"

"Yeah. It's a deal."

"Good. Now... can you take dictation?"

"Can you read my handwritin'?"

"I can try."

9:30

Greg was already out for the night and Nick was ready to sack out himself when the phone rang. Even though Greg didn't seem to have been disturbed by it, the other man picked it up immediately to avoid a repeat of the noise and took it into the bathroom, closing the door softly.

"Hello?"

"Hi. How's everything going?"

"Pretty good, Cath. He's still shaky... but he'll get there."

"Is he eating?"

"Mushroom soup. And I'm learnin' to like tea."

"Better for you than coffee." She told him, chuckling.

"Man, you can't stop bein' a mom, can you?" He joked back.

"He brings it out in me. You know... he hasn't said anything about his parents."

"Huh. He never talks much about 'em. Every other member of his family, yeah..."

"I'll check his personnel file for emergency contacts and family information."

"Good idea, but call back before you actually do anything, okay? Gimme time to feel him out on the subject first. Oh, an' do you think you'd have time to pick up a few groceries? His fridge was a science fair experiment..."

"Sure. I'll stop by in the morning before I head home."

"Great. I've got a list written up. It's not too long. Not much he can handle yet. I'd go, but..."

"He doesn't want you out of his sight?" she intuited.

"I'm sleepin' in the recliner, he's on the couch." Nick replied with good humor. "I don't mind. Whatever he needs to feel okay... I'm ready, willin' an able."

"And you accuse me of playing substitute parent?" she teased.

"Yeah, yeah... "

7:15 THE FOLLOWING MORNING

Greg was only beginning to wake, but Nick had been up and quietly puttering around the apartment for almost an hour. He'd noted a few things that could be tightened, replaced or repaired and noted them on the pad he'd used for the shopping list, adding a reminder to ask someone at work to bring his tool kit from his place along with fresh clothes. He only partially acknowledged that he'd had to brace the notebook against the wall with his cast each time he wanted to write, or find a flat surface and use the cast to hold the paper still. The fact that he could barely read what he'd written with his healthy left hand was an irritant, but he'd find a way around it. He was raised to understand that what had to be done wouldn't go away because you'd been knocked back a step or two. Tasks were waiting and he wasn't about to let a minor injury to his arm keep him from completing each and every one.

Greg sat up just as Nick walked back into the living room. The older man sat beside him on the couch and brushed Greg's untidy hair out of his half-lidded eyes.

MORNING

"Mornin'. You sleep okay?"

YES.

"No bad dreams?" Nick asked. He knew the answer, but he was curious whether Greg would be willing to tell the truth and end up in the same disagreement they'd had the previous night.

A FEW. I CAN DEAL.

"You don't have to. The pills Denson prescribed are sittin' right in the bathroom medicine cabinet..."

NO.

"He said you should take it if you had trouble sleepin'..."

NO. Greg signed emphatically. I'M DONE WITH IT.

"I'm not sayin' take it every night. Not even every other night, but you need sleep to get back to a hundred percent..."

NO PILLS. DROP IT NICK.

"Okay, okay... consider it dropped. Cath called last night after you fell asleep. She should be here any minute to pick up the shoppin' list."

GOOD.

"One of the first things she asked was if you were eatin'. I teased her about tryin' to be your mom... an' she reminded me you haven't mentioned your folks through this whole thing. Do you want us to call anybody?"

Greg mimed sipping from a cup. "Damn. Why can't I remember to get your tea before I ask questions with complicated answers?" Nick said, rising quickly to his feet. Halfway to the kitchen, the doorbell rang and he detoured to answer it. "Cath. Hi. C'mon in."

"Thanks. How is he?"

"Pretty good. Some nightmares, but I think he'll get past that alright. Did you get to check his file?"

"Yeah, but you won't believe it."

"Believe what?"

"Let's see if he's willing to talk about it first. If he doesn't want this particular secret known..."

"Yeah, I get it. He needs tea before he can really talk, but you can sit with him. I'll be right there."

Nick, by now well versed in tea preparation, had a cup ready in just a few minutes. He quickly delivered it to Greg, who accepted it gratefully. Nick then sat in the recliner. Catherine waited until Greg had taken a few sips and was beginning to relax before she began to question him.

"Greg... I did something kind of... sneaky. If I was out of line, don't hesitate to tell me..."

"What?"

"You haven't mentioned your family at all since you started really recovering... so I asked Grissom to check your personnel file for family contact information."

Greg stiffened abruptly but didn't respond, so Catherine continued. "I haven't called anybody yet. I wanted to ask you before I took that step."

Greg swallowed, winced slightly and stared intently at the woman beside him.

"You... you know then."

"Yeah, I do. Do you want Nick to know? It can stay between you, me and Gil..."

"No... it's okay... I guess. You guys were bound to... find out sometime."

"Find out what?" Nick asked, concerned with how sad and anxious Greg had become.

"I'm adopted. The stories I've told... about my family are true. They just aren't... about my blood family."

"Hell... that's not a big deal, Greggo. Millions of people are adopted."

"I'm okay with... being adopted. It's why it happened... that I'm ashamed of."

"This isn't in the file, Greg." Catherine interjected. "You don't have to go any further..."

"I do. I want you guys to hear... to understand. I never met my father... and my birth mom was... kind of a flake. My folks told me... that they were friends of hers. She dropped me off... when I was a year old. She asked them to adopt me... said she'd be traveling... and she couldn't take care of me."

There was silence as Greg drank more tea to soothe the effects of his long speech and the other two absorbed what they'd just heard. Finally Nick spoke.

"So... you don't really have any blood relatives?"

"One cousin. He lives up in the... Northwest. Washington state. My mom only sent a couple letters... over the years... but one had his address. I was so happy to get that. We write and e-mail... he's a pretty cool guy. Close to my age too."

"Do you want us to get in touch with him?"

Greg pondered this for a while, gazing down while he finished his drink.

"Yeah. Please. I just don't think... I could tell him... what happened."

"It's okay. You don't have to. I'll handle it." Nick vowed.

"Don't scare him. Make sure he knows... I'm okay now."

"I will, I promise. Where's his info?"

"Right here... in my day-runner." He said, picking it up from the coffee table and handing it to Nick. Catherine suffered a pang of guilt when she recalled how thoroughly she'd been through that book, but she pushed it aside, swearing to herself that Greg would never learn of that additional violation.

"You have that shopping list handy, Nick?"

"Oh, yeah. Here."

"Okay. You guys take care of the letter, I'll go get this stuff. Be back in about an hour."

Greg smiled and hugged her.

"Thanks."

"No problem. I'll do whatever I can to help. You know that."

"I know. It makes things a lot better."

Returning Greg's bright smile, Catherine folded the list, slid it into her pocket and left, feeling more hopeful than she had in days.

Catherine returned with the groceries right on time. She and Greg put them away while Nick composed the e-mail that both men had decided would be a better option than paper.

A little while later, Greg returned to the living room with a plastic cup of applesauce and flopped onto the couch, his fatigue showing despite his best efforts. Catherine followed a minute or two after, perching on the edge of the coffee table.

"I think you guys should be set for a while. If you need anything just call."

Nick grinned sheepishly and handed her his house key.

"Would you ask Gris or Warrick to pick up some clothes for me? Oh, an' I need my tool kit. They both know where it is."

"I could get those for you..."

"Uh-uh. Sorry, but it's a guy thing."

"Guy thing? Please..." she snorted.

"Hey, I'm serious. I decide who gets to look in my underwear drawer. You're a real good friend... but you ain't at that level yet." Nick countered. Catherine rolled her eyes and smiled at him indulgently then rose to go.

"Fine, I'll ask. I need to go get some sleep, but I'll be checking in. If you need anything else, don't hesitate to call."

Nick walked her to the door, but as she was about to leave she paused, suddenly remembering what was nestled in her purse. Pulling it out, she turned back and held the CD out to Nick. "I can't believe I forgot about this. You explain it to him?"

"Yeah... yeah, absolutely. You listen to it?"

"More than once."

"What you told me Warrick said... was he right?"

"Just make sure you're close by when Greg hears it for the first time."

"It's that powerful?"

"Each song alone, no. But played back to back, combined with the knowledge of who picked each one... it's hard not to get the message."

Realizing how clearly his own choice would speak, Nick grimaced.

"I'm havin' second thoughts about this all of a sudden..."

"Relax, Nicky. Just let things play out the way they're going to. And if he does open the door, even a little... don't be afraid to accept what he's offering."

Nick stared at her in shock.

"How did... when did you..."

"I've known for a while."

"You... has anyone else said anything?"

"Not to me. That doesn't mean they haven't noticed, it just means they're discreet."

"But..."

"I'll call in a day or two... to see how you're both doing."

"Catherine..."

"You should have the clothes by tomorrow."

"Wait a minute..."

"Take care of yourself, okay? Rest that hand. Bye, Greg."

Greg waved and Catherine strolled nonchalantly back to her car. Nick thought about yelling after her, but knew he didn't want the neighborhood hearing what he felt like saying. Instead, he shut the door and walked back to sit beside Greg on the couch.

"Where'd that come from?" the younger man asked, watching Nick tap the CD case against his leg.

"That's gonna take some explainin'. You up to hearin' it?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

"See, durin' the time you were in the hospital, some of us had this kinda... strange thing happen. At different times, each of us came across a song that made us think about you... or just spoke to how we felt about what happened. Me an' Sara... we convinced the rest of the team to give copies of their songs to Archie... an' he burned this for you." Nick told him, extending the case to Greg.

"You guys... wow." Greg murmured, turning the case over to read the names and titles. "Cath, Grissom... I can't believe you guys did this..."

"Archie threw one in too. Said he thought it made a nice finish to the whole thing."

" 'Just Remember'? I don't think I... know that one."

"I do. Trust me... he was right. Check out what Brass threw in the pot."

Greg read the title and looked back up, slightly shocked.

"Josh Groban? You've gotta be kidding..."

"Nope. Brass said you lift him up all the time... make him laugh when he really needs it."

"Whoa..."

"You wanna listen to it now?"

"Yeah... yeah, put it in." he whispered, passing the CD back so Nick could put it in the stereo. The older man complied, then returned to his spot on the couch. As the first song began to play, Greg was already swiping tears from his cheeks. Nick handed him tissues and rubbed his shoulder consolingly. He ached to do more, but he held himself in check, knowing Catherine was right. Greg would have to choose how far to open the door, or if it would ever be opened at all.

You just call out my name,
and you know wherever I am I'll come runnin', oh yes I will,
To see you again...

For as long as I shall live, I will testify to love.
I'll be the witness in the silences when words are not enough.
With every breath I breathe, I will give thanks to God above. For as long as I shall live, I will testify to love...

I feel just like I'm sinking And I claw for solid ground I'm pulled down by the undertow I never thought I could feel so low Oh darkness I feel like letting go If all of the strength and all of the courage Come and lift me from this place I know I could love you much better than this Full of grace ...

When the first notes of "Behind Blue Eyes" began to drift out of the speakers, Nick tensed and turned away. Greg listened intently for a few seconds, then sought out his friend's eyes, but the other man wouldn't look at him

No one knows what it's like To feel these feelings Like I do And I blame you

No one bites back as hard On their anger None of my pain and woe Can show through...

"Nick..."

"I didn't mean... it isn't like that..."

"Like what?"

"It's... I play like I'm a stud... like I've got all the confidence in the world, but in my head... I can't shake the idea that I'm too big a mess for anybody to take on. Now you know about me, what I went through, I'll understand if you..."

"Nick, stop. Before I was attacked... all it would've taken... was for you to ask. I was scared... so I left it up to you. If I'd known..."

"Hey, no... it's not your fault. Are you sayin'..."

"My feelings haven't changed... but other things have. We both need time... and patience."

"Patience... I can do patience. I'd be the last one to put pressure on you..."

"I know."

The last song on the CD started and Nick moved a tiny bit closer, knowing the impact the lyrics were likely to have. The need to reach out grew so strong it was physically painful, but he kept repeating the words time and patience over and over in his mind and the hurt retreated. In the end it was Greg who did the reaching, laying his head on Nick's shoulder, swabbing his face with the fresh tissue his friend provided. Before the song had ended, Nick was doing the same with a tissue of his own.

When it all goes crazy and the thrill is gone, the days get rainy and the nights get long When you get that feeling you were born to lose, starin' at your ceilin' thinkin' of your blues

When there's so much trouble that you want to cry, the world has crumbled and you don't know why When your hopes are fading and they can't be found, dreams have left you waiting, friends have let you down

Just remember I love you, and it'll be all right Just remember I love you, more than I can say Maybe then your blues will fade away

When you need a lover and you're down so low, you start to wonder but you never know When it feels like sorrow is your only friend, knowin' that tomorrow you'll feel this way again

When the blues come callin' at the break of dawn, the rain keeps fallin' but the rainbow's gone When you feel like cryin' but the tears won't come, when your dreams are dyin' when you're on the run

Just remember I love you, and it'll be alright Just remember I love you, more than I can say Just remember I love you, and it'll be alright,
it'll be alright, it'll be alright,
and it'll be alright...

7:15 THAT NIGHT

The dream came again; the one that had been gone so long, he'd begun to believe it would never return. The pain, the helplessness, the fear were all as present as they had been when it happened. He struggled, battling so aggressively in his mind that his limbs jerked and his head tossed in reality, but nothing changed. The dream progressed as it always did. The words that eventually burst from his lips were mumbled, but the scream was loud and clear.

"No... no, not again... God, no... stop... make it stop... Ahhh!"

"Nick?"

Waking suddenly, Nick whipped his head back and forth, gripping the arms of the recliner as if the feel of the soft upholstery was grounding and soothing to him. He looked to the sofa, expecting to see Greg half sitting up, questioning why he'd been ejected from his nap so rudely, but the younger man was kneeling beside the chair.

"Huh? What?"

"You're okay. Easy."

"Greg... man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up..."

"You didn't. I've been awake for... a few minutes."

"Long enough to have some tea, obviously."

"Half a cup. I put it down and... ran back in here... when you yelled. Nightmare?"

"Uh... yeah."

"About when you were... a kid?"

"No... no, I never dream about that. I don't remember it, so... no dreams."

"You don't remember? Why?"

Nick hesitated, unsure he wanted to get into it, but he eventually responded, sensing that Greg was seeking connection and to put his own lost memory in perspective.

"No clue. I think I blocked it out."

"Defense mechanism."

"Sounds right."

"Do you want to... talk about the dream?"

"It's nothing. It hasn't showed up in so long... Remember the cable installer... the guy who was stalking me?"

"Your fall. Perfect reason to... have bad dreams."

"It went so fast in real life. I know I went out the window... I can still feel the wood split... and the glass shatter against my back. Then I woke up in the hospital. In between there's just blackness. I don't remember hittin' the ground. Maybe that's why the dream goes the way it does. That fall never ends. I just drop forever..."

"Wonder why it... came back now?"

"Don't know. I had my arm in a cast then too. Maybe my mind's connectin' the dots..."

"Don't you hate... when it does that?" Greg joked, favoring Nick with a light smile.

"Most definitely. You up for some soup?" Nick asked, lowering the chair's footrest so he could stand up.

"I can get it. You hungry? I can... make you a sandwich."

"After that dream... I don't think so. Maybe later. Greg... can I ask..."

"The lab? I barely knew what happened... at first anyway. I thought maybe... I got scratched or... cut a little. In the hospital... after the explosion... that's when it hurt."

"Cath still beats herself up over that."

"I know. That's who she is. I told her it... wasn't her fault... a hundred times at least."

Nick was about to respond when the phone rang. He rose quickly, striding to the kitchen to pick it up. Greg followed more sedately, opening the cabinet to find a can of mushroom soup and searching in a drawer for the opener while he listened to the one-sided conversation.

"It's only... 7:30. You should still be... I know that. I know that too, but... Okay. Yeah. Yeah, he loved it. Twenty bucks? Oooh... sorry, boss man. Hey, never bet against Warrick. Maybe he's given up the casinos an' all that, but the instincts never die... Okay. Yeah. About half an hour'd be fine. Nah, we won't be ready to crash 'till about 9:30. Okay. See you then."

"Grissom's coming over?" Greg asked over his shoulder as he dumped the thick condensed soup into a sauce-pan, added a little milk and turned the burner on low.

"Around 8."

"He's not sleeping?"

"I tried to chew him out. He brushed me off. Said he doesn't sleep like everybody else an' didn't I have other things to worry about."

"That's our boss. What'd he want?"

"To know why you can sign. You wouldn't tell him while you were still in the hospital an' it's been drivin' him crazy. He sounded determined."

"Oh. I don't know... if I should tell him."

"Why not?"

"He might not like it. He doesn't think... anybody can read him... or tell what he's thinking. He doesn't know... I watch him."

Nick tensed but hid his sudden anxiety well.

"You do?"

"All the time. He's my... mentor. He teaches me, encourages me... slaps me upside the head when... I make mistakes. He's kind of oblivious... to my hero worship... but I think I... like it better that way."

"You think he'd get uncomfortable around you?"

"Exactly."

"You know what I think? You're sellin' him short." Nick countered. He grabbed a soda out of the fridge and walked back into the living room. Greg heard the TV click on and a nature program start in the middle of a sentence about penguins. As he tended the slowly warming soup, the young man thoughtfully pondered Nick's words.

8:10

"Hey, Gris. Come in."

"Hi, Greg. You look good. The voice is better, too."

"Stronger all the time. C'mon... sit down."

Greg led Gil to the couch and plopped beside him studying his fingernails, unable to decide how to start. Eventually he made a beginning, though a voice in his head berated him for lameness.

"So... the signing thing."

"If you really don't want to tell me, I won't push... but I am curious."

"I'm just worried... you'll be mad."

"Mad? Why would I be mad?"

"Because you're a... very private person. You don't notice... but I watch you a lot."

"And you saw what the others didn't."

"I could tell something... was bothering you. After a while I... figured out it was... your hearing. I started taking ASL classes... so I could step up... and help you. I wanted to be ready... in case the doctors... couldn't do anything."

"Greg... my God, I don't know what to say..."

"I know this is... awkward. It's okay. If you want me... to transfer to... another lab or day shift... I will, I promise..."

"Whoa, you're getting way ahead of yourself, here. Tell me why you were watching me."

"I learn from... what you do when... nobody's paying attention. Cops, Ecklie's team... sometimes they relax... slack off when they... think nobody's looking. Not you. I wanted to be... up to your level... so you'd be... proud of me."

This admission rocked Grissom back on his mental and emotional heels for a long moment. Finally, the noise of water running and dishes clicking in the kitchen sink spurred him out of his vapor-lock.

"I am. I may not be able to show it, but I am. You're a consummate professional, you're probably the best DNA tech in three states, and I don't want you to transfer anywhere. I need to be sure you understand something, though..."

"You're not perfect. I know. I've seen you get mad... when a kid gets hurt... and the worse your hearing got...the more scared you were. You're human... but it never interfered... with the job. That just made me... respect you more."

"Wow. Courageous, unselfish, intuitive, compassionate... I think I should start learning from you, Greg."

"No argument here." Nick agreed as he strolled up, drying his hands on a dish-towel. Greg grinned and looked at the floor. Grissom stayed until almost nine o'clock, talking to both men and subtly reassuring himself that both were doing what was necessary to heal both their physical wounds and those that were not so easily repaired. When Greg began to yawn, Nick gently ended the visit, only a minute or two before Gil himself would have done so.

"I was waitin' for that. Bed-time, Greggo."

"I'm fine." He retorted, hiding another huge yawn behind one hand.

"Right. You can have the bathroom first. Get goin'."

Greg scowled, but rose and moved off to follow orders.

"He's endearing when he regresses." Gil commented wryly.

"Yeah... he's actin' like a grade-schooler, alright. That's how I know he's gettin' better."

"I almost forgot, Catherine left me a voice mail. The things you asked for are out in my car."

"I'll walk you out."

CASCADE, WASHINGTON

"Chief? Blair, you home?"

Dropping his keys in the bowl that sat by their apartment door, Jim Ellison nudged his remarkable hearing up a notch or two and located his lover's heartbeat coming from the space that was once a separate bedroom, but now served as office and work space for both men. Pushing Blair Sandburg's pulse slightly into the background, Jim detected sniffling and sobs and immediately headed for the office, intent on learning what the problem was and easing the younger man's pain if at all possible. He found his partner seated at the desk in the far corner of the room, hunched over his laptop. "Hey, babe. I heard you crying. What is it? You okay?"

"Yeah... it's my cousin Greg."

"The one in Vegas?"

"Uh-huh. I... I just got an e-mail from a friend of his... one of the investigators he works with."

"Not good news, I'm guessing."

"Greg... he was assaulted two weeks ago. Two men beat and... and raped him..."

"Oh, God... If he didn't send the message... did he make it?"

"Yeah, he survived... thank God. He was... according to his friend, Greg didn't know how to tell me. He knows I worry about him... too much, usually."

"You, a mother hen? Nah. Who'd believe it?" Jim teased gently, wrapping his arms around Blair and drawing him close. "Does he say why they waited this long to get in touch?"

"They didn't know about me. Nobody thought to ask him about his less than immediate family until this happened."

"He's okay?"

"Yeah, The message didn't go into much detail. It basically said he's out of the hospital and home." Blair said, looking up at his lover and wiping away tears. "I need to go see him... make absolutely sure. I won't feel right if I don't check things out in person."

"No problem. You can have the phone first."

"First?"

"The Captain has to approve the vacation time before I take it."

"But... you don't have to come. You're right in the middle of that gun-running case and..."

"Are you kidding? I won't let you face something like this alone. Besides, contrary to what my ego might like to believe, the Cascade PD can easily do with out me for a week. Go call the university and rearrange your schedule. I'll start packing."

10:30 THE NEXT MORNING:

"Hello? Greg? He's in the shower right now. Oh... Dr. Denson. Yeah, well... I don't know if he has one or not, but... No, see, it may not make a difference. He's pretty much... I know he needs to follow up with somebody. It just might have to wait, is all. He hasn't been outside since... Yeah, I'll tell him, but don't get your hopes up for him actually gettin' there. Bye."

Nick hung up and turned back to continue what cleaning he was able to manage. He'd just finished wiping down the kitchen counter when Greg emerged from the bedroom, dressed and carrying a fair sized bag of laundry. He walked toward the front door, hesitated then finished the journey, dropping the bag and quickly turning away. Nick watched, his heart twisting, and he moved to his friend's side. Greg looked at him for a moment then turned his gaze to the window on the other side of the living room. Step by tentative step he made his way there, but then he seemed bewildered, unable to decide what to do next. Nick followed, speaking gently as he came up behind Greg.

"You want me to raise the shade a little?"

Greg paused, making up his mind, then nodded. Nick reached out and pulled the cord that furled the roman shade and lifted the cloth a few inches, allowing natural light into the apartment for the first time in two days. Both men recoiled fleetingly, but their eyes soon grew used to the difference. When he laid his hands on Greg's shoulders, Nick found his friend tense and he spoke again, trying to calm him.

"Relax. I know it feels like some alien planet still... like if you step out there you won't be able to breathe, but you're okay. I'm right here an' you're okay. This is like the soup. It's a step. Here... put your hand on the glass."

"I'm safe..."

"Right. You're still safe. The glass'll keep it all out there."

Fearful, Greg gazed warily out at a world he no longer trusted. Watching the wind combine with the sun to create flickering tree shadows on the grass, memories of similar days drifted through his head and tears welled in his eyes.

"It's bright. Probably hot out."

"Yeah, well, Vegas doesn't get much of anything but sun." Nick chuckled.

"I know I can't... become a shut-in, Nick. I have a life... a job. So how do I... stop being afraid?"

"Not all at once, I know that much. It's only been two days, buddy an' you've got deeper stuff to heal up than a few bruises. Don't rush it."

Slowly backing away, Greg watched Nick lower the shade again and blinked as his sight re-adjusted.

"Did somebody call? I thought I heard the phone."

"Denson. He's got you scheduled for a follow-up exam in less than a week."

"I can't even... look out the window for... more than a few seconds. I won't be ready."

"I told him that. He didn't listen too well."

"I know. His name really... fits him. He can... be pretty dense."

Nick laughed and strolled over to where Greg stood.

"Nice one, Greggo. The bag near the door's full of dirty clothes, I guess."

"The coin-op is... at the other end... of the complex. I got as far as... getting everything together... before I realized."

"It's okay. It'll get done."

"By imposing on.. my friends again." Greg retorted, his expression abruptly clouded with anger.

"You know damn well they don't see it that way, Greg. They wanna do what they can. It makes 'em feel good."

"Not so guilty... you mean."

"Greg." Nick stated simply, pulling the punch on the reproach in his tone, but not removing all of it. The younger man responded by drawing and releasing a deep breath and making himself calm down, though it took effort.

"I know. Sorry."

"It's okay." Nick reassured him, ruffling his hair lightly. "When you've been through this kinda thing, sometimes you get mad when there ain't a damn thing wrong. I said some really stupid, hurtful stuff to my folks... stuff I really regret now. The words just came out, usually at the worst possible time. Comes with the territory."

"Is this one of... those ' worse before... it gets better ' things?"

"Maybe. Everybody's different. You know... I've got a good friend... I'm sure she'd be willin' to come here and talk things out if you wanted to."

"No. No therapy. I don't... remember the attack... so what good... would it do?"

Nick looked at the ground, his forehead furrowed, and answered very quietly.

"You're not alone in that, Greggo. Like I said before, I've got some blanks of my own, but... I'm startin' to realize that sludge gets left behind even if the memory isn't there."

"Nick... I just can't. I'm sorry."

The Texan grimaced, silently cursed Catherine and finally looked up to meet Greg's eyes.

Damn it, Cath... damn you for speakin' this idea where I could hear it. I can't believe I'm about to say this...

"I'll make you a deal. You agree that Cynthia can come a couple hours a week... an' I'll do it too."

"What are you saying?"

"I never got any real help after... after the babysitter. How could I when I couldn't tell, anybody, right?"

"And your fall?"

"I talked to Phil once. Gris made me go. I convinced the both of 'em I was fine so boss man never made me go back. Now..."

"The nightmare. You want to... understand it?"

"Yeah. That... an' the other. I think I need to. Thing is if it's just me... I'll likely get pissed or scared an' quit before I ever find anything out. Maybe with you there... it'd work."

"Stronger together."

"We have been so far."

Greg stared at Nick, his eyes searching his friend's face intently. At last, he responded.

"Okay. Not this week... but okay. Just don't expect... any big miracles."

"No danger of that. I stopped believin' in those a long time ago."

"We're relatively sane... and we're both... still alive. That's two I know of." Greg replied, gently rumpling Nick's hair in return before he headed for the kitchen to warm up some soup.

"Huh. You just could be right, kid." Nick murmured to himself. "If we can find Sara and save her from herself... we'll make it a hat-trick."

12:30 A.M. : CSI HQ

"Gil?"

"Hmm? What?"

"Okay, enough. You've barely spoken to any of us since you went to see Greg. What's going on? Did he upset you, worry you..."

"None of the above."

"Then what? I mean... I know you can get quiet and introspective, but this is ridiculous."

"It went well. He's doing fine, he just... shocked me. He knew something was up with my hearing long before I went in for surgery. He started learning sign... so I'd have someone already in place who could understand me and could translate."

"Wait... you're saying he anticipated that you might use deafness as an excuse to isolate yourself more than you already do. My God... none of us know you that well. How does Greg rate the privilege?"

"He said he watches me."

"Like a stalker?"

"In a positive way. He looks up to me... claims me as a... shining example of sorts."

"Uh-huh." Catherine responded with mild skepticism. "Exactly how high is your pedestal?"

"I questioned him about that. I'm convinced he's got me just about at eye level. Maybe a little higher, but it's nothing to worry about."

"If you're sure. Wow... he really is a pretty amazing guy. If anyone's deserving of a little hero worship, it's Greg."

"I suggested that, but he brushed it aside. Still, we really should do something for him."

"Such as?"

"No parties. He's probably not up to being surrounded by people."

"Right. I wish I could give him his watch back."

Gil's face lit up like a chandelier.

"A replacement. That's perfect. I'll spring for it this time."

Catherine slowly caught Gil's drift and she also began to smile, but she added a reminder.

"He'll get the original back after the trial. I was just wishing he could have it now. How about something besides another watch?"

"Not too high end. Bugsy Siegel I'm not."

"Why don't I pass the hat instead? That'll give the whole lab the chance to feel like they're helping him recover."

"Not bad. Once we see what our final total is..."

"Then we go shopping."

Gil looked a little worried.

"I don't like the light that word puts in your eyes, Catherine."

"What can I say? Occasionally I have to surrender to the world of femininity or the Barbie fan club would ex-communicate me." she replied, striding away down the hall.

McCARRAN AIRPORT: 1:15 A.M.

As they waited for their luggage to come around on the carousel, Jim Ellison slid one arm around his younger companion, supporting him and preventing him from falling. Blair Sandburg snuggled close and let his eyes slip closed.

"Hey, none of that. Hang on a little longer. I'll get you to the hotel as soon as possible, okay?"

"Sorry. It's just been a really long, stressful day."

"I know. Here they come..."

Pulling the bags off, he handed Blair his, forcing the other man to straighten and somewhat regain consciousness, but the minute they were in the cab, Blair's curly head dropped onto Jim's shoulder. Jim assumed he was dead to the world until he spoke softly.

"Dial it back when we get there, Jim. Casinos are all about noise and flashing light..."

"I know, Chief."

"I wish I could call Greg now... but it's too early in the morning."

"We'll get in touch when we wake up, I promise..."

11:30 THAT MORNING: JIM AND BLAIR'S HOTEL:

Quietly, Jim padded around the room, storing things in the dresser and night table. They had both been far too tired the night before to even think about unpacking, so he was handling that task now while Blair washed up. He smiled as he moved back and forth, liking the soft swish of socks on carpet. He never wore shoes in a hotel room, and had at one time disdained wearing anything on his feet at all, but a health lecture from his lover had convinced him to compromise on socks. Once he was done with his own luggage, he started on Blair's, knowing full well by now how the younger man preferred things to be put away. All the while he had an ear trained on the bathroom, wanting to time the arrival of their room service breakfast just right.

When heard the water shut off, Jim phoned the order in and moved to clear the small table by the window of pamphlets, menus and other paperwork. Several minutes later, Blair emerged in his hotel robe, vigorously toweling his long dark hair dry. As he approached, Jim sat down and positioned one of the other straight-back chairs close to him, but facing away. Surrendering the towel to his partner, Blair dropped into the second chair and held a comb over his shoulder. Jim accepted it then draped the towel down Blair's back, gently lifting his hair out from underneath. He knew from experience how much extra moisture would be released as he worked and he preferred not to make more mess than was necessary. As they talked the older man progressively worked the comb through his lover's mahogany locks.

"You know... I don't think you've ever told me why you do this for me. One day you just pointed at a chair and... started combing."

"You complaining, Chief?"

"No... just curious, I guess."

"It's... soothing. It relaxes me. Besides, I know how good it makes you feel."

"Mmmm... it does. Where did you ever get so good at it, though?"

"Carolyn." Jim stated simply, naming his former wife. The men didn't talk about her very often as Ellison had carried little joy and a great deal of pain and confusion away from the marriage. Normally, Blair would drop any subject when her name came up, but this time he pushed slightly, sensing this might be a good memory.

"She had short hair, didn't she? Not much room for tangles."

"She cut it not long after we split. It used to be past her shoulders. She was swearing and ripping it out with a brush one morning... tears running down her face. I never could stand to see her hurting like that, so I made her stop. I sat her down an' took a comb, worked through all the knots slow and easy. By the time I was done she'd stopped crying and was vowing to burn her hairbrush. After that, I always combed it out for her."

"Oh, yeah... I remember now. I ran out of my conditioner that first day. I was ready to take a pair of garden shears and give myself a home buzz cut..."

"I never would have let you. I love your hair way too much to ever stand by and watch you butcher it."

Finished, Jim stood and removed the towel. Blair bent his head back and grinned, his now smooth, shiny curls swinging freely.

"Thank you."

"No problem, love." Jim replied, bending to drop a swift kiss on the other man's welcoming mouth. He'd just returned from replacing the towel in the bathroom when room service knocked on the door. As Jim let the waiter in, he caught Blair heading for the phone out of the corner of one eye. "Not before breakfast, Chief."

"Jim..."

"Neither of us has eaten since about ten o'clock last night. It can wait." Ellison reminded him as he signed the bill and began to set the table. Blair pouted slightly, still standing by the phone, until the waiter was gone again, but eventually he walked back to the table and sat down. The enticing aroma of the food woke up his appetite and sidelined his worries about his cousin for the moment.

ONE HOUR LATER:

As they stood side by side at the sink, one washing the dishes and one drying, Nick was privately reveling in how comfortable and right it felt. In the past, he'd run from so-called "domestic bliss" every time there was even a chance his relationship-of-the-week might bring it up. He avoided situations like dishes and mutual house-cleaning, preferring escape to being trapped into saying what he was really feeling; that if they were getting anywhere near intimacy or, God forbid, sex, he would be gone as if he were never there, with sincere apologies, but no explanation. He'd left behind more bewildered, hurting women than he cared to remember.

Draping the dishtowel over the oven door handle to dry, Nick carefully approached the thought that this time he couldn't do that kind of disappearing act. This time, the other half of his potential love match already had the explanation, and no apologies would ever be good enough if the former Texan decided he couldn't cope and ran away once again. To his surprise, as he probed around the edges of the concepts that had always terrified him before, he found no urge to pack a bag and flee to the darkest corner of the nearest bar. Commitment, love, even allowing all the horrors of his past to be excavated in Greg's presence didn't come close to fazing him like he'd anticipated. The issues of intimacy and sex brought the fear much closer, but knowing that the other man had his own distance to travel down that road made it that much easier for Nick to at least think about.

Lost in his thoughts, staring at the oven door as if he were waiting for a genie to appear, Nick never heard Greg coming up behind him. He was shocked rudely out of his contemplations a moment later when the residual water from the dish sponge cascaded over his face and neck. Laughing and spluttering, he turned just in time to see Greg toss the sponge into the sink and make his escape.

"You underhanded little brat... get back here!"

Nick was moments away from going after Greg and dumping him into a running shower clothes and all when the phone rang and he forestalled his revenge.

"I'll get you back later, little man. The longer I have to think about it the sweeter it'll be anyway!" Nick shouted joyfully as he picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi... is Greg Sanders there?"

"Who's askin' ?" Nick replied cautiously.

"This is his cousin, Blair Sandburg."

"Hey, good to hear from you. I was waitin' on a return e-mail."

"Yeah, well... I can be impulsive. Is he there?"

"Right now he can't be anywhere else."

"I don't understand..."

"He hasn't left the apartment since he got outta the hospital. It's not that big a deal. He'll work through it. He's just not ready yet."

"Right. I know what that's like... Can I talk to him?"

"I would, but his voice still isn't back to phone volume."

"What? What about his voice? Your message didn't say anything about his voice."

"It should have, I know. I just wanted to give you the basics of what happened and make sure you knew Greg's alright."

"Forget it. Give me your address. I'm coming over there."

"From Washington State?"

"No, we're at a hotel on the strip. We got in early this morning."

"We?"

"My partner's with me. Address?"

"Hang on a minute here..."

Abruptly Blair's voice faded into the background. A few seconds of arguing followed his retreat before a new, much deeper voice took over the call.

"Hi. Jim Ellison. I'm Blair's partner at Cascade PD."

"Nick Stokes, LVPD crime lab."

"Crime lab... Is everything okay?"

"Yeah. Greg an' I work together. I'm watchin' over him 'till he gets back on his feet."

"That's a relief. Look, I apologize for Blair. You have to understand he's done nothing but worry since he got that e-mail about his cousin. He wasn't trying to freak you out."

"It's cool. I get it, man. It's just that Greg's defenses are still pretty low. I'd rather growl an' offend somebody than take a chance on him gettin' hurt again."

"I know the feeling, trust me. If Blair could see for himself that the kid's really alright, though, it'd make him a lot easier to live with..."

"Oh yeah. C'mon ahead. I'm sure it'll do Greg a lotta good too." Nick recited the address and directions and Jim jotted them on the notepad by the phone.

"Great. We'll be there in... about an hour."

"Lookin' forward to it. I'll let Greg know you're on your way."

"Thanks. See you soon."

"Okay. Bye. Greg! Boy have I got a surprise for you."

"Yeah, I'll bet."

"I told you, I'm gonna think on my revenge. Now get on out here. We got visitors comin'."

Wary, Greg peeked around the door frame of his bedroom, fully appearing only when he was sure Nick didn't have a fully loaded Super Soaker or the kitchen sink sprayer in hand.

"Who?"

"That was your cousin on the phone. He an' his partner flew in from Washington last night. They're comin' over in an hour."

"Blair? And Jim? God, we never should've... sent that e-mail. I knew he'd... flip out."

"So he worries. One more person to care about you ain't exactly a bad thing."

"Caring would be fine... but Blair's turned nagging... into an extreme sport."

"Then him gettin' to see you face to face is the best thing, right? Once he sees you're not halfway to the pearly gates, he'll calm down an' you guys can enjoy bein' together."

"Maybe. I've never met... Jim. I feel like I... know him from Blair's... letters and e-mails, though. He sounds like.. a great guy."

"Yeah? Hope so. He sounded solid on the phone." Nick replied, swiping moisture off his face and flicking it at Greg, who grinned and stuck out his tongue. Nick pushed him gently in the center of the forehead in response, walked to the bag of clothes he'd stored behind the sofa, crouched and searched through it for a dry shirt. Rising to his full height, he looked at Greg thoughtfully. "I've got a turtle-neck somewhere in here. It'd be big on you, but if you wanna borrow it... you know, less questions."

"The first word out of... my mouth he'll know... something's up. Thanks anyway."

Nick grimaced, but decided to confess.

"He kinda does anyhow."

"Kind of? What did you... say to him?"

"He wanted me to get you on the phone. All I said was your voice wasn't up to that yet... I forgot we decided not to tell him about the second attack."

"How bad?"

"He didn't yell, He got a little wound up, but he didn't yell."

"Wound up. Great. When he sees the bruises... he won't let me... out of his sight."

"I'm really sorry, Greggo..."

"No. It's okay. When he starts the... lecture on health food... I'll just lock myself... in the bathroom." He responded with a mildly queasy smile.

Nick choked back a laugh and headed for the bedroom to change.

45 MINUTES LATER

Carefully, Jim pulled a newly retrieved rental car into a space a few yards from Greg's apartment. As he shut down the engine and extricated the keys, he watched Blair pull his hair back into his usual ponytail and winced slightly.

"You know, if you didn't do that with it all the time, you might have an easier time getting it smooth after you wash it."

"If I didn't do this... I'd be eating hair with every meal... and I'd be blind every time the wind kicked up." He replied as he finished the process of securing his dark curls. "Besides, we don't have enough time together outside of work as it is. While you comb out my hair we get to talk and really connect. I value that like I value you." he concluded, kissing Jim lingeringly. Ellison longed to deepen the kiss, even entertaining thoughts of dragging his lover into the back seat for a quickie, but he reluctantly pulled away, running a thumb slowly over Blair's cheekbone and hoping his regret showed in his eyes.

"Love you too, Chief. More than anything."

"Wish we had time for you to show me how much..."

"Later, I promise. Right now your cousin's waitin' on us. From everything you've told me, I'm almost as anxious to meet him as you are. He sounds like a pretty down to earth guy."

"That's the impression I got from his letters and instant messages. He also loves rock and roll and he's got a wicked sense of humor." Blair elaborated as he got out of the car, stretched and moved around to the driver's side to join his partner. " I really think you'll like him."

"I'd say the chances are pretty good. C'mon."

When the anticipated knock on the door finally sounded, Greg suddenly reached out and grasped Nick's near hand tightly.

"Hey... you're shakin. What's up, bud?"

"Nerves. Writing and sending... pictures isn't like... meeting each other. Blair's done so much... gone everywhere. He's a teacher and... he works with the cops."

"And you're just a lab tech, is that it?"

"Sometime that's... how it feels."

Nick touched Greg's chin lightly and made the younger man meet his eyes.

"C'mon now. You know better than that. In the lab you take second place to nobody, Greggo. You don't have a single reason to be ashamed of who you are an' what you've accomplished. Understand?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Nick replied firmly, pulling away and heading for the door. "Besides, your cousin ain't here to get in a competition over whose life turned out better. He flew down here to make sure you were okay."

"I know..."

"Then I can let 'em in?"

"Go ahead. I'm gonna go..."

"I know. Find a safe corner. Lemme know when you're ready."

Greg moved into the kitchen and stood where he couldn't see the door or the sunlight that would shine in when it was opened. Nick waited until the other man was settled before opening the door and greeting their guests.

"Hi. Nick Stokes. C'mon in guys."

"Thanks. I'm Blair Sandburg and this is my partner."

"Jim Ellison." The taller of the two stated quietly, offering no further information. Nick studied him for a moment, but figured the man would speak further when and if he was ready.

"Nice to meet you both." He responded, closing the door and locking it. "You're safe, Greg. The door's secure."

Slowly, Greg emerged from his refuge and stepped out into the room to meet the newcomers. It was a few moments before Blair truly recognized his younger relative, but when he did his face was transformed with excitement.

"Greg? Oh man, it is so good to finally meet you!" Blair enthused, reaching out to enfold the other in a hug. When Greg stepped back, fear shining in his eyes, Blair sobered and held his ground. "I'm so sorry. I let my emotions get ahead of my memory sometimes..."

"It's okay."

Jim, who had been hanging back slightly, now stepped up beside his lover, his expression intent and focused. His instincts and experience with assault cases had instantly acknowledged what had caused Greg's voice to sound so harsh and his eyes moved from Greg's face to his throat and the fading bruises.

"Are those from the attack?" he asked, looking back up. Greg felt locked into his gaze, utterly compelled by his unyielding stare, and he told Jim, if not the entire truth, at least the bare bones of it.

"The second one."

"Second! You were assaulted more than once? Why didn't you tell me when you e-mailed?" Blair scolded. Unconsciously, Nick heard something in the tone he didn't like and he stepped between Blair and Greg, glaring down at the stranger and softly voicing his own admonishment.

"Don't yell at him."

Gazing up at Stokes' sudden, predatory grin, Blair was certain, for a brief moment, that all of Nick's teeth came to a point. The younger man stared, unblinking, for several seconds then backed away one step.

"I'm sorry. Like I said on the phone, I can be impulsive. I lead with my emotions, especially when my family's been hurt."

"I understand. I'm kinda doin' the same thing right now. Any threat, even if it's only perceived, an' my guard dog instincts take over." Nick apologized, his breathing slowing down and his expression relaxing. When he felt Greg touch his shoulder, Nick slid aside and let Greg step up so he could address Blair's concern.

"I didn't tell you... because I knew you'd... react the way you... just did. You worry... too much."

"And you have a talent for getting yourself trampled and blown up and downplaying it to a scraped knee..."

Sensing the argument could last a while, Nick escaped to the kitchen to fix snacks. Jim followed after a few seconds hesitation. Once in the kitchen, he turned and leaned back against the counter, continuing to watch Blair and Greg as they shifted their argument to the sofa.

"Can I help with anything?" he asked, never really changing the direction of his gaze.

"Nah. I'm just throwin' together some crackers an' stuff. You're free to grab what you want to drink from the fridge, though."

"Thanks." Jim responded vaguely. A minute or two later, he changed the subject to the pair he was studying "How'd we ever get hooked up with these two, huh?" he asked, his tone lightly amused.

"Don't read that much into me bein' here. Right now he needs me for support."

"And you need to be around him, even if it's strictly platonic."

Nick flushed slightly and turned away to search a cabinet for an item that he didn't really need.

"Somethin' like that. We're walkin in the right direction... but we've both got a couple hundred miles yet to go before we're anywhere close to ' hooked up' ."

"Maybe he does... but you're already there."

Nick turned back and gazed curiously at Jim.

"What makes you say that, man?"

"I know the signs. The first time I saw Blair, I was head first over Niagara Falls... without a barrel or a paddle. I couldn't admit it to myself, though. I couldn't even consider how I felt until the day another cop started ragging on the kid. I stepped in between 'em and threw the other guy a soft warning and a big "I'll kill you if you blink" smile... just like you did. When Blair went off on Greg your instinct to protect him was automatic. You didn't think about it, not for a second. Maybe he's walkin', and that's as it should be after what he's been through, but you... you're on a Harley doing seventy."

Nick shook his head and went back to arranging crackers on a plate.

"Of course I protected him. He's been ripped limb from limb emotionally. What else was I supposed to do?"

Jim chuckled, shifted his weight away from the edge of the counter and moved toward the fridge.

"Uh-huh."

"What?"

"It's just funny how much of us I can see in you two." Jim told him, grabbing a beer and a bottle of juice. "We danced around each other at first... we had issues from our pasts to slog through, hurts we had to let go of. If you want it to work, you'll do whatever you have to. Trust me... love like Blair and I have found is worth anything and everything." He admitted as the refrigerator door swung closed and he moved toward the living room. When Nick spoke up, Jim paused and turned back to face him.

"Would you... could you go so far as to... talk things out with somebody?"

"Like a counselor? A few times. I was dead set against it, but Blair finally convinced me it'd be good for me... make the two of us stronger and make me a better cop. He was right."

"Greg... he's not dealin' so good with the fallout from the rape. He wouldn't agree to get help until I promised I'd do it too."

"And your issues are major league?"

"About as major as issues get."

"You remember that old joke about the guy sitting on the roof of his house in the middle of a flood?"

"I think so. Four boats and a helicopter come by and he keeps sayin' no, that God will save him. He drowns and gets up to heaven an' asks God what happened. God says ' I sent four boats and a helicopter. What more do you want?' "

"Blair taught me that's more than a joke, it's a metaphor. No matter how close we are to drowning in our own personal flood, no matter how much we feel like our old ways and our pride will pull us through one more time... we have to hang onto enough humility to recognize and accept rescue when it's offered. If you love Greg like I think you do...you'll keep that promise. It won't do any good if he finally makes it to a place where he's ready to commit and you're stuck on the side of the road fifty miles back."

"Outta gas and wonderin' why the hell I passed up all those fillin' stations." Nick replied, grinning.

"You got it. Need a hand with the food?"

"I can get it."

Nick picked up the two plates and one bowl he'd filled with munchies and joined the other three in the living room, completely revising what he'd intended to tell his therapist friend when he called her.

GRISSOM'S CONDO:

Gil sat stretched out on his bed, propped against the headboard and alternately doodling on a notepad and re-reading notes on a recently closed case in preparation for preliminary hearings. When the phone receiver tucked between his shoulder and ear finally began to speak to him, instead of playing banal instrumental versions of classic rock, he brightened and focused all his attention on the call.

"Yes, Dr. Marina Wasserman in otolaryngology, please. Hi, Marina, it's Gil. My hearing is fine. No deterioration at all. Actually... I'm calling because I need a referral and I trust your discretion. Urology. No... I mean, I hope nothing's wrong. I haven't had any troubling symptoms... Marina... yes, that is the reason, but... Why are you so excited? No, I haven't approached the other person yet, this is just a first step... Marina. You're my doctor and a friend... but I don't have to answer that. Marina! The referral? Thank you." he sighed, noting down the name and number on his pad. "I'll make my own appointment. No I will not call the morning after and tell you how it went! Good-bye, Marina." he said with finality, hanging up and dialing the number he'd written. "Good afternoon. My name is Gil Grissom. I'd like to make an appointment for a full work up. Yes, absolutely. That... that should be included." he stuttered, grateful that he was blushing in privacy. "When? That's fine. I'll be there. Thank you."

HALF AN HOUR LATER:

Curled close together on one end of the couch, Greg and Blair talked quietly, catching up on events in their lives that their e-mails had left out. Jim sat on the other end, laughing as he and Nick, perched in the recliner, picked their careful way through the minefield of getting to know each other. Occasionally, both of the older men snuck glances at the younger ones, assuring themselves that no further arguments were about to erupt, but beyond these spot-checks, both pairs kept to themselves.

"God... Greg, I'm so sorry. I wish I could have been here... been with you."

"All you could have... done is worry... yourself sick. I had enough... people around me... doing that." Greg replied, smiling.

"Yeah. Sounds like you've got some really loyal friends down here. That's good to know. It'll ease my stress a little when I go back."

"You not stressing? That'll... be the day."

"I'm not that bad! Hey... maybe you've got one friend that's more than that?" he asked cautiously, tipping his head vaguely in Nick's direction. "The way he guarded you..."

Greg flushed slightly.

"Someday. It may take... a long, long time... before I'm ready... for a booty-call again. Right now... I can't even... go outside, so... dates are out of... the question." Greg joked, but Blair's expression was somber.

"I know. After my NDE... I did the same thing."

Greg's eyes widened.

"I forgot about that. How long... did it take before... you felt okay?"

"Weeks. I still get jumpy around water once in a while, so I don't think I'll ever be completely back to the person I was before, but... I can live with ninety-nine point nine percent."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"It might not... be enough."

Blair shot a brief glance at Nick.

"For you or for him?"

"Either. Both."

"He's been gentle with you? Caring and respectful?"

"Always."

"Protection isn't an issue... not after that little encounter earlier. Let's see... he knows when to push you and when to back off?"

"Yeah."

"You can tell when he's mad or upset without having to use a crowbar to pull it out of him?"

"Absolutely."

"Then I don't see a problem, man. He loves you. He'll be sticking around for the long haul."

Greg suddenly paled and turned away, his comment spoken so quietly Blair almost didn't catch it.

"Not like some people..."

"Some people? What's that about?"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to... say that out loud."

"Okay. You don't have to tell me..."

"It's nothing major. You know I'm adopted."

"Yeah..."

"Nick didn't until... two days ago. He and Catherine... she's another friend who... works with me... they asked if I wanted... to get in touch with... my family... and the whole... story came out."

While Greg paused to take a sip of apple juice, Blair watched him carefully then responded.

"You've never told me more than the basics."

"I don't tell anyone. It's humiliating... and bad for my... self-esteem."

"I don't understand. You were adopted at two, right? How much can a two year old do that would be that awful?"

"Not me, my birth mom."

"Oh. Boy, do I know what that's like. Go on."

"She left me with... my adoptive family... when I was only... a year old. She said she couldn't... take care of me... that she'd be doing... a lot of traveling."

In the back of Blair's mind, an old memory tried to surface, triggered by Greg's words, but he suppressed the tickling thought, trying to stay focused.

"And it took a year to get you declared abandoned and finalize the adoption?"

"I wasn't really... abandoned. She wanted them... to have me. She signed the papers... before she took off. It took time to move... through the courts... that's all."

"A few of the families Naomi dumped me on tried to keep me. Of course the system always found her and she showed up just in time to re-stake her claim."

"My folks told me... I was better off with them. My dad said my... birth mom was sweet... but also a flake and... a flower child that... took a wrong turn... and never made it.. out of the sixties."

Blair slowly sat up straight, staring at Greg intently. The memory that had only been an annoyance a moment before now insisted on revealing itself fully. It left him shocked and breathless for several seconds. By the time he recovered, Jim had sensed something was wrong and was sitting close to him, stroking his hair and face.

"Blair? What is it, baby? What's wrong?"

"No... it can't... it's impossible..."

"What?"

"Greg... you're 29... right?"

"Yeah."

"Three years between us, give or take a month... that fits. And your birthday's in November?"

"You know it is. What's... going on, Blair?" Greg asked, becoming agitated. Nick moved to crouch near him, taking his hand and trying to calm him.

"I'd like to know the answer to that too." Nick added.

"It's... I can't be sure. I just have this... this memory. I was two years old, maybe closer to three... and my mom suddenly started gaining weight. She never did that. A pound one way or the other, maybe... but not like this. She was always leaving me with friends and coming back to pick me up later, but when she vanished this time... she didn't show up again for a year and a half. It... it was the longest she'd ever been gone. That family was one of the ones I told you about, Greg... the ones who wanted me to stay for good."

Greg, rarely slow on the uptake, had already vaulted ahead to the logical conclusion of Blair's story and his face had gone starkly pale.

"No... you're lying..."

"Somebody has been... but not me." Blair forced out. He looked around frantically, leapt to his feet and raced to the bathroom. Jim followed and Nick and Greg heard Blair start to retch before the door shut softly, cutting off the worst of the sound.

"Greg..."

"No...He's... Blair's not... I can't... I have to be alone..." Greg sobbed, standing and stumbling into his bedroom. The door slammed shut before Nick could even recover his wits enough to form anymore words, never mind run after his friend the way Jim had pursued Blair. When Jim emerged a few minutes later, he found Nick alone on the couch, holding a cup of coffee tightly with both hands and staring into the middle distance. Ellison slowly dropped down beside the former Texan. It took a little while for Nick to come around and acknowledge the other man's presence, but Jim was willing to wait as he had his own shock to recover from. Finally, Nick spoke.

"Was that... was your buddy talkin' about what I think he was?"

Jim nodded.

"If Blair's memory is accurate, and it usually is... he and Greg aren't cousins. They're either half or full brothers. Knowing Naomi's history, my guess would be half."

"Hell..."

"My sentiments exactly."

"Is he okay?"

"For now. He's rinsing his mouth. He'll probably be out in a minute. Greg..."

"In the bedroom."

"I thought I heard a door slam."

"Man... why'd this have to happen now?"

"You mean why did we have to show up?" Jim replied with only the barest touch of defensiveness.

"No! No way. This should have been good for both of 'em. It was goin' so well, dam it. I just meant..."

"Greg's been through enough."

"Yeah. You sound like you know."

"If we end up sticking around, maybe I'll have time to tell you some of the stories. Most of it you won't believe, but... they're great to hear."

"How long do you guys have off work?"

"A week, but I can get that extended no problem."

"Then don't go runnin' home just yet, okay? Once the kick in the teeth wears off... they're gonna need to talk. Least I hope so."

"Me too." Jim agreed, watching Blair approach and standing to greet him with a fierce embrace. "Better?"

"A little. How's Greg?"

"He's hiding out in his room. Give him time..."

"God... this can't be happening, Jim..."

"I know. Let's head back to the hotel... rest some more."

"That'd be good."

Jim turned partially back toward Nick.

"We're gonna go."

"Okay. Give us a call when things settle down some."

"I will."

Jim and Blair left the apartment, arms wrapped tightly around each other. Nick remained on the couch for another few minutes, waiting for his own emotions to relent and his heart and breathing to slow. Then he sighed, picked up what dishes he could manage with his good hand and walked them to the sink.

TWO HOURS LATER:

Jim Ellison didn't sing. If questioned, the people who knew him best would reply that he not only didn't sing, he couldn't. Given fly on the wall status in the couple's hotel room, those same people would have had their pre-conceived notions utterly shattered.

Jim lay spooned close to his lover, one arm draped lightly over Blair's ribcage. The hand attached to that arm was tracing slow, random patterns on the smaller man's stomach while Jim sang softly. Blair Sandburg was the only one who'd been afforded the privilege of hearing Jim's surprisingly sweet mid-range tenor more than once and, despite several pleas and entreaties, Ellison was insistent that it stay that way. Still, as much as Blair wished the world could know of Jim's gift, a very small, slightly selfish part of him rejoiced that the precious treasure was his alone.

At the moment, however, nothing in Blair felt like rejoicing. He was swathed in blankets and surrounded by Jim's warmth, but he couldn't seem to stop shaking. Even the intensely beautiful lullaby drifting over him was barely making an impact, when in normal circumstances Jim's singing calmed him instantly no matter what had happened.

" Good-night my angel now it's time to sleep And still so many things I want to say.
Remember all the songs you sang for me When we went sailing on an emerald bay.

And like a boat out on the ocean I'm rocking you to sleep.
The water's dark and deep Inside this ancient heart You'll always be a part of me... "

For the first time since they'd returned, Blair stirred in Jim's easy embrace and reached out for a tissue on the nightstand, blotting the dampness on his cheeks.

"I love that song... it's one of my favorites..."

"I know. I wish it was working. I hate knowing you're in this much pain... Should I try something different?"

"Maybe..."

"More Billy?"

"Yeah. The home song..."

"That's yours. It's the only one I can get you to sing to me."

"Can I help it if the lyrics fit me?" Blair replied, smiling faintly.

"Guess not. Go on, then. Sing."

"I can't... there's no music in me right now."

Jim repressed the growl of sheer fury that demanded to be voiced. One of the things he loved most about Blair was his feel for rhythm and melody and the way the simplest tune could induce the younger man to move and dance. The thought that anyone, especially his eternally absent mother, could make Blair feel as if his love of music had been driven from him, enraged Jim beyond anything he'd ever felt. Despite this surge of negative emotion, however, he did his best to keep his voice light while still expressing his empathy.

"If she ever comes near you again I'll smack her into next week... guaranteed."

"I wouldn't mind getting in a backhand or two, myself."

"Blair!" Jim admonished gently.

"Hey, I'm still trying to pick my heart and my jaw up off the floor. Gimme a little time... I'll be back to my mostly pacifist ways."

"Sorry. It's just... you always forgive her. I admire that. Forgiveness isn't so easy for me..."

"Yeah, well..."

Jim sighed and snuggled closer to Blair, pulling the other man tighter against him.

"She's finally stepped over the 'last straw' line?"

"I think so. I mean... everything before this I could kind of understand. She interferes and screws with my life, yeah, but... at least she usually had good intentions. Not telling me I had a brother... nothing she can come up with could ever excuse that big a lie."

"At least she did what she could to get you in touch with each other. She made sure you had a relationship, even if it wasn't as deep as the one you would have had if you'd known the truth."

Blair turned in Jim's arms and studied his lover intently.

"Now that you've patched things up with Steven... now that you've really gotten to know him, would you trade that for anything in the world?" Blair asked of Jim's own formerly estranged younger brother.

"No. Nothing except you. I'd give up everything to keep you with me..."

"Same here, big guy. But you understand what I'm saying, right? She stole all the years Greg and I could've already spent as brothers... how am I supposed to forgive that? How am I supposed to even understand it..." Blair whispered, breaking down into heaving sobs. Jim rocked him slowly, murmured comforting words and sheltered him until the tears faded away, finally taking the shivering with them. It coincided, fortunately, with the ringing of Blair's cell phone, but before Ellison could reach out and grab it, Blair spoke up, his voice weary.

"Please don't, Jim..."

"Oh, c'mon. You can't think..."

"It's her. She always knows when I'm upset or hurt."

"You're not ready to talk to her."

"Not even close."

"I have to at least answer it, love. If she doesn't get anyone to pick up she'll come racing back from wherever, find out we're not in Cascade and completely go off her rocker."

"You're right... okay, answer, but I'm incommunicado..."

"Got it. Hello? He's okay. He's around somewhere. No. His choice. I'm sure. No. Good-bye."

When Jim finished and replaced the phone on the nightstand, he looked at Blair to find him smiling grimly.

"You didn't trust yourself not to use dirty words and give her a stroke."

"Damn right." Jim agreed, wrapping Blair up once again. "I know you're exhausted, Chief... why don't you try an' go to sleep?"

"I don't know if I can..."

"Just close your eyes and listen, then okay?

When the rain is blowin' in your face And the whole world is on your case I would offer you a warm embrace To make you feel my love.

When the evenin' shadows and the stars appear And there is noone there to dry your tears I would hold you for a million years To make you feel my love... "

SAME TIME PERIOD: GREG'S BEDROOM

Nick stood in the doorway to Greg's room, watching and becoming more and more concerned. The younger man was curled up on his bed, back to the door and Nick was certain he knew he was no longer alone, but Greg hadn't moved or spoken. Finally, Nick's worry ended his internal struggle over whether or not to initiate a conversation.

"Greg?"

"Go away."

"I just wanna make sure you're... you need anything? Anything at all?"

"Privacy."

"Greggo, I..."

"It's not your fault, Nick."

"That's not it."

"Then what?"

"I don't know... I wanna help so bad, but I can't figure out how..."

"I don't know either... that's why I... need time and quiet to think."

"Okay. If... if you get nervous... or if you just decide you wanna talk, I won't be but a few feet away."

Nick turned to go, but he never made it out the door.

"Talking won't help. You don't have... any more answers... than I do."

"I can try."

"Fine. Who should I... be mad at?"

"I don't understand..."

"Who do I blame? My birth mom for... treating me like... a Christmas present that... didn't fit? Blair for being the... one she chose to keep? Of course, I could... hate myself too. Maybe I just... wasn't good enough...to make her want me..."

"Greg, God no..."

Nick strode toward the bed, but halted a foot or so from his goal when he saw fear flash momentarily in Greg's eyes. "Is it... can I hold you... like I did in the hospital? If you say no, it's no, just... damn it, you're hurtin' an I can't think what else to do..." Nick pleaded, desperately trying to keep his voice free of pain or anxiety. Greg had to know he was Nick's priority and only focus and that the Texan's own fears and issues would remain locked firmly away as long as Greg needed him.

Eventually Greg sat up and looked at his friend and protector. Slowly, Nick approached and took a seat on the edge of the bed. After thinking for a moment, however, he changed his mind about the hug and held out both hands palm up instead of opening his arms. Greg quietly sighed with relief and laid his hands on Nick's.

It's a connection. That's what matters. We're makin' contact an' he's comfortable. I've held him before... the memory of how amazin' that feels is gonna have to be enough to keep me goin'. I can wait for him... I can, damn it.

Nick smiled, knowing he'd made the right choice, and began to speak softly, but with great emotion. "I want you to listen close, 'cause this is real important. You didn't do this, bud. You an' Blair.. your hands are clean. You did nothin' to make her hurt you like this. It's on her... you get that? It's on her. You were only a baby for God's sake... he wasn't much more than a toddler. You just stick with me, Greggo. I'll see you through all this... however it plays out I'll be at your side... okay?"

"I was getting better... I really was. Now here comes... another rock slide..."

"I know. I won't let it break you... and this'll be the last for a while, I promise. You deserve some peace an' I'm gonna see you get it."

"My hero..."

"You got that right. As long as you'll let me be... or you need me to be."

"Not forever... but don't send your... cape and tights to the... dry cleaners yet."

"Understood..."

THE LAB: START OF SHIFT

Though he was also studying a report as he stood by the door to the locker room, Grissom's main focus was on the people strolling in to start work. When he saw Catherine enter, he greeted her cheerfully.

"Cath. Hi."

"Hey."

"Can you spare a minute?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"How much did you manage to collect for the gift fund?"

"A lot more than I was anticipating. Almost a hundred and sixty."

"Impressive." Grissom replied, raising one eyebrow.

"The day shift insisted on contributing even though Ecklie forbid it when he got wind of why I was asking for money. You look excited. You have an idea, don't you?"

"Yeah, but I wanted to pass it by you first."

He grinned and Cath was reminded of a few rare moments when she had seen his childlike side emerge. It hadn't happened in a long time and she was gratified to realize he hadn't let the little boy inside him die. The memories enticed her to return the mischievous smile as she responded.

"Okay... shoot."

"Half on a gift card to his favorite music store."

"Perfect. And the rest?"

"I'm torn between clothes and electronics."

"He probably has more than enough of both..."

"True. Those were my only ideas."

"We'll think of something. Any cases yet tonight?"

"Two. Both look fairly straightforward, but..."

"... nothing's ever how it looks. I know. Which one do you want me on?"

"Warrick and Carleton can handle the hotel DB. You and the other newbie will be with me."

"Oh yeah. Malenson. How's he doing? I haven't had much chance to work with him."

"Personality-wise he's alright. He works hard, he's professional..."

"But he's not Nick."

"He isn't supposed to be."

"C'mon. You miss him, you marshmallow."

Grissom eyed her critically and she tried again. "Oreo cookie? Hard on the outside, sweet and mushy in the middle?"

He shook his head.

"French roll." he corrected. "A little crusty, but warm and tender where it counts."

Catherine laughed and Gil began to walk away.

"Meet you outside in ten?"

"That'll do fine." He replied over his shoulder.

Nick went to sleep in the recliner that night, even though Greg was still firmly entrenched in his bedroom at nine-thirty when Nick finally conked out. When he woke the following morning, however, he smiled as he glanced sideways. Once again, Greg had found his way out to the living room sometime in the middle of the night, stretching out on the couch and soothing his turmoil in the comfort of Nick's presence.

Nick lowered the footstool carefully, trying to be quiet. By the time he'd fixed a plate with toast and eggs for himself, his housemate was stirring and grumbling. Nick brought him a cup of tea a few minutes later, carrying his own breakfast in and placing it on the coffee table. Greg sat up, frowned and rubbed his eyes.

"Mornin', bud."

Greg lowered his chin, cleared his throat huskily and looked back up at Nick.

"Morning."

Nick grinned.

"Hey! And without any tea! Cool!"

"Better."

"Yeah, it's great! Way to go, Greg."

"Yay, me." Greg replied, reaching for his cup and sipping it slowly. "Can I have some of that?"

"Toast an' egg? You sure you're ready?"

"I've been waiting until I could... talk in the morning without help. Also... I'm starved."

"After four days of tea, juice an' soup, I'll bet you are. Here, you take this plate. I'll make more."

"This is yours..."

"Not now it ain't. Go on, eat."

Greg smiled faintly and accepted the offer, pushing the events of the previous day to the back of his mind and trying to concentrate on the first solid food he'd seen in quite a while. The smell of the eggs enticed him, despite feeling that his stomach had shriveled up and blown away like a tumbleweed. When Nick returned, Greg's plate was only half empty, but the younger man was sitting back with one hand on his abdomen and a pleasantly stuffed expression on his face.

"Good man. You're smart to take it slow an' not overdo it. Give your body plenty of time to adjust." Nick praised as he dug into his meal. When he glanced over a few minutes later, Greg seemed sad and contemplative and Nick prodded gently.

"Penny for your thoughts."

"Hope they're worth more than that."

"Bill Gates couldn't afford 'em, trust me. Is it yesterday?"

"No. I miss Sara. I'm really worried."

"We all are. Nothin' more we can do, though. Not 'till she decides to get found, anyway. The PD's tried everything they can come up with. It's on her now."

"We can't give up."

"Hey, nobody's given up on Sara, Greggo. They just got to the limit of their resources, that's all. 'Bout the only thing they haven't done is resort to a Ouija board..." he suggested, chuckling.

Greg's eyes lit up. "What'd I say?" Nick questioned.

"I can't tell you yet. Can you... get me the phone?"

"Sure. Hang on. I'll bring it back while I get these dishes scraped and into the sink."

"Thanks."

When Nick returned with the portable, Greg dug into his day-runner, plucked out the paper Blair had given him with the hotel phone number and their room number on it and dialed.

When the phone rang, Jim paused in the middle of picking out clothes for the day to grab it, then balanced it between his ear and shoulder while he sat in a chair to put socks on.

"Hello?"

"Jim? It's Greg."

"Hey, you sound good. Voice is getting stronger."

"Time, patience and warm tea... with honey. Look, is Blair around?"

"He's out for a walk. Yesterday still has him kinda... messed up. His mom calling didn't help."

Greg paused for a long moment, breathing shallowly and closing his eyes.

"She called? You mean you're... in touch with her?"

"God, I'm sorry, kid. I shouldn't have just blurted that out..."

"No. It's okay. I'm just... I'm still trying to wrap my... mind around all this. What did she say?"

"Not much. I didn't give her a chance." Jim responded darkly. "Neither one of us really wanted to talk to her right then. Blair was too upset and I was too mad."

"I understand, I guess. I'm not sure how... to feel yet. Look, would you guys like something... to take your minds off this?"

"Blair would probably jump at the chance. What've you got in mind?"

"How does a tour of our... crime lab sound?"

"Sort of a visiting dignitaries thing? Love it. There's probably a lot we can learn and take back to Cascade with us."

"Great. I'll call and set it up. It won't be 'till... late tonight, so get some extra sleep."

"That's right. You work graveyard."

"I used to."

"They can't take your job away for something that wasn't your fault."

"It's not that."

"Right... the phobia. Nick and I talked a little about the two of you doing therapy together. I told him it was a good thing. It really helped me after Blair... after what happened to him."

"God... I almost forgot you found... Blair in the fountain. You saved his life... like Nick did for me."

"Yeah? Stokes didn't say anything, but then I get the feeling he's the type who wouldn't. He doesn't want medals or newspaper headlines. Still having you around is all he cares about."

Greg blushed and grinned, remembering Nick's initial reaction to the CrimeStoppers article, but he sidestepped the subject.

"Tomorrow, after you get up, can... both of you come over again? Only if Blair wants to..."

"He'll be ready to talk by then, trust me."

"I hope so. To understand why she did... what she did, I need to know... more about her. I don't even know her name..."

"Do you want to?"

Greg hesitated, debating with himself, but eventually he answered.

"Please..."

"It's Naomi."

"Naomi. That's pretty... is she pretty? Have you ever seen her or... only talked to her?"

"Yeah... she's pretty. She's beautiful, in fact. On the surface anyway."

"Jim..."

"I'm sorry, kid, but I had a four page list of reasons to want her out of Blair's life and mine, long before you ever got dragged into it. If I spout a little bile occasionally... I just have to hope you understand."

"I'll try. Tomorrow?"

"We'll be there. Thanks again for arranging the tour."

"You'll enjoy it. Um... I have to go, okay? My voice..."

"I can hear it's getting tired. Go ahead. We'll see you soon."

"Bye."

Greg handed the phone back to Nick and the other man moved off to hang it up. When he got back, Greg was hugging a pillow to his chest and staring into space. Nick dabbed away the tears from the younger man's face and touched his arm gently.

"You okay?"

"Her name's Naomi..."

"Your mom? Wow... cool. You feel like talkin'?"

"Not really. Could you put on my CD?"

"Yeah, of course."

"And then call Brass for me? Tell him I need a favor..."

Next part of the story - Change Is Never Easy

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