Title: Dig the Hole Wide and Deep
By: jayceepat
Rating: NC-17 for language and adult content
Warnings: non-con
Summary: Love isn't always enough.
Spoilers: None
A/N: This is a sequel to 'Putting Down Roots'

It had been 5 months since Nick's memorable house-warming party; memorable for so many reasons. There was the fantastic food, the beautiful house, the friends, the laughter, Grissom trying to play Twister, the 'most of the rest of the night blazing hot sex with Greg' after everyone else left.

Oh, did you read over that last part too fast? Go back and make sure you have that little bit firmly planted in your mind. You got it!! Nick finally, after 7 years of denial, admitted to Greg that he was crazy about him and wanted to pursue a relationship with him. He was only planning on telling Greg and then if Greg hadn't laughed his ass off or swung at him OR tried to gently let him down because he wasn't interested; he was going to ask Greg out on their first date.

What happened instead was a happy, hot, sexy Greg in his bed, his shower and....oh yeah....his ass; several times in fact. It was a good thing they both worked graveyard and had all day to recuperate because neither one of them could walk without groaning and sitting was something they both approached with a great deal of care.

During these past five months, Nick had experienced his highest highs and his lowest lows. That's saying a lot when it comes from a man who's had a loaded gun shoved in his face on at least two occasions, been thrown out a second story window by a suspect, later had that same suspect (Nigel Crane) drop a dead body through his ceiling and then first stick the gun in Nick's face and then try to use it to blow his own brains out. Oh and let's not forget the cherry on top,Walter Gordon. Walter Gordon, whom Nick had never met in his life, had a daughter in the women's penitentiary and he blamed the CSI's for putting her there. He decided to get his revenge on them and Nick paid the price. It was ironic; Nick had not even worked on her case but he paid....oh how he paid; buried alive, running out of air and eaten alive by fire-ants. Yes he had paid many times over.

But all of that didn't hold a candle to trying to live with and love one Gregory Hojem Sanders.

======================================

Right now, Nick was at the absolute bottom of one of those low points. He had put in a double, most of it scraping blood, guts, urine and feces off almost every single surface in a run down mobile home in a run down trailer park on the very far outskirts of Las Vegas. There was a mountain of forensics evidence and because of the number of bodies in the trailer, Grissom had wanted every single bit collected, bagged and tagged.

Nick's head, back, shoulders...oh what the hell, forget about what hurt. About the only the only thing on his body that didn't hurt was his eyelashes and that's because his eyes ached so badly, he couldn't tell about his eyelashes. The only thing that had kept him going for the last five hours had been the knowledge that his boy-friend had the night off and had spent it cleaning their house and catching up on all their laundry. He could come home, take a scalding hot shower and then climb into a clean, sweet-smelling bed in a clean, sweet-smelling house and wrap himself around his clean, sweet-smelling boy friend.

Nick was tired, so tired, it took him a second to realize that his living room was a disaster area. He looked around slowly and then saw the food spilled on the coffee table, the papers thrown all over the floor, the clothes scattered from one end of the room to the other. He slowly walked into the kitchen. There were dirty dishes in the sink, on the counters, the tables; in fact there were dirty dishes everywhere except in the dish washer. He glanced into the laundry room. He was sure it was the laundry room; it was in the right location but there was no glimpse of a washer or dryer; they were hidden under the mountain's of dirty clothes, sacks, boxes and bags of trash that hadn't been taken out to the curb.

He walked into the bedroom ready to kill. But Greg, his loving, messy, completely un-reliable Greg was nowhere to be seen. In the bathroom, there was not one single inch of unoccupied vanity. Make-up, hair-products, cotton swabs, even bit's of toilet paper with blood stains (Greg was the messiest shaver Nick had ever seen) were littered in layers. Nick reminded himself, as he had so often in the last five months, that grown men did not cry. He stepped into the shower; it was only marginally cleaner than the crime scene he'd been working for the last 30 hours. He kept his eyes shut, partly because they hurt so bad and partly so he wouldn't have to see what his beautiful bathroom had become. He hurriedly bathed and shampooed and got himself clean. When he stepped out, he couldn't find a towel. There were none on the towel racks nor in the linen closet. A wet, steaming Nick Stokes walked into his bedroom and finally found one clean t-shirt he could use for a towel. He started to just collapse on the bed but that's when the final blow fell.

The sheets were a mess; stained with semen, blood and well, other body fluids. Let's face it folks, homosexual men have anal sex AND they don't always have said anal sex after they've both had a nice cleansing shower. Lot's of times, they have it after a long day of work and junk food and there is a reason why one of the derogatory terms for male lovers is 'mud packers'. I digress!

Nick knew there were no clean sheets. He pulled the disgusting sheets off, threw them on the floor and went and got a dust ruffle from the linen closet. His mother had given it to him when he first moved to LV and he just hadn't given it away yet but at the moment, it was the only clean thing in his house. He threw it down on the bed and collapsed. He was asleep in seconds.

 

Greg had a completely different view of the last five months. For him, those five months had been the closest thing to heaven on earth, he'd ever experienced. He had been attracted to Nick from the moment he'd been introduced during his first night at the lab. Greg was completely at ease with his sexual orientation. He didn't make a big deal of the fact that he swung both ways but if anyone had ever asked him a direct question, he would have given them a direct answer.

He loved the fact that he worked with some of the most attractive people, both men and women, he'd ever seen. Flirting was a part of his daily work schedule and he was so good at his job that he could indulge his love of flirting without missing a single drop in his complicated compounds.

But of all the people he flirted with, Nicholas Aron Stokes was the 'Holy Grail', the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. If a genie had appeared and told him he could have one magical night, but only one, with the object of his desires and he would never have sex again, he would have picked one night with Nick and never hesitated at all.

When Warrick, Archie and Bobby told him he had to stay and help Nick clean up after his house warming party because he had the night off, he grumbled but he had to keep turning away so no one could see the smiles he was having trouble hiding. Spending time with Nick, no matter what they did, was fine with Greg.

And then, Nick had made him a killer margarita and taken him into his bedroom and Greg had been speechless for one of the few times in his life. The bedroom was his design; exactly. Then Nick put his hands on him and told him he liked him; really liked him. He heard Nick say something about bed (it was only later, much later that he discovered that Nick had said he didn't expect him to go to bed with him right then) and he gave up his thanks to every God he had ever heard of and kissed him with all his heart and soul and good God, Nick kissed him back. Nick paused long enough to tell Greg he didn't want a one-night stand and that was the start of a night that still made Greg shiver when he thought about it.

The only cloud in the whole five months was Nick's weird drifting into 'Martha Stewart' land. Furniture was meant to be sat on and hold books and food and even feet. Nick had other thoughts about that. He would get all bent out of shape about things like towels on the floor (what the hell....he would pick them up sooner or later and throw them in the laundry room) and making a bed when you got out of it. Why?

Either you were going to get back into it (or at least on it) to make love or you were going to fall in it to sleep. Why bother to make it? All though, he did have to admit when he came in from a hard shift and the bedroom was cool and clean and the sheets felt like silk against his skin, he could almost see Nick's point.

**************************************** **

Greg slowly forced one eye open and knew at once it was a bad idea. He closed it quickly and laid there trying to bring some order to his jumbled mind. The only thing he was sure of, was who he was. Everything else was sort of a jumble. Maybe if he tried the eye again slowly and just a slit, he might get some meaningful input to process. Oh the pain, the pain. After several agonizing tries, he got the eye open and looked around. Unfortunately, he was laying on his stomach on something, with his head sort of hanging down, (no wonder his head hurt so bad) and the only thing he could see was a floor; an extremely dirty floor.

Vaguely, off in the distance, he heard another moan. He knew it wasn't his. He could still recognize his own moans. The moan was followed by a low, "Oh my good God, what have I done?" That was immediately followed by painful retching and then the unmistakable sound of someone worshiping the porcelain God.

Greg slowly and carefully worked his head up and back on a solid surface. Then he tried the eye again. That was better; still painful but at least he was looking at a coffee table. Perhaps he could inventory the contents and make a decision where he was. That would have worked except for the fact that the coffee table was laying on its side on the dirty floor and nothing seemed to be close enough to the toppled table to inventory. Greg knew at once that he had to move his head a little more. Man, he still had it. Sharp as a tack even in his current condition.

It took a long time but eventually Greg was sitting upright. He had to slump down so he could lay his head back because it still wobbled when he tried to balance in on his neck. He had figured out he was in his friend Rob's apartment. Parts of the last 24 hours began to come through to him. He remembered getting off work and Nick was no where to be found. He called Nick's cell and was told he'd just picked up a multiple murder way out on the fringes of the city; for him to just go home and he'd see him when he got there. Nick reminded Greg that he had the next shift off and he had promised, blood oath, to clean the house and do the laundry. Greg told him not to worry and he was going to go home and get some shut eye. When Nick left for work that night, he'd do the 'Merry Maid' gig. They both found things to do on their off shifts so they wouldn't get their internal clocks messed up.

Nick never came home. Greg had slept hard until almost 6.00 pm when Rob and some of their other friends had called and asked if Nick was around. Nick and Greg's old friends didn't get along too well. Nick was a serious guy and his friends were so NOT.

He had already checked his messages and found two from Nick telling him he was going to double over on this one so he told the guys they could come over if they brought food. They did and Greg moaned out loud when he remembered a food fight and seeing French fries sailing through the air and landing all over the furniture in the living room. Nick was going to kill him. They had all decided to go clubbing since it was so seldom they got to do that anymore. Greg, Lance and Bud were all in solo relationships and it was like an alignment of the planets that all of them were without their significant others at the same time.

Greg had felt a moment of 'perhaps I shouldn't do this' but he ruthlessly pushed it down. After all, he worked hard, he was a good person, he deserved to have fun. The house and the clothes would still be there when he got back and as long as he picked up a little before Nick got home AND got them both some clean underwear it would be OK. Except it was now after 12:00 noon and he knew the house was a pig sty. He did not remember putting any of the leftover food away and he was pretty sure he hadn't picked up any of the flying French Fries and he knew he hadn't thrown the clothes in the washing machine before he left. Of course in his own defense, he couldn't get to the washing machine without taking out a lot of garbage. (Which he just remembered he'd been telling Nick he would get rid of for the last 3 weeks.)

Greg knew it was going to take more than groveling and a spectacular blow job to get Nick over this one. The first thing he needed to do was get out of his club clothes, (which smelled disgusting even to him), get himself showered, shaved and shampooed and get home to his man and start making it up to him.

**************************************** ****************************

When Greg slid in through the back door, the house smelled stale and nasty. It was completely still. He slipped through into the bedroom and saw his love laying on some weird tan thing with ruffles for God's sake, out like a light. He slipped off his clothes and carefully got onto the bed and as close to Nick as he could without waking him. It took a while but at last he was up against that strong body that he loved so much. He slipped his arms around his sleeping boyfriend and cuddled him close to him. As he slowly drifted off, he thought once again how lucky he was and how much he loved Nick. He also felt really guilty for pissing away his downtime after the promises he'd made.

**************************************** ****************************

Nick woke up to the familiar feel of arms holding him close. He could feel Greg's body against his and for one brief moment he rolled up against his bed partner and pushed his hard erection up against him. Greg was still asleep but he was so attuned to Nick that he automatically opened his legs so Nick's cock could slide between his thighs and in his sleep, he slid his hand up Nick's back to cup his neck and hold his head against him. They lay together as they had every waking time for the last five months and their bodies began to move together in a dance that was as old as time itself. They rocked each other into a sleepy, slow orgasm that was in it's own way as satisfying as steamy hot sex. But when Nick reached down to pull up the sheet to cover them against the room's chill, he couldn't find the sheet. The more he searched the more he woke up and when his hand rubbed across something that felt suspiciously like a ruffle, he woke up completely.

Everything came rushing back and he was right back where he was when he dropped onto the bed; in a blind rage. He jumped out of bed, grabbed Greg by the shoulder and started shaking him, hard.

"Wake up damnit! Where the hell have you been and what happened to your promises to me that I wouldn't have to come back to a pig sty one more time?"

Greg was never at his best when he first woke up and considering that he still had a hangover and he was floating on the left overs of the great orgasm he'd just had; well, you could say, it was not his finest hour. He had no idea what was happening, he just knew Nick was furious so he tried to do what he usually did when Nick was angry; sex him out of it. But when he reached for Nick's cock, Nick exploded into a screaming, fit. He was so angry he was spitting.

Greg felt that Nick had changed the rules without telling him. For the last five months, Nick got mad, Greg got him horny, Greg got him off and everything went back to normal. This time, however, Nick would not let him touch him. He kept yelling about dirty dishes and garbage and no sheets and a bathroom that reminded him of his crime scene. Finally Greg got awake enough to get mad and he started yelling back. He yelled that it was just furniture, it didn't have feelings, it couldn't keep Nick warm or make him happy and didn't that count for anything?

When they started calling each other names, Nick stopped yelling. He got cold and quiet and he told Greg he thought he needed to go back to his own place and maybe they both needed to do some serious thinking about what they wanted. Greg got up, threw his clothes on and told Nick he knew exactly what he wanted; he'd never changed his mind. He loved Nick completely and unconditionally but it was pretty obvious that Nick could only love an unrealistic idea in his own head and not a real man.

Nick told him, to take what he needed and Greg answered back that right that moment the only thing he needed was to get as far away from Nick as he could. Nick slammed the bedroom door at almost the exact moment Greg slammed the back door.

 

It was ironic that Nick had been going through the same 8 days 8 hours and whatever minutes that Greg had but his reaction had been completely different. He had not missed Greg at all. He'd been fighting an increasingly severe bout of anxiety. It seems that their breakup had coincided with one of Las Vegas severe temperature spikes and as the red lines on the thermometer inched upward, so did the crime incidents. Everyone was working overtime, no exceptions and there were no days off. This was causing Nick anxiety because his filthy house was never out of his thoughts. He barely had 5 or 6 hours between shifts and his body insisted on getting most of that as down time. That meant that he was lucky if he got to spend even 30 minutes trying to restore order to his surroundings. By the time he got his cleaning supplies out and worked on something it was time to clean the cleaning supplies and put everything back. He had tried once to leave everything out but it had worried him so much, he'd had to turn around and go back and put things up. Thank heaven's he'd managed to beat Dave to the crime scene so a simple apology to the uniform at the door with a mumbled 'Traffic is a bitch tonight' had covered his tardiness.

Isn't it strange how the most intelligent of us can miss something when it's applied to our own situation?

Nick may not have had an IQ to equal Greg's but he was a very intelligent man. His co-workers would have been astonished to realize how well read he was and how varied his interests were. He had been fascinated by the human mind ever since he'd gotten into forensics and he'd done a lot of reading on the subject. After his near death experience at the hands of first Nigel Crane and later Walter Gordon, he'd read extensively on the subject of PTSD. He was a private man. He had no intention of baring his soul to some over-educated idiot with a bunch of letters after his name whose whole reason for existence was to ask him 'How does that make you feel?' He knew that PTSD was real and he was more than likely to have it so he had prepared himself to handle the situation on his own and retain his privacy and his dignity. For Nick, not being thought vulnerable or ridiculous was the most important thing in his life. The most important that is until the night he found himself to his amazement putting his arms around his co-worker Greg Sanders and trying to perform a tonsillectomy on him.

The next five months after that night had shaken Nick like nothing he'd ever experienced. He was completely out of control of himself, his actions and/or his emotions for almost every single second of those five months. Order and cleanliness were important to Nick. Care for his possessions was also important to him. Nick had come from money. No one knew about the sizeable trust fund that had come to him from his grandparents on his 25th birthday.

As the baby of a large, talented, aggressively over-achieving clan, he'd been alternately coddled and picked on. Nick grew up with the idea that people would make excuses for him because he was the baby and he was just so darned cute. To say that the Dallas PD was a revelation was the understatement of the year. No one made excuses for him on one hand and yet on the other, if he did screw-up, no one did anything to him. He was Judge Stokes son and the district attorney was his mother. He had lawyers and cops for siblings. No one could touch him but no one ever gave him credit for anything he did do right. Add to that, Nick's own doubts about his sexuality and you had one fucked up individual.

It was a testament to Nick's basic good traits that he managed to perform 3 separate actions that would change his life forever. He was coming up on his 35th birthday and he was dissatisfied with his life, his future, his achievements...Hell he was unhappy with everything. It didn't help that his parents had gone from hinting he should be getting married and start producing little Stokes to flat out stating it to throwing single females from 'good' families at him. He knew now that accepting a dinner invitation from his mother or father meant they had lined up yet another suitable 'Stokes breeder'.

He went on-line, looked at monster.com and saw the Las Vegas Crime Lab was looking for a CSI; science degree a must and any sort of law enforcement experience a plus. When Nick saw the message at the end of the ad, telling all applicants to respond attention: Gilbert Grissom, he polished his resume and sent it off before he could chicken out. Gil Grissom was a name that was very familiar in his line of work. He was a renowned scientist and had a formidable reputation as a criminalist who built rock solid cases. Working under someone like Grissom could be the difference between coasting through life as the youngest Stokes and actually accomplishing something with his life and his degree. All of that was great and wonderful but it still didn't stop Nick from puking his guts up when he realized he'd really pressed the send button.

When he got a response, not through his computer, but via a letter from the crime lab setting a date for an interview and telling him travel arrangements would be made upon his acknowledgment of the letter, he threw up again. Then he put in for PTO for the date in the letter and when he got an OK, he responded with a firm yes.

The Las Vegas lab was everything he'd hoped it would be; chaotic and active. People were moving or working but most looked up as he was escorted down the hall to Captain Jim Brass' office. Most of them gave him a small friendly smile as he went by. Nick had given a lot of thought to the façade he wanted the Nevada people to see. He decided to play up the Texas charm and friendliness but back it up with solid educational credentials and accounts of his years with the Dallas PD. He was wearing a nice, dark blue suit; not too expensive but for sure not something from the 'Bargain Barn', a pale blue dress shirt and a grey tie with wine and blue stripes. Nick knew he looked good. He looked really good. He had never cared that much about his looks. Every one in the Stokes family was good looking. It came from genes and nothing he had done. He did back up the DNA with careful eating habits and a strict exercise regimen. He considered his looks to be another asset like his degree, his extensive reading habits and his attention to detail. He wasn't at all surprised when he aced the interview. He knew as soon as he started talking to Brass how to handle him. When Brass asked him why he was considering leaving his home state, he gave him his most earnest, wide-eyed look, leaned forward and said, "Look Captain Brass, I know you've got my file and you've probably done a back-ground check already so you know my folks are really big in Texas politics and Texas justice. As the youngest and last one of the 'Stokes kids', I probably can get a free ride for as long as I want to take it. BUT, I'll never know if I'm good or if I'm just a Stokes. I want to know what I've got and who I am." After that, Brass just leaned back and didn't even ask any more questions.

The shit hit the fan when Nick turned in his resignation back in Dallas. Within 35 minutes, his cell phone was ringing with first his mom, then his sister followed by his only brother and then, the big kahuna himself; Judge Stokes. He ignored them all.

After shift, he went home, changed into jeans and t-shirt, threw up again and headed for the old homestead to face the music. It was not pleasant.

Nick took it all and tried to explain his position. He was getting angrier and angrier. Good God almighty, you'd think the man would be proud that his son didn't want to ride his coat tails and wanted to prove himself but no; all Stokes senior could see was that his youngest offspring who had always been biddable and obedient was defying him to his face and he was not going to allow that. When the elder Stokes finally yelled at his son that he was going to call Las Vegas and let them know he wasn't taking the job, that was the last straw for Nick. He jumped up, threw his napkin down on his plate, (it wasn't like he'd eaten anything anyway) and told his father loudly and plainly that he had no intention of staying in Dallas and mating with some Texas brood mare hand picked by his father to produce more Stokes to uphold the family name. If his dad called Las Vegas, he knew he could do that and Nick knew he couldn't stop him, but if he did, he, Nick was leaving not just Texas but the United States and he would never see or speak to anyone in his family again. He turned to go and got as far as the door when his mother's anguished cry stopped him.

She turned to Judge Stokes and asked him if being right was so important that he was willing to lose his youngest son, her baby boy; because if it was, then he was going to lose his wife too. Judge Stokes was stubborn not stupid. He knew his wife had a will to equal his and Nick was her favorite. Hell if he was honest, he would admit that Nick was his favorite too. That was why he was so determined that Nick would carry on and make a name for himself. He gave in.

Nick sat back down at the table and they all began to talk about datelines and how long he had and of course, his mother and sisters immediately started planning a huge going away party. Nick resisted the urge to lay his head in his plate and cry. He knew every available female in Texas would be at that party in a last ditch attempt to change his mind.

**************************************** ******************

Living in Las Vegas was like moving to another planet. Nick had never felt so much like a fish out of water. Of course, no one knew that. He put on such a good front. He came across as the most laid back, easy going, good natured, eager-to-learn country boy you'd ever hope to meet. Nick was so successful because he really was easy-going and good-natured and lord knows he was eager to learn. What he wasn't, was a good-ole-country boy. Nick as we have already established was smart and confused and conflicted.

It was during his third week on the job that Nick was assigned to a DB in an alley behind a club called 'alterna'. Jim rode with Nick in his lab assigned Denali to the crime scene. He asked Nick if he'd heard of the club and Nick gave Jim his biggest and brightest smile and said, no he wasn't really a night club sort of person. He liked C&W bars where you could wear your jeans and boots and get a good, cold long neck but he figured these Vegas clubs were out of his league. Jim chuckled and told Nick that this one was for sure out of his league. Nick's good looks had caused a sensation when he started full time and even though he'd only been on the job for a little over two weeks, it was no secret that he'd already had 3 dates and lord only knows how many propositions. When Nick gave him a puzzled "HUH" face, Jim told him 'alterna' was a gay bar. The name was short for 'Alternative' as in alternative life style.

They got to the scene, headed around back where the body was waiting for the CSI's and the coroner. Nick got his camera out and began taking his body shots. At first appearance, it looked as though it was a simple 'fag attack' gone really, really bad. The body was that of a young Caucasian male. From what Nick could see he seemed to be well built and it looked as though he was wearing nice clothes. The body was laying face down and Nick was not allowed to touch until after the coroner had pronounced. But Nick noted his pant's were pulled down as were his briefs and he appeared to have streaks of blood on his ass cheeks.

Nick became aware of angry voices behind him. Brass was interrogating the club owner and as usual was making the situation just as bad as he possible could. Instead of asking questions, he was throwing accusations and the club owner was ready to throttle him. Brass always said his style made people nervous and they were more likely to let something slip when they were nervous. Nick found however, that most of them just clammed up and yelled for a lawyer.

He walked over to the irate couple and put a hand on Brass' shoulder. "Captain Brass, why don't you let me speak with this gentleman? I'm only going to have to ask him the same questions again, no need in both of us wasting our time." He gave both men his best 'show the dimples' grin and carefully allowed his body to lean ever so gently into Jim's. Jim, who was one of the most aggressively hetero men Nick had ever met, instantly moved his body away from contact with Nick and effectively away from the club owner.

Brass sort of growled an OK and went to see what was keeping Super Dave. Nick turned to the owner and said, "I'm sorry sir, I didn't hear your name."

The irate owner was already calming down under Nick's calm handling. His gentle non-threatening voice was like pouring lotion on a rash.

"It's Wallace; Roger Wallace. I tried to tell your human ape that this young man was not in my club last night but he didn't want to hear anything I had to say that didn't fit his pre-conceived idea of what this is."

Nick smiled at Wallace' description of Jim as a human ape and said, "Well sir, this is my third week in Las Vegas AND my third week as a CSI. I'm too new to have any pre-conceived ideas so why don't you tell me why you're so sure he wasn't here."

Wallace smiled back at Nick and said, 'Because last night was Thursday and every Thursday I have teen night here. The bar is closed down, only soft drinks are served and no one over 18 is allowed in except the sponsors."

Nick had never heard of anything like that and asked what did he mean sponsors and what was 'teen night'?

Wallace gave Nick an education; a sex education. He told him that he catered to a gay, male crowd but he'd had friends and he'd known so many young men who thought they were different but had no one to help them figure themselves out. The sponsors were officers of the local Gay Liberation Society who invited young teen age men with questions about their sexuality to his club where they could meet other teens and talk with adults about their issues and get some real answers to their questions. Wallace knew the young man had not been at his club because he photographed every single teen along with their ID before they were allowed in the front door.

By then, the coroner's wagon had arrived and Dave was busy examining the body and called Nick to help him turn him over. As Nick turned away, Roger Wallace leaned over and spoke softly into Nick's ear, "We have a real nice group of people here on a regular basis. I've been here a long time and I keep control of my clients. It's mostly 30 to 50 year old professionals like you. I think you'd like it and everyone is very discrete."

Nick was so surprised he didn't even think to tell Wallace he was mistaken about him or ask him why he thought he'd be interested. He went back to his body and worked his scene. 

 

Four nights later, Wallace and his club got a clean bill of health. The young man had been a trainee at a local law firm. He found out purely by accident that one of the law-clerks on the fast track to become a Jr. Partner was padding his time sheets. He'd told the man to stop doing it and he would keep his mouth shut. The clerk, who was sure everyone was as crooked as he was, killed the young man to keep him quiet. He'd not only taken his life, he wanted to ruin his reputation so that if there was the smallest chance he'd said something to anyone, he would be discredited. Every one knew about 'alterna'; it had been a fixture in Las Vegas for the last 5 years which was a long time for a club in Vegas. He thought if he made it look like a quickie in an alley that ending badly, no one would care. He wasn't as smart as he thought he was though. The only way he could figure to make it look as though the guy had been having sex was to rape him with a long neck beer bottle. He hadn't even wiped his fingerprints off the bottle or taken it with him from the scene. He'd just slammed the guy's head into the pavement really hard three times, then jerked his pants down and rammed the bottle up his ass. When he pulled the bottle back out and saw the blood, he'd panicked and ran from the alley throwing the bottle in a dumpster as he fled.
===============================
Nick had Saturday night off and decided to visit the club; just to tell Mr. Wallace he'd been cleared and thank him for his help. He wasn't quite sure why he wore his tightest, lowest cut jeans and a dark red t-shirt that looked like it was his painted skin to deliver the good news. Or, why he'd taken such pains with his shower and grooming; even splashing on some of his very expensive men's cologne. His pants were so tight he couldn't take his wallet so he carefully put $40.00 in assorted bills in his two key pockets, slipped his drivers license in his front pocket, looked himself over and thought briefly about changing the way he normally 'dressed' (over to the left). The pants were so tight he couldn't wear briefs and he'd never been comfortable wearing a thong. He thought that if he got a hard on, the tip of his dick would show above the waist of his jeans and then he blushed a bright red. What the hell was he doing even thinking about getting a hard on while he was telling a former suspect he'd been cleared?
===============================
When Nick got to the club it was just after midnight and the place was packed. He wasn't even sure he was going to get inside but at the last minute he had an idea and asked the bouncer if he would please tell Mr. Wallace that Nick Stokes, the CSI he'd spoken to earlier in the week would like to speak with him. The bouncer just looked at him but evidently it was such an original tactic, he went to do it and within 5 minutes he was back with Roger Wallace right behind him. Wallace smiled at Nick and taking hold of his arm, escorted him through the velvet rope and into the dark club. Nick said he needed to speak with him for a second and Wallace took him back to his office. The noise level was low enough to where they could talk without screaming at each other but even here, the hard driving beat of the drums and basses could be felt. Nick felt the rhythm moving into his blood stream and taking up residence in his body.

He managed to tell Wallace he'd wanted to tell him personally about the resolution to his case. He said he felt he owed it to him after his encounter with Brass. Wallace smiled and asked Nick if that's all he wanted to do. Nick stammered a little and tried to do some posturing but Wallace just told him, he was welcome at his club any time he wanted to come. He would make sure all of his bouncers knew to let him in and if he wanted to do nothing but have a cold beer and listen to some good music, he was more than welcome. Nick hung his head a little and asked, "what if he wanted to do more than drink or listen to music?"

Wallace laughed out loud and said, "Why Mr. Stokes, that's entirely up to you."
***************************************
An hour later, Nick was hot, sweaty and completely relaxed for the first time in ages. The live band was really good. They had been playing for over an hour and as near as Nick could tell, they had never missed a beat. He knew he could dance just to the drums alone without any other instrument but the strings and piano and sax's were part of the whole experience. He'd danced by himself at first but after a very short time, he'd started feeling other bodies moving around him. The bodies brushed against him and retreated and then came back again until now, there was a hard, firm erection grinding against his ass and a sweet, round ass grinding against HIS hard erection. He felt arms come around him from behind and hold him close to a hard body that went well with the erection he felt. He was a little concerned when the arms pushed the body in front of him away. He became more concerned when one of the hands slipped down to his hem and dove under his t-shirt while the other hand slid down below his waist and began to rub against his hard-on. And sure enough, his erection was pushing it's way above the waist band of his jeans. Nick pulled away just a little from the warm, hard body against his back even though he felt a physical pang when he did it. But the arms just held him gently and he felt a face against his cheek and then a deep voice was whispering in his ear, "It's just dancing. It's nothing to be afraid of. I'm not going to try to take you off this floor....unless you want me to of course. But right now, we're just moving our bodies to the beat of the drums. Doesn't it feel good to you?"

Nick nodded; yes it did feel good to him. The nod must have been a signal because the hand under his shirt slid upward and he felt fingers rubbing across first one and then his other nipple. The fingers began nipping and pulling at them and Nick felt his nipples getting hard. He had never thought of his nipples as an erogenous zone. He had always played with his girl friends nipples but he just thought women were sensitive because they breast fed their babies. He sure as Hell wasn't planning on breast feeding a baby but when the deep voice whispered in his ear, "God I wish we were some where private, where I could get rid of this shirt and taste those babies. Nick let out a breathless chuckle; the idea of the man calling his nipples 'babies' after what he had been thinking was funny. He stopped laughing when he felt the man's other hand open his pants and straighten his hard cock. It was sticking proudly above the waistband of his pants now and it was evidently leaking because he felt a hard calloused thumb rub across his slit and then the hand lifted and Nick let out a breathless little moan when he realized the man was going to taste his cum. He turned his head and saw the thumb disappear into a nicely shaped mouth with a full pouty lower lip. He felt his mouth open and his tongue ran across his lips. The man leaned forward and fastened his mouth over Nick's. Nick caught just a hint of his own taste mixed with Jack Daniels in the strange mouth. Then he dropped his head back on the hard shoulder behind him and wiggled his ass against the man's harder than ever cock. That was all it took. The hand went back down to his leaking cock and began to stroke him off. In the mean time, the man took his other hand out of Nick's t-shirt. For a second, Nick didn't know where the hand was; then his wrist was encircled and pulled gently behind him and his hand was placed on a thick, long, throbbing dick. He began to stroke the man's erection. He didn't think for one second about the fact that he was in public, with his pants hanging open, his dick being enthusiastically pumped by a complete stranger. He just felt. For the first time in his life, Nick Stokes did not think about what he looked like or how his actions would be perceived. He just closed his eyes and stroked to the rhythm of the beating drums, his beating heart and the way the stranger was beating his meat. This was not emotion or even lust. This was just down and dirty sex and it was great. He came so hard he knew he spurted his seed on the dancer in front of him and he prayed the guy wouldn't get in any trouble that would require a DNA test on his pants. A fraction of a second later he heard, "Oh God, Oh fuck, Oh God, I just...." Then the voice trailed off and Nick had a handful of semen and it wasn't his.

They stood there in the middle of the club, holding each other up, their bodies still twitching with the force of their release. Finally, his unknown partner leaned forward and said, "We need to get to the toilet and get cleaned up before we get this stuff all over us both."

Nick turned his head and whispered back in the man's ear, "You're bigger than I am. You go first and I'll follow behind you."

The man laughed, turned his head quickly and caught Nick's mouth for one more wet, sloppy, kiss before he asked,"Ready?." Nick nodded yes. The man turned around and started working his way off the floor. Nick let a dancer get between him and his partner and then another. Then he turned and quickly went the other direction to the front entrance to the club. He managed to use his clean hand to fasten his top button and sort of wrapped his dripping hand in the bottom of his shirt. He got through the door, out into the parking lot and once he was out of the bright security lights, he pulled his t-shirt off and wiped himself down completely. He started to throw the shirt away and then remembered that this place had been a crime scene once and it could be again. He wouldn't like to have his shirt show up in an evidence bag covered in someone else's semen.

Nick drove home shirtless with his pants unbuttoned to keep from getting his own cum all over the fly. He was very careful. The last thing he needed right then was to get pulled over for anything with his fly open and his shirt on the seat beside him and he knew the reek of semen was thick enough to cut. After all he had his load all over his pants and the stranger's all over his shirt. Not the best scenario for a brand new CSI. Nick made it home safely, disposed of his shirt and pants, took a scalding hot shower and fell in bed and slept for hours.
===============================
He spent all his free time at work for the next few weeks, researching gay bars in and around Las Vegas. If anyone questioned him about his activities he smiled his big open smile and said he was trying to familiarize himself with different areas of Las Vegas. He was having trouble getting around the town and he wanted to make sure he would always be able to get to his crime scenes by the most direct route.

He could not believe these people were so easy to fool. Even Grissom smiled approvingly and congratulated him on his initiative. When he had compiled his list, he made copies of all the areas, took them home and using clear contact paper, he sealed the maps. He made a calendar and figured out how he could go out at least twice a week and never hit the same club for a minimum of 2 months. He was pretty sure if he kept a low profile and didn't call attention to himself; no one would ever remember him after a space of 60 days.

He knew he was putting himself in danger on so many levels but the tension releasing thrill he'd gotten from his encounter at 'alterna' was too exhilarating to give up. He made a list of every bad thing that could happen on one side of a piece of paper and then a cautionary habit he could acquire to offset the danger. After careful evaluation, he realized that keeping himself in top physical condition was a must. He also had to be very careful about his drinking; which wouldn't be hard. This was not about tying one on it was all about getting himself off. So he contrived a plan and he never deviated from the plan. He would go to a different place, order one beer, always a bottled or canned beer which he had the barkeep open right in front of him. He never left his seat until he had finished his bottle of beer. He would take no chance of anyone slipping something in his drink. His second bottle depended solely on how his day had gone. Sometimes he needed one and sometimes he needed the physical release more. He wore old clothes, one size too small. He bought his jeans and t-shirts at army surplus or consignment shops and disposed of them after each encounter. He never took more than $40.00 dollars, always in cash and small bills, not even a twenty. The last step was the creation of a false Nevada driver's license. The only thing Nick had not counted on was his own presence. Even after a 60 days absence, some people remembered him. He was a gorgeous man and it was hard to forget him. Especially if you'd been on the dance floor with him and experienced his kisses and hand jobs first hand. After the first year, Nick limited himself to just once a week out BUT he started carrying condoms and taking his partners to the back rooms in the clubs where things went much further than a simple hand job.

This was Nick's secret life. It kept him sane. It kept him in control. He only changed his pattern twice; once after Crane and again after Gordon. After he healed from Crane, he went on a binge. He had sex every time he went out and sometimes two different partners in one night. He indulged himself; he gorged himself on pricks. He fucked until he was too limp to remember haw terrified he was when the body fell through his ceiling followed by a nut case named Nigel Crane.

After the 'burial' incident, Nick went slightly crazy. He went out to some clubs he would never have gone near before. Places where the rules were more lenient and just barely there. Places where he could pick out 2 or 3 guys who interested him and take them back to a room where he could line them up and fuck them in order, one after the other. Or, one or two strokes in one convenient hole and then out and on to the next with a tip of $50.00 to the owner of the ass he was in when he lost control and came. For the first time in his life, Nick allowed someone to top him. He would take 3 guys and fuck one while someone topped him and he had a spare prick to suck or jack off if he wanted to. If he had indulged or gorged after Crane, there had to be some new words to describe his actions after Gordon. It took a long time to get to the place where he had his control back.

And then he bought a house. And had a housewarming party. And kissed and fucked Greg. And fell completely apart.

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross's Five Stages of Grief
denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

Greg and Nick slammed their respective doors on Thursday at 3.17 pm. So today, Greg had been stuck in the outer rim of Hell for 8 days, 8 hours and 21 minutes. He was too miserable to even try to compute the seconds. He knew Nick was all ready at work (he always had to be everywhere early) and he was going to their...no, he was going over to Nick's place to pick up his belongings.

He had tried to apologize, to assure Nick that he would scrub and clean every spare moment he had and that he would never ever defile his house again but Nick would not even talk to him. Nick was polite to a fault at work; considerate, never refused to work a case with him and always treated him like a new, CSI 1 he was training. There were times when Greg thought just for a brief second that he was crazy. Maybe he had dreamed the whole last five months because he wanted Nick so badly. This man was a stranger. There had never been even once let alone the hundreds of memories he had of their bodies straining together. He had never taken Nick's dick in his mouth and licked and sucked it until Nick had come down his throat with a strangled scream of desire and satisfaction. He had never seen Nick's face above his, coming closer and closer until his mouth claimed his and he sucked his tongue into his mouth and let Greg's tongue fuck his mouth the way his cock was fucking Greg's ass. Greg was living in a strange off-kilter world called 'Denial' created and occupied by him and Nicholas Stokes. They were the only inhabitants and Greg wanted out of that world before it consumed him and left him a drooling idiot.

The only way out was to acknowledge the end and try to figure out how he was supposed to live with the ugly, bloody hole in his chest where his heart used to be. Step one was to remove every trace of himself from Nick's house.

Greg pulled into Nick's driveway and used his key fob to open the garage door. He had to remember to leave that on the kitchen table when he got his stuff. As the door opened, he saw the immaculate garage. Nick's garage would put most people's kitchens to shame. Every tool was either in its labeled drawer, or lying on its properly marked shelf or hanging on the peg boards where each screw-driver and wrench, was carefully outlined in black marker. The only items out of place were some boxes and a couple of garbage sacks on one side.

Greg got a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He walked over and opened one of the bags and saw his clothes. He looked in one of the boxes and it was full of his personal care products. He wondered if he could even get in the house but was surprised to find the back door was unlocked. He swallowed his tears and hopes and walked into the place he had not only called home but felt deep in his soul was his home and the one place on this planet where he was meant to be.

The house smelled of Orange Glo and bleach and laundry detergent. There was not a single item out of place in the kitchen. He opened the dishwasher; it was empty. Nothing in the sink, not even a spoon. Greg thought of his own kitchen back at the apartment and for one, brief moment compared the two places. He really came out on the losing end on that one.

He walked on into the living room. Again, absolutely nothing out of place. No magazines or papers on the coffee table. No messages on the message board above the phone, not even a pencil lying out. He went on through to the master suite; it was the same. He opened the two drawers that had been his since he moved in with Nick. The drawers now held Nick's collection of football jerseys and workout/running clothes. Of course they were laundered and folded so perfectly there would be no wrinkles when he pulled one out. He opened the closet. It was perfectly ordered; short sleeve shirts arranged by color followed by long sleeve shirts arranged by color followed by casual slacks and then dress and so on.

There was not one single item anywhere in the closet or bedroom to suggest that Greg Sanders ever existed let alone lived with and loved the occupant of that space. The bathroom was the same. In that moment, every single hope, no matter how faint or remote died. Greg realized that Nick had completely wiped him out of his life and based on the way he treated him at work, his memory.

Greg headed for home. That wasn't the word for 4 walls that enclosed a space where he ate, slept and changed clothes. He'd had a home. He knew a home was a place where there were arms to hold you close and lips to kiss away your cares and someone to make you laugh and share cold soda's and hot coffee with. He didn't have that anymore. He pulled the car over into a convenient grocery store parking lot, put his head down on the steering wheel and gave into the sobs that had been choking him for longer than he wanted to remember.

Greg had no idea how long he'd been sitting there in his car. It was a while. His eyes were grainy and sore from the tears he'd shed. He had snot pouring out of his nose. He looked around his car but while he could find all sorts of sacks from various fast food places, none of them had a napkin left, used or otherwise. He did find a stale, warm bottle of water under the passenger seat. He took a few sips and kept on looking. Finally he reached into the back seat, opened one of the garbage bags (now wasn't that appropriate. Nick had put his stuff in garbage bags sort of like he had discarded Greg) and pulled out a dirty t-shirt. He blew his nose violently until he'd cleared all the gunk out and then used another part of the t-shirt to wipe his face off. He found one last relatively clean part and poured water on the t-shirt and wiped his face again. When he got through, he sat up and pulled the rear view mirror down to look at himself. He was horrified to see the sad, lost face staring back at him. How had he let himself get into this condition?

Greg flipped the mirror back into position, started the car and as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed for his apartment, he swore to himself he would never allow a breakdown like this to happen to him again.

Greg lugged the last of the boxes and bags up to his place. He dumped the bags of clothes out on the floor in a corner of his bedroom and quickly picked out underwear, towels and sheets. He grabbed his detergent, fabric softener, cell phone and his Game Boy and headed for the laundry room.

He got two of the machines chugging away and sat down to compose himself and play some games but his usual coping methods couldn't handle the black hole his mind had become. He knew, as a scientist, he needed to understand what had happened; how things had gone so bad so fast.

They had only been together five months but they had been friends and co-workers for seven years. They should have had all the little stuff that sidetracks most couples out of the way. They enjoyed each other in and out of bed. The sex had been, well, Greg couldn't quite describe the emotions he had when Nick made love to him. Even those odd moments when Nick had been rough with him were over the top because afterward, Nick seemed to be horrified at what he had done and he would clean Greg and put Neosporin on the bite marks, especially where he had broken the skin and caused the blood to flow. He would carefully insert medicated ointment to care for the tears in his rectum and he would insist that they not have anal sex until Greg was completely healed. Greg was not a masochist by any means but those moments when Nick lavished such tender care on him were worth whatever pain he might have experienced before. And to be honest, most of the time he was in such a state of arousal he didn't even know how rough Nick was until after it was over and he was coming down from his endorphin high.

So, did it all come down to the house? Was that what had ruined a perfect relationship and if that really was the problem, why didn't Nick just tell him, "Hey, Greg I love you but I can't live with someone as slobby as you? Clean up your act or we are going to have to rethink this." God knows if Nick had ever really talked to him, he would have moved heaven and earth to make him happy. Cleaning the house wasn't that big a deal!

"Oh yeah, then why didn't you do it? You knew that last time it was bugging him. Why did you go out with Rob and the guys when you had promised the man you claim you love more than anything that you would clean up his home?" Greg usually enjoyed arguing with himself; he was such good company but this time, it was painful and he did not want to start crying again in public. But the ache in his gut told him, he was onto something. No matter how much it hurt, he had to keep going.

"OK, why did you deliberately provoke him on so many occasions? You knew going into the affair he was house proud. Good God as many hours as you worked on that house with him, you knew he was a perfectionist and everything had to be perfect."

"Yeah, I knew that but I figured once we got together, he would have something else to concentrate on (ME) and would stop fixating on the house."

"Oh good lord Greg, that's so gay! You sound just like a female. You get the guy and immediately expect him to change. Did you ever tell him that he was coming across as OCD about the house?"

"Frankly I was more interested in using my mouth for other things than talking about the damn house."

"So, in other words, you and Nick were working on a long term relationship you both supposedly wanted and you pretty much just thought about the sex, which according to you, worked from the beginning. Do I have it straight?"

Greg sat up straight. That was true. It was so true. He felt like an idiot. He grabbed his cell phone, checked the time real quick and then dialed Bobby Dawson.

"Bobby, its Greg. Do you have a few minutes to answer some questions for me? No it's not about a case. It's about basic rules for gay couples. You do. Oh not right now. WHEN? Sure I can meet you for breakfast. It's about 6.30am right now. I'll see you at the RoadHouse Eats at 8.15am. Thanks Again!"

Greg had rushed back up to his apartment to grab a notepad and pencils and went back down to baby sit his laundry while he thought about what he wanted to ask Bobby. By the time his stuff was washed and dried and he got it back up to his place and literally ran through the shower and changed, he was just barely late for breakfast. He had almost 3 pages of questions.

He skidded into the diner and by dodging around a few slow customers, dropped into the chair across from Bobby only 5 minutes late. Bobby just grinned at him and told him he'd already ordered coffee for him. The waitress came back with their coffee and menus. Greg had not eaten much of anything for the last 8 days but suddenly he was starving. He was ready to lick the stains on the menus. He ordered blueberry pancakes, a side of sausage and another of bacon and some hash browns.

Bobby raised his eyebrow's, shook his head and grinned at the waitress as he gave his somewhat more restrained order for eggs over easy, ham and toast with tomato juice. Greg had felt his stomach rumble softly when he said 'blue' and by the time Bobbie's order was taken, his stomach was in a full rolling growl. The waitress grinned at him and told him she'd put a rush on his order before he tried to eat the napkin holder.

In order to forget (and ignore) his obnoxious stomach, Greg got his pad and pencils out and got ready to be enlightened.

Ninety minutes later, his fingers were cramped from taking copious notes, his head was spinning and he realized he and Nick had been beyond stupid when they started together. Bobby had tried to make him feel better by telling him that most guys never gave a second thought to the things they had been talking about because most gay's just sort of fell into a long-time thing. It was very rare that 'love at first sight' occurred in the gay community. Greg told him he appreciated him trying to make him feel better but he and Nick had known from the beginning that they wanted a long-term thing. Yeah, a lot of the items on his list would have not been appropriate for them at that time; like wills for example or combining bank accounts or changing names on deeds but things like setting each other up as primary medical notification, deciding what bills were going to be split, what did Nick expect from Greg regarding living expenses and especially; Bobby put a lot of emphasis on 'ESPECIALLY' domestic duties or as Bobby put it.....Who does what and when?

Bobby asked Greg if he had ever paid Nick anything towards food or utilities and when he said no, Bobby just shook his head and said, "Jesus Greg, you mean you've been free-loading off Nick for almost 5 months and haven't even offered to split an electric bill? You do realize I'm your friend and even to me that comes across as pretty selfish on your part."

Greg's angry response that he'd kept his own apartment and he was paying rent there really didn't fly with Bobby.

"Did you sleep there, eat there, do your laundry there, play your video games, listen to CD's, watch TV?" Greg sheepishly shook his head no, he'd done all that at Nick's for the last glorious 5 months. "Then you've been free-loading off Nick and if the two of you are having problems, I'll bet that's at the top of the list."

Greg shrugged and said, no, that wasn't at the top of the list; Nick's God Damned House was at the top of the list. Bobby glared at his friend. He reached over and took the tablet out of Greg's hands and told him to forget the damn list....start talking.

Greg knew Bobby wouldn't judge either him or Nick and he wouldn't pull any punches. He was talking to the one person in the world who would tell him the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. He talked. And talked. And talked. At one point Bobby raised his hands and made a time out. He had to call Steve, his partner. Greg said he'd go to the john while he did that. When he got back, there were two glasses of milk and some cinnamon rolls sitting at their table and his waitress told him, his friend said to drink some milk, lay off any more coffee and he'd be right back.

Bobby came back, told Greg Steve said for him to stay there until he bled him dry and ordered him to drink some milk and continue. Two hours later, Greg was hoarse and Bobby was almost speechless. Greg was also beginning to realize some cold, hard facts; facts he didn't want to realize.

Bobby had been silent for a good five minutes and to some one like Greg that was unbearable. He started twice to say something but Bobby just put his hand up and shook his head. Greg got the message; shut up, I'm thinking.

At long last, he cleared his throat and started talking himself. He told Greg he had no intention of telling him what to do. Every set of problems was unique to the person or persons having the problems. He wanted to clarify some things Greg had said AND he wanted to tell Greg what had stood out for him during his brain core dump.

First, he asked why no one at work had a clue that he and Nick were a couple. Greg said Nick didn't want anyone to know. Bobby asked him what he, Greg, had thought about that. Greg replied he had no problem with people knowing, Hell he wanted to take out ads and hire planes to fly overhead with banners. The idea that someone like Nick Stokes was in love with him should have been shouted from the top of every casino in town.

Then Bobby asked how he knew Nick loved him. That took another 30 minutes of arguing and at the end of it, a completely defeated Greg had to admit; Nick had never said the words. Not once! He did stress that Nick had told him that very first night that he was not interested in a one-night quickie. He wanted long-term. Bobby nodded thoughtfully.

"And during this 5 month period, according to your own words, you had 2 drawers in the chest in his bedroom, right? What about your hanging clothes?" Greg said he didn't keep too many hanging clothes at Nick's, just one change of good stuff in case they wanted to go out and one set for work if he got called in. "And this was the way things went for the whole five months you were together?" Yes.

"What about books, DVD's, CD's? Where did you keep those?"

Well, there were no CD's; Nick couldn't stand his music and if he wanted to watch a DVD that Nick didn't have, he brought it from the apartment and took it back after. Books he could put on a shelf in the family room if his name was not on the title plate.

"You said you found your stuff in the garage. Why did you go in through the garage? Did you think Nick changed the security alarm?"

No, he'd never had a key to the house. He had a little thing Nick called a key-fob. It opened the garage door, he pulled his car into the garage and then went into the house through the back door.

Bobby dropped his head in his hands and started shaking it slowly. "Good Sweet Jesus, Sanders. You're pathetic, you know it? What the hell happened to the smart, cocky kid who used to make a presentation while wearing a Vegas show girls head dress? Did you two fuck so much your brains turned to shit and dribbled out your ass? Good God Almighty. I don't know who I'm maddest at right now; you or Stokes. I'll tell you one thing. You two deserve each other. He's a self-righteous, judgmental, autocratic prick and you're a dumb, noodle-headed wimp."

Greg's mouth was hanging open. He had never seen Bobby Dawson this angry in the entire time he'd known him. Nor had he ever heard him say anything close to the stuff he'd just thrown out at him. Greg tried to defend himself but he was back where he was the afternoon Nick had yelled at him and told him to keep his hands off him. The rules had changed and no one had told him.

He asked Bobby why he was so mad. Bobby gave him a completely astounded look and said, " You freaking idiot, someone has to be mad and you obviously haven't got a brain cell left that knows that. This man, I can't even begin to call him Nick; he's not the Nick Stokes I've worked with for the last seven years."

Greg interrupted him quickly, "I swear to you Bobby, I didn't lie about anything and I tried to remember everything that happened and tell it honestly."

"I'm not saying you lied Greg. I'm saying this guy has a split personality. He told you he wanted a long term relationship, you and he had a passionate night of love-making, in theory, you moved in right then and you've been in his house and in his bed ever since...well up to the breakup 8 days ago. Is that right?"

Greg nodded, Yeah that was it in a nutshell.

"In all that time, he never told nor did he allow you to tell one single person you were together." Greg nodded again.

"While the two of your are working on this 'long term' relationship, you had 2 drawers in the chest in the bedroom, you were only allowed to keep 2 changes of clothes at his house, you had to enter what was by all rights your home, through the back door." Greg had cringed when he literally could see the 'air quotes' around the 'long term' but he nodded again.

"So let me say it again. He's a self-righteous, judgmental, autocratic prick and you're a dumb, noodle-headed wimp."

Elisabeth Kubler-Ross's Five Stages of Grief
denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

I think we've pretty well established by now that Greg is a smart guy. He has a capacity for learning new things that is pretty astonishing but he has never, ever, not ever learned as much as he has in the last 5 weeks; mostly about himself. He also isn't psychic. If he were, he would know that he would be strongly influenced, literally influenced for life, by 3 special men. Bobby Dawson was just the first.

First, he learned what a rock Bobby Dawson was. If you put his partner Steve with him and they decided they liked you; man you had the Rocky Mountains for back-up. Bobby was like John Wayne toilet paper; rough and tough and didn't take no shit off nobody.

When Greg got to work that night after his 'breakfast' with Bobby, he felt like he'd gone 9 rounds with the Spanish Inquisition and believe me, the score was Spain 9, Sanders zero. He was somewhat afraid to see Bobby again. He had made no bones about his feelings about the whole Stokes/Sanders soap opera so Greg was really taken by surprise when Dawson marched into the break room, grabbed Greg by the arm and drug him down the hall to ballistics. He shut the door, sat Greg down and handed him a business card.

"What or who is this?"

"That's someone who specializes in couple's therapy and I don't just mean straight couples."

"Well, in case you weren't there this morning and it was your evil twin, there is no couple any more."

"Do you ever want or expect to be a 'couple' again?"

"I would like that, yes."

"Then you better get your shit together. You and Nick both made so many mistakes in this whole thing I don't know where to start. But this guy does AND he will help you to change your wicked, wicked ways so you don't make the same mistakes again. And maybe, just maybe if you really pay attention, you won't make different mistakes the next time around."

"What difference is it gonna make if it's just me going to see him. Doesn't Nick need to be there too?"

"Greg, I'm only goin' to say this once. You can't be responsible for anyone's behavior in this whole wide world except your own. Are you telling me you won't be a 'couple' with anyone but Nick ever again? Cause if that's what you're sayin' then I'm not wasting any more time on you. You're not only a dumb, noodle-headed wimp, you're a cowardly one as well."

Greg looked sadly at this man he was beginning to realize just might be his best friend in the whole world and said, "He's all I've thought of or dreamed of for the last seven years Bobby. I can't just say, 'Oh well, too bad, I'll just find someone new.' There just isn't anyone like Nick. He was everything I wanted and the worst thing of all was that when we did get together, he was better than any dream or fantasy I'd ever had."

Greg looked down at Bobby's desk and tried to keep himself from falling apart at work. He was so close to just going into a dark closet and crying like a baby. The only thing stopping him, was the memory of the way he had looked the day before when he had given in to the tears and misery. That and the promise he had made to himself that he would not break down like that again. Once was enough.

Greg hunched his shoulders waiting for Bobby to rip him a new one. He almost jumped out of his skin when he felt a big, rough, warm hand wrap itself around his and a soft voice telling him it was going to be OK. No one expected him to just move on like nothing had happened.

Bobby's other hand gripped Greg's shoulder in what was almost a hug. "Greg, Steve and me will be there for you when ever you need us and probably quite a few times when you don't. But for your own sake, you need to figure out what went so wrong when every thing was there for it to be so right. Yeah, I've cussed Nick pretty bad, but buddy, this wasn't your finest hour either. And it's pretty obvious that you don't even realize what you did wrong let alone Nick."

Greg looked up at Bobby and asked plaintively, "Can't I talk to you and Steve? Why do I have to go to some stranger and spill my guts?"

Bobby rubbed his shoulder and shook him a little and laughed, "Because he's a stranger and he's not going to take sides. Now, are you going to call him?"

When Greg said, yes he would call him, Bobby pushed his phone over to Greg, grinned his sweet, charming grin and said, "OK cowboy, let's take the bull by the horns and get you back up on this bad boy."

Greg looked at him, shook his head, grabbed the card and started pushing buttons. "Sheesh, enough with the redneck platitudes already."

=============================

Dr. Alan Perkins was the second man Greg met who was going to make a difference in his life even though Greg didn't know it at the time.

He could see immediately why Bobby was so high on this man. They had twin personalities. Neither one was afraid to speak their mind and they took no prisoners and they sure as hell didn't give out any 'get out of jail free' cards. They both expected you to accept responsibility for your own actions. Although Dr. Perkins was willing to give you some time to realize how bad your actions were.

After the first visit Greg felt like he'd been put through a wood chipper. Somewhere around the 40 minute mark, he glared at Perkins and asked, "What ever happened to the scenario where the doc just sits there and waits for the patient to open up?"

Perkins glared right back and said, "Yeah we can do that. I wouldn't mind taking the whole family to Europe for an extended vacation but do you have the money or the time for it? Bobby said you were hurting pretty bad. I thought you wanted help, I didn't realize you wanted to wallow for a while."

Greg was furious. "I do not want to wallow. But good Jesus Christ, I just got everything I wanted in the whole world handed to me on a silver platter and then 5 months later it was all taken back. I don't know what I did, what I didn't do, what I should have done and most of all, I don't know how I can live the rest of my life knowing I had heaven in my hands and then it was gone." Greg was yelling but he didn't realize that tears were rolling down his cheeks too.

Perkins nodded. He was pleased with himself. He'd gotten Greg to express emotion which he had not been doing for the previous 40 minutes. He'd just been giving him one syllable answers and no hint of his feelings. The good doctor could tell the man was hurting much worse than any physical pain could cause. He needed to get down to that hurt and lance the boil so to speak.

"That's a good start. You just told me what your problem was and is. Now we can start working on it. How often can you come in?'

Greg looked at him and tried to keep up with Dr. Perkins rapidly changing moods. "Huh, how much do you charge?"

"Normally, I charge $150.00 an hour. For members of law enforcement, it's $120.00 but for Bobby, it will be $100.00 an hour. I would like to see you 3 times a week and yes I realize that's $1200.00 a month BUT I will be willing to accept $125.00 a month until it's paid off and I won't charge you any interest. Can you do that?"

Greg was numb at that point and said yeah, he could do that. He reminded Perkins that he worked the graveyard shift and if they had a lot of crime, he worked double and triple shifts. Perkins told him he was used to working with people in the legal profession and he would be flexible. The only thing he wouldn't be was willing to listen to any shit, or evasions or reason's why Greg couldn't see him that didn't involve blood (his or someone else's) mayhem (his or someone else's) or serial killers and if he had a serial killer, the good doctor wanted all the gory details. Greg didn't realize when he said yeah and later when he wrote the first check that he had just agreed to a process that made the debriding he'd gone through when he was burned, seem like a loving caress.

**************************************** ********

Greg met the 3rd man in his life about 2 weeks into his de-construction at the loving hands of Dr. Perkins. He was called out to a simple B & E in one of the older, better neighborhoods in Las Vegas. The home owner, an elderly man named Roger Emerson, was sitting outside on the porch when he got there. He introduced himself and the officer at the scene told Greg, he'd had Mr. Emerson wait outside because there seemed to be a lot of broken glass and he knew they weren't supposed to disturb the scene. Greg told him to just take it easy if he was comfortable and he'd do a preliminary walk through. Then he would need him to go through the house with him and tell him what was missing.

It's a good thing Greg was being polite to a sweet, old gentlemen. His care kept Mr. Emerson from seeing his wife lying dead on the kitchen floor. Greg called the uniform in and told the husband it would be a few more minutes, he just needed to verify some protocol issues. He asked the officer when he'd gotten the call. Just 35 minutes before. Had the husband been home. No, he'd come home after a morning at the park playing speed chess, opened the door, found the mess and went to the neighbor's house to call it in.

Dead people weren't Greg's area of expertise but it was pretty obvious that Mrs. Emerson had been dead for several hours. He called in a change from a simple B & E to a 419, requested a coroner and went to tell Mr. Emerson that he was now a widower.

**************************************** *********

As cases went, the Emerson robbery was pretty straight forward, Fifty two hours later, Greg had identified the killer, Brass and company had picked him up and he was whining his way through a confession in one of the interrogation rooms. It wasn't even an interesting motive. Just a punk who heard some kids talking about this old guy who taught them chess in the park 3 times a week and what a nice house he and his wife had. The punk equated 'nice house' with money and stuff to rip off so he casually asked the kids when they had their lessons, he would like to watch. When they told him one was coming up the next morning, the punk went to rob the house while the old dude was playing chess in the park.

Greg had never decided which was worse; deliberate, targeted killings or the ones where the victim was just collateral damage. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time and got between a piece of trash and some bling-bling the trash decided it wanted. That's what Mrs. Emerson was; collateral damage. She was supposed to be at her quilting club but they would be celebrating their 60th wedding anniversary that week-end and she had decided on an open-house for all the kids they had taught over the years. She and Mr. Emerson were both retired teachers. She was home, cleaning the house and getting it ready. On any other Friday except this one she would have left the house at 8:45 am to get to the club meeting by 9.00am. The ladies, quilted, gossiped and then had lunch at 12.00 noon. She should not have been home until after her husband had completed his chess instruction that morning.

During the course of the investigation, Greg had spent a lot of time with Mr. Emerson. He had married his Jenny when he was 18 and she was 15. He said it was ironic, they had told her folks she was with child in order to get them to let them get married. Greg interrupted and said, "With Child?"

Mr. Emerson laughed and said, "Young man, back in those days you did not use the word 'pregnant' when addressing the parents of your young lady." Greg asked what was ironic. The smile faded from the old man's face. "Jenny couldn't have children. She never even had a false alarm in 60 years and we both wanted kids so much. But I guess God always knows what he's doing because in the long run, that's what made us become teachers and foster parents. We had dozens and dozens of kids."

Greg asked him which one of them was rich or was it both of them.

"What ever makes you think we're rich?"

"Well, your house, your furniture. This is a really beautiful place and everything looks so expensive."

The old man coughed and Greg could tell he was fighting not to cry. "You know the old saying about not having a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of? Well that was us. Her folks gave permission so there would be no scandal but they threw her out. My folks were just dirt poor but they let us stay in the hay loft out in the barn. We had some odds and ends of pots, dishes and a few eating utensils and Jenny's folks did let her take her hope chest with her so we had some blankets and quilts but that was it. We used bales of hay for chairs and a table and even the bed we slept on. And we were happy. Lord we were so happy. We had each other and as far as we were concerned, that was riches beyond our wildest dreams."

By this point, Greg was fighting not to cry. He thought briefly about his own situation and then ruthlessly shoved it all down. He was listening to someone else's story.

"Jenny worked at the big, fancy hotel in town cleaning after the rich people who stayed there. They were redecorating one of the rooms and there was this old table that got damaged and they were going to throw it out. Jenny asked if she could have it and they gave it to her. I was good with my hands; still am in fact. Dad and I took the old pick-up down, got the table, my god it was heavy and brought it back. I fixed the broken top and cut the legs down a little to get rid of the rot in them and we used it in our loft to eat off, read and do our school work."

"One day, I came in and threw something down on the table, I don't even remember what now. Jenny was angry with me. The one and only time she ever got that mad at me. She swept my stuff off the table, it was dirty and oily and she told me we might be living in a hay loft but we weren't animals. I said it was just an old table we'd picked up in an alley. She said it might have started out that way, but I'd spent 8 hours fixing it and she'd spent a lot longer than that cleaning it. I looked down at the bare place where she'd knocked my stuff off and that table was beautiful. Under the dirt and old paint and God only knows what else was on there, it was walnut; pure, solid walnut. Jenny had been working on it in every spare moment she had with some pumice and a mixture of mineral oil and turpentine. I learned my lesson right then and there. You never know where you are going to find a treasure and you may find it under layers of dirt and filth. You have to be willing to work for that treasure and if you get it, you treat it with love and respect for all the years you have it."

Greg knew while listening the Mr. Emerson that there was a reason why he'd felt such sympathy and affection for this proud old man. He was meant to teach Greg a valuable lesson. "Do you still have the table" he asked.

"We sure do. It's the one in the entry hall just beside the door. And the mirror above it; I made that from the leaf I took out of the table when we made it into a console."

Greg remembered the table and the mirror. They were spectacular. They glowed with a light that only came from decades of polishing and they were carved with vines and leaves. He asked the old man if he'd done the carving. He said he sure had and it had taken him weeks to get the vines just the way Jenny wanted them.

Four weeks later, the table and mirror, along with a box and a letter were delivered to Greg's apartment. Mr. Emerson had waited until Jenny's killer had been found and he knew his love would get her justice then he carefully mixed a cocktail of pain-killers and nausea controlling agents. He wrote several letters and then took his pills with a good stiff Jack Daniels and coke and lay down in the bed he had shared with his beloved Jenny and quietly joined his love.

Greg did not work his suicide but Ronnie the new girl and Warrick did. When Ronnie found the letters Mr. Emerson had left, she handed them to Warrick. He took one look at the one addressed to Greg and said a silent 'Oh Fuck'. That's all they needed, more controversy right now. The whole lab was still reeling from the Grissom/Sidle fiasco and this just wasn't the time for anything else.

As it turned out, it could have been much worse but one of the letters was to Mr. Emerson's attorney who turned out to be one of his kids. He had talked at length about his wishes and how he wanted his estate settled and then he and his foster son had carefully drawn up the papers and filed them. When the attorney showed up in Conrad Ecklie's office, accompanied by the Sheriff and one of the councilmen, (who was also one of the Emerson's foster kids) it was all over and no shouting. The distinguished lawyer made it very clear that the small gift he'd bequeathed to Greg could not possibly be construed in any way, shape or form as a bribe. It was a gift from a grateful citizen to a member of the law enforcement community in thanks for the courtesy they had been shown. It was agreed that the table, mirror, box and letter (the latter two unopened) would be delivered to CSI Sanders apartment by an independent carrier and there would be no further involvement by any one present at that meeting.

************************************

When the movers left, Greg sat down and tried to get the sound of the theme from the Twilight Zone out of his head. This was just plain fuckin' freaky. He and Alan, Dr. Perkins had been dropped around visit 5, had been working for almost 2 weeks on possessions and their meaning and their place in a relationship. Greg had almost died of shame when he realized that he was jealous of Nick's house and its contents and the fact that Nick spent time on the house and contents that Greg wanted spent on him. He had deliberately treated Nick's possessions with contempt and disdain. He'd made fun of Nick's 'Martha Stewart' moments. He didn't actually say 'Fuck you and your new couch too' out loud but eating in the living room and letting food get on the couch and the coffee table were just a physical demonstration of the words. Alan had asked him if there wasn't anything of his that he felt a strong attachment to and Greg had insisted there was not. It was just furniture, he got attached to people not pieces of wood.

Now he was sitting there looking at a gorgeous table that glowed with the love lavished on it for sixty long years and he felt such pride that this beautiful thing was his that he just wanted to go over there and rub his hands over the smooth top and down the graceful curved legs and feel the vines and leaves that looked as though they were growing right out of the wood. He had read the letter as soon as the men left. Mr. Emerson told him how much he'd appreciated Greg's treatment of him and his wife. He wished Greg had known his Jenny. He knew they would have loved each other. Every one loved his Jenny. He wanted Greg to have the table because he'd taken the time to listen to a sad, tired old man talk about times and places that were long gone everywhere but in his mind. He told Greg,his dying wish was that he would find a love as strong as he had with his wife. Greg cried. He hadn't cried in weeks but he cried then.

He opened the box, Inside was a silver vase. Greg had seen enough silver in his Nana's house to know this was the real stuff, He turned the vase over; sure enough there was the mark that said this was Galmer and it was .925 Solid Sterling Silver.
A delicate dragonfly hovered over a spray of flowers. Greg knew this little 8 inches of solid weight in his hands was easily worth over a thousand dollars. He remembered seeing the vase sitting on the table in the Emerson entry. There were other treasures in the box; Waterford candle sticks and an exquisitely carved wooden box inset with mother of pearl.

Greg found the letter from the lawyer and called the number on the letterhead. He was put through at once when he gave the secretary his name. He heard the low measured tones he heard before when the lawyer had called him to tell him his foster father had taken his own life.

"Mr. Sanders, I hope the table and other items were delivered safely."

"Yes they were but I just opened the box that you sent with the table and mirror. Did you pack the box sir?"

"No, my dad told me he was packing a small box for you that was to be delivered along with the table. Please don't tell me something was broken?" There was worry for the first time in the soft, cultured voice.

"No, Mr. Barton, everything is in perfect condition but you need to know that at least one of the items in the box is pretty valuable and it's possible your dad might not have known what he was giving me."

"Oh you must mean the Galmer vase. Yes, I'm sure it's over $800.00 by now."

"Well, actually sir, it's more like over a thousand. My Nana loved silver and I got a good education growing up in her home. This vase is very expensive and I think he would have wanted his kids to have it."

There was a long moment of silence and then Mr. Barton said, "You're quite right Greg and as far as my father was concerned, one of his kids does have it. My foster brothers and sisters want you to have the things because our dad wanted you to have them. You were there for him in a way none of us could have been and we will always be grateful." There was another moment of silence and then with a small chuckle, Mr. Barton added, "You know you're part of the family now. Keep in touch Bro."

Did that cultured well-educated voice just call him BRO? Greg sat down on his couch and laughed 'til his sides ached.

In real life, things have a way of evening out. Right after the breakup, Nick was handling everything and hardly seemed to miss Greg at all. That is, after he got his house back in order. Greg on the other hand was in almost constant emotional pain. Now, after several months, Greg was beginning to get his life together and Nick was....well, Nick wasn't sure what was happening.

In the first month or so after the breakup, Nick had pretty much gone back to his familiar routine. He was a little fussier about his home and his possessions but he felt that was a perfectly logical response to the 5 months of turmoil he'd been through. He concentrated on his job and working on the landscaping on his days off. When he found himself getting somewhat restless about 6 weeks after their split, he decided that he probably needed to resume his club trips. He hadn't gone out once from the moment he kissed Greg for the first time until the present. Of course, when you're living with someone, whether male or female, you're expected to be faithful so that was a given. But he'd gone long enough. With the seasonal increase in crime and these crazy headaches he'd been randomly getting, it was almost 2 months before he finally headed back out to one of his favorite places.

One good thing about his attempt at a serious relationship with Greg was that he'd been away from the club scene for long enough to where he didn't have to worry about being recognized. It was like starting all over again. He was excited about going out. It would be good to go back to the familiar again. To be the 'love 'em and leave 'em' Nick again. He would pick the man he wanted and allow that man to please him as he wished. He wouldn't have to worry about making sure his partner was satisfied, he could just make sure he got what he needed.

Nick decided to go to 'alterna'. It was the place where he'd had his first adventure and it had remained his favorite. He performed his 'pre-club' routine, shower, shave, toothbrush followed by mouthwash and last but not least; an enema. Now he was squeaky clean inside and out. He put on his 'clubbing' uniform. He'd had it in the bottom of his drawer for almost 7 months now and he had forgotten what he'd bought. It turned out to be his usual skin tight, low-cut jeans and a deep emerald green t-shirt. For one brief moment he thought it would be a shame to throw the shirt away when he was through but then, attention to detail and a strict adherance to the plan he'd set up years ago had kept him safe and in control for all these years. The shirt, no matter how pretty, had to go.

Nick got to the club, had his beer according to plan and then headed out onto the dance floor. He waited for the the music and rhythm to take over his body as it always had but it didn't seem to work as well tonight. The beat didn't seem to be as strong and steady as it had in the past and he found himself listening for the misses instead of losing himself as he was supposed to do. One thing hadn't changed; the number of strong, hot, muscular bodies that wanted to rub against him and intice him into scandalous antics on the dance floor. He rubbed back against the hard erection he felt against his butt and then forward against the equally hard erection that was poking into his thigh. He couldn't seem to get the rhythm. Usually it was great to get a solid push/pull thing going. He could have a dick front and back and that's what he was looking for. After an hour of trying during which he just kept getting more and more frustrated, Nick arbitrarily grabbed the guy in front of him; dragged him off the floor to a dark corner and began to hump against him. He vaguely realized the guy was young and slim and blond. He also realized the guy was a lot more vested in what was going on than he was when Blondie reached up and bit Nick's ear lobe and whispered, "What do you want me to do. I'll do anything you need just tell me."

Nick told the kid, he was just barely legal, he wanted a blow-job and the boy eagerly went to his knees. He opend Nick's fly and began to work his dick out of his tight jeans. It wasn't a difficult task because Nick was just semi-erect. The blond head began to move up and down Nick's penis, licking and nipping gently. He swirled his tongue around the head and then used the tip to lick up the vein on the underside, up through the rounded edges of the head and dip into Nick's slit. He delicately licked back and forward and then with no warning, took his cock completely down his throat. As blow jobs went, it was easily among the top five best Nick had ever had.

The boy worked on him with skill and dedication and it was such a shame to waste all that energy but Nick realized he wasn't going to come. In fact, he was about to lose his erection, even with the whole hearted attention his dick was receiving. He quickly pulled the young man to his feet, turned him around and put his hands against the wall. He pulled his pants down, got some lube out of the kid's pants, greased up a couple of fingers and used them to fuck the boy's ass while he reached around and efficiently brought the young man off.

When he felt the cum spurt across his hand, he counted to five, then kissed the boy on the cheek (it wasn't his fault after all) and told him he was a fantastic piece of ass and left the club. Outside in the parking lot, as he was pulling off the great-looking t-shirt and using it to wipe off both hands (but not his dick for the first time in seven years) he thought it was the only part of the routine that was even close to being the same.

********************

In the weeks to come, Nick tried 3 more times to get his club routine back on track and it just didn't work. Once, he couldn't get hard at all and the other two times, he managed to get stiff but couldn't stay stiff. It was only later when he was trying to analyze the 4 failed attempts that Nick realized the three times he'd managed to get an erection at all was with young, lean, blonde or brown-haired men.

********************

OK, right about now, all of you who are reading this are saying or maybe just yelling at him, "Hey Stupid; who do you know that fits that description?" The thing is, Nick isn't just dense, he's going over the line into a dark place that's been waiting for him ever since he was nine years old.

It got a little closer when he started using his club trips to replace his natural need for affection and companionship. It retreated somewhat during his five months with Greg but as his emotions became harder and harder to control, the dark place saw it's chance and came back into Nick's mind. It was the dark place that had been in control when he'd screamed at Greg.

If someone had just been there to tell him that losing control when you loved someone and they loved you back was normal and part of the 'dance of sex and love' he might have been able to work things out with Greg BUT the dark place was telling him that it was Greg's fault that he let his house go and Greg's fault that he spent hours in bed with him instead of doing the chores he was supposed to be doing. It was all Greg's fault. Greg and his sexual tricks made Nick forget everything he'd used to keep himself from going crazy over the years. It got closer still when he began obsessive house cleaning and never realized he was moving into OCD territory.

Too bad Nick didn't or couldn't realize that Greg was the one thing that could have shut the door and thrown away the key to that dark place that had been waiting for him all that time.

Nick opened the door to the dark place a few days later.

********************************

He'd finally recognized the significance of the physical descriptions of the 3 young men who'd interested him. Any one of them could have been mistaken for Greg in a dim light. (Not up close because they didn't have Greg's Hershey-kisses eyes or his long, dark, flirty eyelashes and his moles. God those moles made Nick hard just remembering the few scattered on his cheek and the ones on his torso. He even had a little mole on his cock that you could really see when he got hard. And then there was the one just beside his butt-hole. Jesus, that one drove Nick crazy)

Nick was sitting on his couch trying to watch TV. Nothing caught his fancy but he'd finally put it on Animal Planet. They were having a 'Meercat Manor' marathon. Nick had got the connection between the kids in the club and Greg while watching the shows. He remembered how he'd introduced Greg to Flower and her gang one evening when Greg said he was bored. Greg had been enchanted and they had actually gone to Blockbuster before work so he could get the first season DVD. After that, they made sure they TIVO'd every single episode, even the one's they watched. They had spent a lot of happy moments, wrapped around each other watching the antics of the funny little animals. When Flower had died from a snake bite while trying to protect her pup's, Greg had cried openly until he was almost sick. Nick had spent the rest of the night, making slow, gentle love to Greg; leaving him so limp and spent all he could do was sleep. When he woke, he was still sad but he'd accepted the death of the brave little creature.

As memories overcame Nick, he didn't even realize he'd slid his hand down inside his sweat pants. He thought about the 3 guys in the club and then he thought about that night he'd held Greg and loved his tears and sorrow away. As his mind recalled the feel of Greg's skin against his, his hand began to stroke his hardening prick. He thought about how Greg looked in the dim moonlight from the window and how he sounded when Nick moved between his legs and kissed the inside of his thighs. Kisses with teeth. Little bites just hard enough to make Greg hiss and then moan when Nick licked the bite marks and gently sucked on them. He'd worked his way up to Greg's hard cock, twitching against his stomach. But he didn't reach for the pretty thing. Instead, he'd flipped Greg over on his stomach and pulled him back so he was on his knees with his ass up in the air right in front of Nick's face. Then he'd pushed his knees further apart, moved between them and pulled Greg's cheeks apart. That's when he'd seen the mole, dark against the pale, white skin of Greg's ass. It was right there beside his entry. Almost like a sign. Nick believed in signs then. He'd licked across the mole and over to the puckered hole and ran the flat of his tongue across it. It was a good thing he was still holding Greg's cheeks apart because he'd let out a yell and almost pitched Nick off the bed. Nick used his weight to hold Greg still while he proceeded to eat his ass so thoroughly, he didn't even need lube to slide inside.

Nick came hard; so hard it almost caused a cramp in his hand from the furious stroking. He was lost in the memory of that night with Greg and the force of the first orgasm he'd had since Greg left. It took a long time for his breathing to return to normal and his heart to stop racing. Then, it took still more time for his legs to stiffen up enough to bear his weight. He stumbled into the bathroom, took off his clothes and got in the shower. When he got out, he stumbled into the bedroom and fell in bed and into the first really solid sleep he'd gotten since his first pathetic trip to 'alterna'.

He never thought about his semen stained pants or the wet towel laying on the floor in the bathroom.

***************************************

A normal person would have realized about now that he still had major feelings for Greg and probably had made a really dumb decision in breaking things off. A normal person would have got his butt in gear and got ready to do some major groveling, begging and pleading to get his boyfriend back. But, we've already determined that not only was Nick NOT normal right now but he was probably on his way to 'their coming to take me away ha ha' land. Instead of doing what anyone in their right mind would do, Nick decided to see if Greg wanted to engage in a 'friends with benefits' relationship.

Nick thought the whole idea made a lot of sense. He wasn't seeing anyone and he was pretty sure Greg wasn't seeing anyone. The physical part of their five months together had always been good. Hell, it was so good there had to be a different word to use; like great or wonderful or spectacular or out of this galaxy good. Nick could not see why they should give that up just because they couldn't live together in the same house. So he propositioned Greg in the Denali, in the parking lot after they had worked a case together. It didn't go the way Nick had expected. Greg had used language Nick didn't even know he knew. Greg had called him names, some in Norwegian that sounded really bad. He had ended by telling Nick if he ever said one single word to him that did not concern a case, he would go to Grissom and report him for sexual harrassment. He got out of the car and slammed the door so hard, Nick was afraid he might have damaged the lock.

Nick took the evidence into the lab, logged it in and went home. He never caught a glimpse of Greg.

Now what the heck was he supposed to do? His regular methods of sexual relief had not worked and it was pretty evident that he needed to attend to his physical needs to keep himself healthy but he'd been so rough during his make-out session with his good right hand that he'd bruised his dick and he didn't think he could bring himself to do that too often. Perhaps, he couldn't but maybe someone or something else could.

Several days later, Nick went home, went through his club preparation and headed out. He wasn't psychic any more than Greg was. He never knew when he paid his cover charge, got his hand stamped and walked through the door of a club called 'Ball and Chain'; he was actually walking straight into the dark place.

*************************

Greg had spent the last few days alternately cursing Nick and working his behind off. He was in a strange place where he hurt because he thought Nick's proposal that they just become 'fuck buddies' was a sign that he had never cared for him at all. He remembered Bobby making him admit that Nick had never once told him he 'loved' him. He'd told him constantly that he wanted him, that his kisses made him crazy, that he was the best piece of ass he'd ever had but never once had the word 'love' passed Nick Stokes lips. He'd imagined it all. How could he have been so fucking stupid?

He'd seen Alan every single day since Nick's strange 'proposal'. Alan was afraid Greg was going back to square one but Greg insisted he was not going to let that fucker tear him down again. Greg had been working on a phase of his 'life growth plan'. Those were Alan's words not his. Alan had led him kicking and screaming to the realization that he was now an adult. That meant he needed to act like an adult about his person and his home. Alan stressed to Greg he wanted him to grow up NOT old. If he still wanted to listen to Marilyn Manson and go to heavy metal concerts, get his butt in gear and go. Hell, Alan even said he'd go with him if he wanted company. And true to his word, he had gone with Greg and they had a great time. Alan told him later, he'd never laughed so hard in all his life and even the fact that he had no hearing in his upper or lower range hadn't really bothered him. He'd just make sure he brought ear plugs next time.

Greg had adapted Alan's idea and changed it to his own needs. The day after he'd received the table from Mr. Emerson, he'd had a 'light bulb' idea. When he came home, he'd done his usual; thrown everything on the floor and headed for the kitchen to make a fresh pot of coffee. He was walking back into his living room with his coffee when he took a good look at his new table. The table was gleaming there in his place with the beautifully carved mirror hanging above it. It didn't look right; there was something wrong. Greg sat down and stared at the table. OH SHIT!! What good was it to put Waterford crystal candle sticks with no candles or a Galmer Sterling Silver vase with no flowers. Of course it doesn't look right. Greg looked at his watch and decided he had time. He needed to grab something for breakfast anyway. He'd thought he still had some cereal but while making his coffee, he looked and the box was empty. God Nick used to hate it when he did that; put an empty box back on the shelf or an empty container of juice back in the fridge. The milk was sour anyway so even if he'd had cereal he couldn't eat it. Greg slipped his shoes back on, grabbed his car keys and his wallet and headed out to the store.

Three hours later he was back. What should have been a 30 minute run to the store turned into a journey because he'd been muttering to himself about candles and flowers in the store when a sweet little grey-haired lady asked him if she could help him. He told her he needed some candles. She asked him what kind. He looked at her and said the kind that burn? She asked him if he had ever bought candles before. Greg was somewhat offended. Of course he'd bought candles. He'd picked up candles at the 'Sex Toy Store' when he wanted to provide a certain 'ambiance'. Naturally he didn't tell the sweet little grey-haired lady that! He finally said yes, he'd bought candles but always the little ones in the glass thingy's. She said they were 'votive' candles. Then she asked him what he was going to put the candles in or on.

After she had the whole story out of him about the legacy of the table and the candle sticks and the vase, she asked if he had a car. He said yes he had a car and she said she was going to take him candle shopping if he would bring her right back here. Greg said he'd take her right to her front door if she could help him through this. They went off to a place Greg had never heard of called 'Wick and Wicked'. He didn't know that many candles existed in the whole world. They spent hours smelling and feeling while she talked to him about tapers and columns and bobbiche's and votives and Greg's head was spinning. When she asked him what color his walls were, Greg was ashamed to tell her they were a dirty grey, brown, tired white combination so he just said 'standard apartment'. She then asked what his favorite color was. He was torn between green and red but eventually decided green. They bought some unbelievable gorgeous light green tapers. At the last minute, Greg went back and bought the red ones also. When she grinned at him, he just tried to bluff his way throught by saying, "These will look great at Christmas."

Annabella, they were now on a first name basis, told him Christmas was almost 5 months away. Greg broke down and told her he really loved the smell of cinnamon. The green candles came in varying shades and aroma's. Greg bought lime and honey-dew and mint. He didn't know whether he wanted to burn them or lick them. Then they went to Annabella's favorite street vendor and bought some calla lillies. Annabella told him they were just elegant flowers and she thought he would like them or white lilacs or day-lillies. She was right. When he saw the calla lillies he was smitten.

By the time he'd taken Annabella back to the grocery store and they had both bought the items they needed and he'd taken her home and carried her things into her spotless kitchen, Greg was hopelessly in love with this sweet lady. They exchanged telephone numbers after Greg said he would take her shopping every week and she was to call him if she needed anything, any time.

Greg went home, threw out the stale, cold coffee and while a new pot was heating, he put candles in his holders and arranged the lillies in his vase. Now that was more like it. He had a bowl of Coco-Puffs sitting on his couch, admiring his table and it's accessories.

****************************

The next morning was a repeat of the one before. There was something wrong. Flowers, check. Candles, check. Carved box sitting at an angle between them, check. Mirror just slightly off center so the candle sticks on the other side were not crowded, check. So what the HELL?

****************************

The wall. The stinking, filthy, nasty, scratched wall. That's what was wrong. Before Greg went to sleep he called Annabella. They talked and agreed that the next day, after Greg had gotten some sleep, he would come by and they would go to Lowe's and she would educate him in paint samples. Greg went to sleep, determined to learn as much as possible from this lovely, accommodating lady.

That had been the start of a love affair; not only with Annabella, who was the most active, energetic 84 year old woman Greg had ever known but also with colors and hues and tints and painting techniques. Annabella was a retired teacher, (what the hell was it with him and retired teachers anyway). She had plaques and awards everywhere in her neat little home awarded to Annabella Harris, Outstanding High School Teacher of the Year. Greg could understand why after 2 hours in her company. She didn't lecture; she told you wonderful stories about colors and what they meant and how they affected you. She told him how bright colors would increase your energy and appetite and that's why so many kitchens were painted yellow or had splashes of red. She wooed him with words and tales and fables and during the process made him want to be surrounded by beauty.

Greg had been working on his apartment ever since. And what had started as a plan to improve his life style had become a way to hold himself together. Greg had worked constantly since Nick's strange idea that they would make great 'friends with benefits'.

He was almost through and had just completed the final coat on his kitchen cabinets when the phone started ringing off the hook. Greg wanted to clean his brush before it dried out so he decided to let the phone go to the answering machine. That is until he heard Rob's hysterical voice screaming over the phone.

"Greg, Greg, please...oh God...please pick up Greg. Please pick up...they're going to hurt Nick so bad. Please Greg...pick up, I don't know what to do...they're going to hurt him."

Greg dropped the brush in the sink and literally leaped over his couch to grab the phone. "Rob, Rob...I'ts Greg. What are you talking about? Where are you?"

Greg could hear Rob breathing hard on the telephone. He knew he hadn't hung up and he could hear loud music and glasses clinking together. He had to be in some bar somewhere but what was it he said about Nick. Greg yelled at the top of his lungs into the phone trying to get Rob back on the line.

Finally, he heard Rob's voice again. He was close to hysteria and he was talking so fast. His voice sounded as though he was trying not to cry. "Greg, you got to get over here right away. He's gonna be hurt so bad. Please Greg."

"Rob, calm down, man. I'm here and I'm listening to you. Now first, where are you?"

"Remember I told you I was gonna take this bartending job at this new club?"

"Jesus Christ Rob, not the Ball and Chain. That place is just barely one step up from a torture club."

"Yeah but the pay is fantastic if you can ignore the screams and the blood."

"What about Nick? What do you mean, 'he's gonna be hurt'."

"Nick came in a couple of hours ago. I thought it was him but I couldn't imagine him in a place like this so I made sure I was the one waiting on him. When he ordered a beer in the bottle, I knew it was him. He didn't recognize me so I just served him but I tried to keep an eye on him. At first it was OK, he had his beer and then he went out and danced and I couldn't believe it at first the way he was rubbing all over some of these guys and letting them handle him but nothing was happening and I figured since you two weren't together any more it was OK and....."

"Rob, stop and take a breath, OK? Now I got that Nick was there and dancing and there was some body contact going on but how did that turn into 'he's gonna be hurt'?"

"This one guy, his name is Larry and he's just barely human. He came over and started dancing behind him and he was rubbing him all over and even I could see Nick was getting a hard-on and then Larry's friend joined them..."

Greg interrupted him, "What is the friends name?"

"I don't know. The guys behind the bar here call them Larry, Moe and Curly because there's three of them and ...you know like the three Stooge's." Rob almost screamed at Greg, "Good God Greg, never mind names. Nick thought there were two of them and he went to the back with them but they always play in three's and they play rough. There is always blood to clean up after they use a room. You need to get here fast and if you've got a gun bring it."

"What the hell do you mean bring a gun?"

"Greg, they play for keeps and as big as they are, it's going to take an UZI to get them to give up a toy as pretty as Nick."

Greg told Rob to give him the address. He should know it; the lab had already had several calls to that club. It had a bad reputation and had only been open three months. He told Rob to keep an eye on the room and he would be there as fast as he could. Rob told him to use his lights and sirens and hung up.

Greg called Bobby and woke him out of a sound sleep. Bobby was at least used to getting woke up so he was alert at once just at the sound of Greg's voice. Greg told him what Rob had said as quickly as possible. Bobby asked Greg what he needed. Greg told him he needed him and the biggest, baddest gun he owned. Bobby told Greg to take off and they would meet him at the club. He also told him to be sure and take his ID and gun permit. Greg was half way to the club before he realized Bobby had said 'they'.

He did put on his lights and his siren and he made it to the club in less than 15 minutes. He waited and was getting ready to go in on his own when Bobby's honking big truck drew up also with lights and siren's going full blast. He piled out one side and Steve the other. Greg was out of his car and waiting for them on the side walk. The three of them walked up to the bouncer who looked as though he really thought he was going to keep them out.

Greg hesitated for a very brief second and was glad he did when he heard Steve's big, deep voice say, "We just got a call there's an officer in trouble inside. Are you goin' to let us in and try to take care of this on our own or are we going to have to call a SWAT team and throw what ever is left of your asses in jail when we get through with you?"

The guy didn't say a word. He just removed the rope and let them pass through. Greg looked at Steve and thanked the dear Lord above he was on their side. They hurried inside the club, flashed their ID at the doorkeeper who was about to ask them for money and told him they were there on official business. If he was a good boy and kept his mouth shut, they would pretend they hadn't even seen him. He was a very good boy. They saw his back side going out a side door as they entered the club.

Rob was waiting and came over pretending to ask them if they wanted a table or a booth. Under his breath, he told Greg to go to the back wall, make a left turn and go to the first hall. Turn right there and the stooges usually played in the fourth room on the left.

The three men hurried across the dance floor not being too gentle with anyone who got in their way. They reached the back wall, turned left and rushed down the first hall they came to. They halted briefly outside the fourth door on the left and couldn't hear anything. Steve raised his foot and proceeded to kick the hell out of the door. It burst in on its busted hinges and they entered the room with their guns drawn.

Greg never knew how he managed to stay on his feet. He knew he felt Bobby's hand gripping his elbow and finally digging into the nexus of nerves just above the joint. The pain made him gasp and pay attention. He wished he could just pass out.

Nick was fastened to a wooden bench. His hands were cuffed to the legs at the front and his legs pulled wide apart and also cuffed under the bench. His ass was open and his hole would have been visible to everyone except for the ugly wooden club rammed in it. His back, butt and thighs were covered with bloody stripes and welts and one of the stooges was standing beside the bench with a long whip in his hand. Blood, Nicky's blood, was dripping off the whip on the floor. The other two stooges were at the head of the bench. One of them had his cock shoved in Nick's mouth and the other was obviously waiting his turn.

Greg saw red. He rushed the ape with the whip, grabbed the whip out of his hand and smashed his teeth in with the weighted handle of the whip. It was a damn good thing he had backup because the other two started for him but Bobby and Steve each took a Neanderthal and had them on the floor on their knees with a gun pressed to the back of their heads in seconds. Greg was kneeling by the bench trying to talk to Nick but he was so stunned by the whole sight he couldn't do much except brush Nicky's sweat soaked hair off his forehead and tell him to hold on, they would get him out of there. He started to reach for the wooden club and pull it out of Nick's rectum but Steve stopped him.

"What's the matter with you. Can't you tell how much that thing is hurting him?" Greg was almost in tears.

He reached for the abomination again and again Steve grabbed his hand and said, "Greg do you trust me?"

Greg glared at him and said, "What's that got to do with that thing in Nicky's ass?"

"We need to get these turds restrained and then we will take care of Nicky. Right now, if they make a move they could permanently injure him. Do you understand what I'm saying."

Greg saw the wisdom of what Steve was saying but he didn't want to wait a second to get that thing out of Nick. He walked over to the one he'd hit in the mouth who was now kneeling next to his partners with Bobby's huge .357 Magnum moving from neck to neck. Bobby was having such a good time. He loved to use his big gun and if it hadn't been for his friend laying on the bench bleeding and hurt he would have been having the time of his life.

Greg asked Larry, Moe or Curly, who ever, where the keys were for the cuffs. The idiot didn't even realize he was in no position to be playing a smart ass and told Greg to go dig the keys out of the pansy's ass. Greg looked up at Bobby and asked him if his gun needed to be dry-cleaned. Bobby gave him a thoroughly puzzled look and said of course not and what the hell was he talking about. Greg told Bobby he thought that if the ape had his Magnum shoved in his mouth, it might clear some of those broken teeth out of the way and then the guy could see he was talking through a mouth full of shit. Bobby smiled his big warm smile that reminded Greg so much of Nick's. He often wondered if all Southern boys were born knowing how to turn that Southern charm off and on.

Bobby walked over, shoved the muzzle in the idiot's mouth and believe me, he was not gentle. Greg heard another tooth crack and the ape grunted in pain. But when Bobby cocked the trigger, the ape began making a lot of noise. Greg finally told Bobby to pull the muzzle out so they could hear what he was saying.

Smash Mouth Ape told them the key's were over in the top drawer of the small cabinet against the wall. Steve went over, found the keys and carefully removed the cuffs from Nick's wrists and ankles. Nick made the first sound they had heard since they busted into the room. He moaned when Steve unfastened his ankle. When Steve held up the cuff, it was covered with blood on the inside. Greg took one look and brought his gun butt across the bloody mouth so hard he almost fell down. Smash Mouth did fall over, out like a light.

Steve and Bobby got three chairs, put the trio in the chairs and used the cuffs to fasten their hands to the back of the chairs. Then Greg went over to pull the ugly wooden dildo out of Nick but Steve stopped him again.

Greg was at the end of his patience. He swung around and would have hit Steve if Bobby hadn't grabbed his arm and said, "Greg. It's a trick dildo. It has barbs. If you pull it out, the barbs extend and it will rip the inside of Nick's rectum to pieces. We have to find the trigger that keeps the barbs from releasing before we remove it."

That was it. There was a sink in the room but Greg knew he couldn't make it that far so he grabbed a wastebasket and puked his guts out. When he finally stopped throwing up, he wiped his mouth, went over to the sink and rinsed his mouth out. He went back to the bench where Steve and Bobby were carefully examining every available centimeter of the ugly instrument. Greg looked at Steve and in a voice that he hoped told him how sorry he was, asked him what he wanted him to do. Steve looked up at Greg with his soft, clear brown eyes and without a word let Greg know he wasn't holding a grudge. He told Greg to get a towel out of the cabinet under the sink, wet it and see if he could clean Nick's face and see if he was conscious. Greg knew it would be helpful but he also knew that kneeling in front of Nick's face he could not see Bobby and Steve working on his boyfriend's butt. Former boyfriend? No, he loved Nick. He was more than his boyfriend and seeing him in this condition just made him want to love and protect him. He finally realized that the one person Nick needed protection from the most was himself.

He got the towel and carefully wiped Nick's face. He realized he was wiping semen and since the other two had been waiting their turn, he was pretty sure the cum belonged to Smash Mouth. He carefully cleaned every single trace from Nick's face and then gently turned his head to the side so he could check first one side of his face and then the other. There did not appear to be any damage; then Greg saw the trickle of blood coming out of Nick's mouth. He thought at first Nick had bitten his lip or his tongue but when he carefully opened Nick's mouth and checked it out, he saw the tear inside his mouth at the corner of his lip and realized the bastard had shoved his cock in Nick's mouth so hard, he'd torn it. He bent over, cleaned the blood away and gently pressed a kiss to Nick's mouth. There was no response at all. Nick seemed to be complete out of it. Just then, he heard Bobby let out a big sigh, there was a very soft click and he heard a little grunt from Steve. Nick let out a moan that got louder and then a small strangled scream and he passed back out again. Greg looked up just in time to see Steve throw the ugly thing, dripping with Nick's blood, into the sink.

Bobby grabbed some more towels from under the sink and he and Steve carefully folded them into a bandage of sorts which they gently pressed between the cheeks of Nick's butt.

"We've got to get him out of here and get him medical attention like now" Bobby was saying softly to Steve as they worked on stopping the blood seeping out of Nick's rectum.

Greg told them he'd be right back. He left the room on a dead run and headed back out into the club. He motioned to Rob and after a quick look around, Rob sidled over to him. "Did you stop them" he asked?

"Yeah but they managed to do a lot of damage. I owe you one Rob. Now tell me how we can get a naked, bleeding, badly wounded man out of here without causing a riot."

Rob told Greg to go back in the hall and start getting Nick ready. He'd be there just as fast as he could. Greg headed back to the fourth door on the left; hell's front door. Bobby and Steve were still working on Nick. The blood was slowing down but the towels were still slowly soaking. He told them they needed to start getting Nick ready to move. The three of them just looked at each other. How were they going to move a bloody hunk of meat which was about all Nick was at that moment? How were they going to get him out of the club? What were they going to do with him after/if they got him out? Just then they heard Rob scurrying down the hall. Greg knew he needed to protect Rob from the three apes still handcuffed to the chairs so he ran through the door and caught Rob in the hall. He had a key in his hand.

"Which one of you drove here" he asked? When told there were two cars he just said, "Damn! Ok, here's what we have to do. Two of you go get your cars and bring them down the alley in back of the club. Go around the block and come in from the back side. When you get the cars in place, come back in the back door. This is the key. We'll get Nick down the hall, out the back door and into your car and then you take it from there." Greg told Rob they would get Nick down the hall and for him to get himself back behind the bar and forget everything he'd seen. They would protect him and keep the apes from knowing about his participation in Nick's rescue. And that's just what they did.

Bobby and Greg decided quickly while walking out to their cars they would get Nick in the back of Greg's car since he'd brought his assigned Denali home with him and the back seat was big enough to lay Nick down. Steve would ride in Greg's car in the back with Nick and they would take him to their house while they decided on their next move. They both knew they had almost no time to make a decision because of Nick's extreme loss of blood but they also knew they needed to get him away from that hell hole as quickly as possible.

When they got the cars in position, they both rushed back down the hall and started trying to figure out how to move Nick. Steve told them to get out of his way, picked Nick up in his arms like a baby and carried him down the hall to the waiting car. As Bobby and Greg started to leave, one of the apes, not Smash Mouth who was out of it again, asked them what was about them. Bobby looked at them and said, "Well if we're lucky, no one will find you three until you start stinking." He carefully propped the broken door back in the jamb, decided it looked pretty good and headed down the hall behind Greg. They helped Steve get in the back seat still holding Nick in his arms. They got him propped up and took off for Bobby and Steve's home. Thank God their daughter was at Steve's parents for a special week-end with Mimaw and Gramps.

***********************************

They pulled Greg's SUV in the garage and helped Steve get out. He carried Nick into the house behind Bobby and Greg who were heading for the spare bedroom. They pulled the covers off the bed and told Steve to lay him on the bed. Steve put him down and carefully turned him over on his stomach. Nick was still out of it and they were beginning to worry about that. Steve was worried and couldn't understand why they brought Nick to their house instead of taking him directly to a hospital. Bobby looked at Greg and then at his spouse.

He walked over to Steve and put his arms around his waist and leaned against him. Steve instinctively put his arms around his love. Bobby and he just hugged for an instant and then Bobby pulled back and said, "Steve, if anyone finds out about this, Nick's career is over. He will never get a job in law enforcement not even as a janitor. If there is any way to handle this without letting everyone in Vegas know about it, we need to come up with it now."

There was complete silence in the room for a few seconds then Greg went 'OH' about the same time Bobby went 'HEY'. They turned toward each other and both of them said at the same time, "ALAN".

Bobby leaped across the room, grabbed the phone and started pushing buttons. Thank God they were personal friends and he didn't have to go through the good doctor's answering service. He called Alan's home number and prayed for an answer. On the fifth ring, he heard a garbled hello. He was also thanking God it was a Saturday. He quickly told Alan there was an emergency, please would he bring his doctor's bag and get to their house ASAP. Alan asked him what was going on and Bobby said, "Alan I've never said this to you before and I hope to the dear Lord I never have to again but this really is a life and death matter. Please come." Alan told him to open the front door, he'd be there in 10 minutes. He made it in 8.

Alan worked on Nick for over an hour before he finally came out of the spare bedroom. He was drenched in sweat and shaking. He asked for a stiff drink and collapsed in a chair. Greg made him a Jack Daniels and when he started to add Coke, Alan stopped him. "Just put some ice in that and bring it here. Bring the bottle too."

After his second straight belt, he poured a third, took a small sip and then looked at the three men sitting around the living room in various postures of misery. "One or all of you better start talking right now or I'm going to call the police and have you all arrested for assault."

Greg just gaped at him and finally said, "You can't think any one of us did that. Good God, we've spent the last three hours trying to get him away from the shit heads that did that to him and get him safe."

Alan nodded. "Ok then start talking." For the next hour, they told him every single thing that had happened since Greg answered Rob's hysterical call. It didn't take that long but Alan stopped them three times to go check on Nick and take his vitals. When they finished, Alan asked them the same thing Steve had; why didn't they take Nick to the hospital. He wasn't sure but it was possible Nick needed surgery maybe even a colostomy because of the severe damage to his rectum. And the whip marks on his back were ripe for infection.

Greg and Bobby repeated their concern for Nick's career and told Alan, they were afraid they would save his life only to ruin it. If the story got out, Nick's reputation was gone. He might never work at any thing but menial labor for the rest of his life.

Alan put his head in his hands and just sat there for a good 5 minutes. Finally he raised his head and said, "OK here's what we can do. I do work for a small, very private clinic in Hendricks. I can get Nick admitted to the clinic under an assumed name. He will get first class medical care and I will work on his mental problems when his physical condition improves enough. Or are you going to try to tell me he doesn't need professional counseling."

Greg, Bobby and Steve all said "Hell NO!" at the same time.

Greg told Alan they knew for a fact that Nick had gone to the club on his own and had gone to the back room with Larry and one of the apes willingly. They also told him that they knew for a fact that Nick did not know about the threesome and they were pretty sure it was Nick's first time at that club. Alan asked Greg how he knew that. Greg told him because the club had only been open three months and he and Nick had still been together for the first month and because of the work load they had carrying at the crime lab, he was pretty sure Nick had not been there during the two months after they separated.

Alan made arrangements to have Nick transported to the clinic in a private ambulance. He told the three friends they were going to have to pay for the ambulance themselves either in cash or with a credit card. But they needed to pay up front to keep all records confidential. They asked how much the ambulance would cost. Alan said probably $750.00. Bobby and Steve had $600.00 in cash and Greg rushed down to the corner while they were waiting and pulled $300.00 out of the ATM machine.

He got back as quickly as possible and asked if he could go in and sit with Nick until the ambulance got there. Alan said yes but they had one other problem they needed to address. Greg gave him a puzzled look and asked what else was wrong. Nick was stable for the moment, medical care was going to be provided, they had the cash for the ambulance...what else did they need.

"What are you going to tell them at the crime lab" asked Alan.

Bobby, Steve and Greg looked at each other and as one said, "OH SHIT!"

 

The ambulance had come and taken Nick and Alan away. Greg, Bobby and Steve were sitting around the living room in varying stages of depression ranging from mildly severe (Steve) to mildly severe with overtones of depression (Bobby) to full out panic (Greg).

They had thought of and immediately discarded 10 or so different ideas and had been silent for the last 15 minutes except for an occasional deep sigh. Finally Steve said, "Look guys, it's almost 3.00 pm and you both have to work tonight. I'm tired; I know you two must be ready to drop. Why don't you take a shower (they were all still covered in Nick's blood) and Greg, you want to crash here? I'll wash and dry your clothes while you're sleeping and maybe when we aren't so tired, we'll be able to come up with something."

"Come up with what Steve? We've been wracking our brain for close to an hour now. What can we come up with?" Greg was ashamed of himself for whining at Steve but he was tired, frantic with worry about Nick's physical, condition, his mental condition and most of all, protecting him from discovery.

"I don't know Sanders. I really have very little experience in this superhero shit! It's not like I crash a torture club, wave a gun around and impersonate a police officer every other week-end. Oh and while I'm at it, let's add to the list, taking down three Cro-Magnan's with bloody whips, try to figure out how to get a booby-trapped dildo out of some guy's ass, a guy I really don't know that well and then carry the bloody bastard out of the torture club and bring him home with me. HAVE I MISSED ANYTHING?"

Steve's voice had been rising with each sentence and he was at full out yell by the time he got to the end. Greg looked at Bobby who was staring at his spouse in wide-eyed amazement. Evidently, Steve didn't raise his voice too often. Bobby looked back at Greg and visibly swallowed. When Steve yelled even louder, "WELL, HAVE I?" both men hastened to assure him that he had pretty much covered all the bases.

"God, I don't know what to do. Maybe he could have an illness in the family." Steve was grasping at straws and feeling just a touch of embarrassment over yelling at Greg the way he had. He knew Greg had to be out of his mind with worry and he knew for a fact that if he had been in Greg's shoes and Bobby had been in the ambulance, it would have taken half of Vegas to keep him away from him. Only Greg's frantic need to keep Nick's secret had kept him there in the house with them and that alone made Steve realize, they just had to come up with something.

Greg was muttering to himself, "Illness, accident maybe one of the sibs....."

Bobby wasn't muttering out loud but he was pacing back and forth and it was obvious he was talking to himself by the way his hands were waving around. Suddenly he stopped dead in the middle of the floor. He turned to Greg at the same instant that Greg turned to him. They each pointed a finger at the other and said together, "Judge Stokes!"

Steve yelled, "GOD DAMNIT. WILL YOU TWO STOP THAT?" In a quieter voice he added, "You both have been doing that all morning and you are just fuckin' freaking me out. When did my calm, laid back house-mate get on the same wave length as his heavy-metal loving co-worker?" Neither man paid any attention to him what-so-ever. They were sitting together on the couch, talking a mile a minute.

Neither one could possibly understand what the other was saying and yet...the next thing Steve knew, Bobby was up, had him by the sleeve and was pulling him out of the room. "What the hell?" was Steve's bewildered response.

Greg looked at Bobby and said, "Aren't you even going to stay and give me moral support?"

Bobby shook his head firmly, "Hell no I'm not. At least you've met the man. I'm going to take my own personal back scrubber off to the bedroom and we are going to get cleaned up while you convince the good Judge. We'll give you 30 minutes and if you haven't gotten anywhere by then, we'll come back and help out." With that, he dragged Steve down the hall. As soon as he got out of Greg's sight, he started undoing buttons, Steve's, not his. By the time they hit the bathroom, he had Steve stripped and most of himself.

Bobby was turning on the water while taking off the remainder of his bloody clothes. Steve was too surprised to be of much help on any level. He just shook his head at the love of his life and said, "Christ Dawson, did you just now realize how dirty we are?"

About that time, Bobby reached out of the shower, grabbed Steve by his dick and using it as a handle proceeded to pull him under the water. "Oh, you're feeling dirty . OK, I can take care of that."

Bobby kissed his partner of 14 years and told him to stop talking and start fixing. They only had 30 minutes and he really did want to get clean somewhere in that time frame; along with a few other things. Aggressive sexual behavior has long been a human response to danger and Bobby didn't ever remember being this aggressive.

Meanwhile, in the living room, Greg was staring at Nick's cell phone. When they had retrieved their cars at the club prior to rescuing Nick through the back door, he and Bobby had stopped by Nick's car. Greg knew Nick kept a spare key in a box hidden under the back passenger side door. He got the key and looked through Nick's car quickly making sure there was nothing to identify it as belonging to him in case the Neanderthal's did get loose. He'd found Nick's wallet, keys and cell phone hidden in the false bottom of the center glove box. He thanked God now that he had taken them.

He went through Nick's stored numbers until he found one that said 'Pancho'. He punched the speed code and tried to get some moisture in his mouth so he could talk if/when Judge Stokes answer.,...."Oh hi Judge Stokes. As you can tell, this isn't Nicky...uh...this is Greg Sanders. I'm a friend of Nick's. I work at the lab with him. You probably don't remember me."

"Greg, of course I remember you. Nick speaks of you often; you and Warrick. What can I do for you and why are you using Nick's phone?"

For the next hour, Greg begged, pleaded, explained, threatened, cajoled and flat out cried. In return, he was cursed, yelled at, threatened, asked to explain several times the exact nature of 'Ball and Chain' and what exactly was his son doing at a place like that. At one point, Greg found himself suggesting that maybe Nick was working under-cover since cowboys and leather were a popular item at that particular club. He looked up into two pair of stunned faces. Bobby and Steve turned and looked at each in amazement. Surely Greg didn't say that to Nick's father...Did he? Oh Shit, yes he did.

At that point, Bobby took the phone from Greg and in his thickest southern drawl said, "Judge Stokes, this here is Bobby Dawson. I'm the ballistics expert at the lab and I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of meetin' you but I know from the fine man your son is that you must be a man of courage and principles. Now, I know Greg probably has confused you but you see Sir, Greg is the youngest new CSI in the lab. You understand how being included in the raid this morning, especially after we got the news that an officer was inside and in danger has been a terrible shock to him. If I had known he was goin' to call you on his own, I'd have been here with him from the beginning. Now we really don't know how come Nick was inside that club BUT we do know he was hurt bad and a lot of those bad'uns got away."

Greg looked at Steve and they both mouthed 'bad'uns'! Is that even a word? They immediately turned their attention back to the phone. They did not want to miss a word of this. If the situation hadn't been so desperate, they would have tried to record the conversation for posterity.

"We also don't know for sure who was in on the surveillance. You know how it is when you keep tryin' to pull a raid and the durn varmint's are squeaky clean when you get there? You start to wonder if maybe someone is tippin' them off?"

Greg knew if Bobby's accent got any thicker, they would require an interpreter. He wasn't getting every word as it was. He wasn't too sure what Bobby had said just before the word varmints.

"The thing is Judge Stokes, no matter what happened, folk's are goin' to talk and Vegas may like to pretend it's just so hoity-toity (OH MY GOD, BOBBY DID NOT SAY THAT!!! Steve had slid off the couch and was pounding silently on the rug) but when it comes down to gossip, this place is worse than Aunt Bee's quilting circle. That's why we don't want anyone to know that Nick was anywhere near that place until every last bad guy is rounded up and corralled for good."

There was a long silence on their end. It was pretty obvious that Judge Stokes was talking a lot on his end. Finally Bobby said, "We need for you to call a man named Conrad Ecklie. He's the assistant lab director. He's also a political toady, I'm sure you have to deal with his like all the time in your position. The good thing is, he will probably piss his pants with joy when he hears a Texas Supreme Court Judge wants to ask him a personal favor as one law-enforcement professional to another. Ask for an unpaid leave of absence for Nick for 6 months. I leave it in your capable hands as to the reason but as much as Nick loves and talks about his brother and his sisters; no one here would be a bit surprised if he took off if one of them or their kids was hurt and needed him."

More silence. Then Bobby's whole body slumped. He started nodding and said, "Yes sir Judge Stokes. Those of us who count Nick as a friend are grateful to you for compromising your principles like this to help us protect him." There was another burst of noise on the other end of the phone and then Bobby responded, "Yes sir, I know he's your son and you would do anything for him but you're also an officer of the court and I know this must be hard for you. We will keep you in touch, I promise sir. I'm going to give you back to Greg now because he has the number for Ecklie and the doctor that's takin' care of Nick. Thank you again sir."

Bobby handed the phone back to an astonished Greg and collapsed in a heap on the couch next to Steve, who managed to stop laughing long enough to pull his worn out lover into his arms and plant a big, wet juicy one right on his mouth.

Greg looked at them and then down at the phone and at a particularly loud burst of noise, hurriedly placed the phone back to his ear and said, "Yes sir Judge, I'm here. I'm just trying to get to my cell to get Ecklie's pager. He's never in the office on Saturday so you will have to page him and I don't know if Bobby told you but Nick was due to work tonight so we need to get word to Ecklie as soon as possible. Yes sir, here it is." Greg recited Ecklie's pager and then gave Judge Stokes his office and his cell phone numbers. Then he gave him Alan's pager and the name of the clinic where they took Nick.

When Nick's father asked Greg what Nick's condition was and how they gotten him to the clinic, Greg panicked again for just a minute, then he rallied. By God if Bobby could spin a yarn like he just had, he could also rise to the occasion. He told Judge Stokes that Nick had been badly beaten (didn't mention a whip of course) and he didn't see much because the doctor had started working on him right away. He said, the doctor was used to working with law-enforcement and had arranged for an ambulance to take Nick to the clinic under an assumed name until they figured out who was the mole if there was a mole. When the judge asked him what about Nick's insurance, Greg said, he didn't know. Everything had happened so fast they hadn't bothered about the usual stuff. They had paid for the ambulance in cash. When Stokes asked him what Nicky was doing carrying that much cash on him, Greg never even thought and said it wasn't Nick's. He and Bobby and Steve had hit their ATM's to pay for the ambulance in cash. There was a long silence on the phone and for the first time Greg heard a note of respect and surprise in the Judges' voice when he said, "The three of you came up with the money in cash to get him medical attention."

Greg told him firmly that Nick would have emptied his bank account for any of them, it was the least they could do for him. Judge Stokes was a little choked up when he said, "OK son, (SON????). You go get some sleep, I'll make some calls and Greg..."

"Yes sir?"

"Mrs. Stokes and I are very grateful to you and your friends. We will never be able to repay you but we will see to it that you get every cent back and we will take care of all Nick's bills until he is able to return to work." With that, the judge hung up and Greg fell in the closest chair.

*****************************

When Greg signed in for work that night he was still a little vague about the details of the time between hanging up and getting up. He thought he remembered being undressed and bathed. He thought he remembered unfamiliar hands washing his hair and the water turning red. God, how had he gotten Nick's blood in his hair? He remembered being woke up and told to get dressed and come to the kitchen for coffee. He remembered breakfast at the table with Bobby and Steve. He remembered asking them if he'd done anything he shouldn't have because he could swear he remembered a naked body pulling him out of the tub and up under the shower to rinse off. When told there was a naked Bobby trying to get him clean enough to get into bed for a couple of hours of sleep before work he asked again if they were sure he hadn't groped anything or anyone he shouldn't have. When told no, the old Greg came out and he said simply, "Damn the luck. Missed a perfect opportunity to see the Dawson ass in all it's glory."

Steve rumbled deep in his chest and for one brief moment, Greg thought he was growling at him and he was checking to see if he would fit under the table, then he realized Steve was laughing out loud.

The one thing Greg did remember vividly was reaching for the phone the minute he managed to pry his eyelids open. Bobby was there in the room and stopped Greg from calling. He said if he was going to call about Nick, Alan had called about 30 minutes earlier. Nick made it through the surgery. They sutured some nasty tears in his rectum and they did do a temporary colostomy to let the tears heal completely. They also had to suture some of the whip marks to try to reduce the possibility of infection. Alan said the main worry was one bad lash mark right across Nick's kidney. They had inserted a penile catheter and the fluid contained blood. They would not be allowing visitors for at least 24 hours. He was in ICU and being watched very closely.

Bobby also said Judge Stokes had already cornered Alan and told him he would be providing reports on Nick's condition bi-weekly and he and Mama Stokes would be coming up in the next 2 weeks. Bobby said Alan was still shuddering when he called to talk about Nick. Bobby added that Alan and Gordon Meijer the owner of the clinic were overjoyed when Judge Stokes told them he would take full responsibility for Nick's medical care and he expected his son to be given the very best the clinic had to offer.

Alan said Gordon was grousing about the call afterwards and going on about how yeah that's what he says now but you just wait until he gets that first bill when his secretary knocked on the door, stuck her head in the office and told them she had just received an e-mail from a Judge William A. Stokes authorizing a $50,000.00 advance payment for medical treatment for his son with an American Express Platinum Card number. She had already verified the card and the money was transferred to the clinic's account. The only problem was, they didn't have a patient named Stokes and she didn't know what to do with the money. Gordon almost knocked his chair over in his haste to get down to ICU and make sure their mystery patient, one Ferris Buehler, had the best of everything and that included 3 private nurses working 8 hour shifts to be at his side at all times. He also told them he wanted to be kept updated on Mr. Buehler's condition every 4 hours.

Alan and Bobby had both laughed out loud at the name selected for Nick's cover. Greg had filled out the paperwork for the ambulance personnel including the patient information. They didn't know what name Nick was using until Gordon told Alan in his office. Greg said well, Nick was going to be taking some days off and it fit.

There was one more big hurdle. Had Judge Stokes managed to handle Ecklie? They would know when Grissom handed out assignments.

Fifteen minutes after Grissom called them all into the break room, Greg was almost limp with relief. Grissom had told them Ecklie had called him at home and told him one of Nick's nephews had been critically injured in a motorcycle accident and he had left at once to be with his sister. His father had spoken with Conrad and told him, he would regard it as a personal favor from one law-enforcement professional to another (Greg rolled his eyes...just where had he heard that line before) if they would put Nick on unpaid leave of absence until further notice. Greg had one brief moment of terror when Warrick asked how come unpaid. He thought the lab provided compassionate leave at a percentage of their salary for family emergencies. Grissom said he'd asked Conrad the same question but Judge Stokes said that was Nick's request. That way, there would be enough funds to hire a fill-in until Nick got back and it wouldn't leave the shift short-handed or the rest of them worn out trying to do his job. Greg felt about 2 inches high when Ronnie, the newbie, said Nick must be a really sweet guy to worry about his co-workers at a time like that. It didn't help at all when both Warrick and Catherine spoke up real quick and said yeah, Nick was one of the nicest guys you'd ever hope to meet and working with him was a great experience. Greg restrained his urge to bitch slap both Catherine and Ronnie when one said and the other agreed that being handsome enough to want to lick wasn't a bad thing either.

Greg went to work his fender bender with injury which turned into a nine car pileup with 4 dead and 8 more requiring immediate medical attention. He had to call Grissom and tell him about the escalation and because of the fatalities and the number of vehicles involved, it meant he as a level one could not be primary on the case so he had to hand it off to Warrick. Eventually they all were out there working and had to holler out to the on-calls from both days and swing.

One thing about it, there's nothing like blood, guts and piles of twisted metal to keep your mind on your work and not on your personal problems. Of course, Greg really didn't think he had any more personal problems. Well except for getting Nick well and finding out what the heck he'd been doing at Ball and Chain in the first place and convincing him that they were more than friends with benefits and making him see that working with Alan was necessary to his health and well being and forcing him to realize that the two of them together could handle any problems this world wanted to give them. That wasn't much was it?

Seven days later, Nick was still unconscious and Greg was a basket case.

The frustration in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife. Dr. Alan Perkins was one of those people who wanted the answers. He didn't have to have all the "t's" crossed and the "I's" dotted BUT he did like to have a general idea of what was going on and he hadn't a clue right now.

There was no reason in the world why his 'mystery' patient should still be unconscious. He wasn't really in a coma even; he just didn't wake up. It had been eight days since Bobby called him and said it was a matter of 'life and death'. Eight days since he'd gone into Bobby and Steve's spare bedroom and saw a man who had been...well, tortured was the only word that fit the situation.

Since that time, he'd found out his new mystery patient was Greg's ass-hole ex-lover. But after talking to Bobby and Judge and Mrs. Stokes and even Greg, it was pretty obvious that Nick was a very sick ass-hole; figuratively and literally.

The surgery had been a complete success. The surgeon who did the repairs to Nick's rectum was one of the best and the severe jagged rips were now extremely thin lines that were almost completely healed and the last of the stitches had been carefully removed this morning. They were going to leave the colostomy hooked up for a full 3 weeks to make sure there would be no further damage when excretory material began to move through the elimination tract again.

Some of the shallow whip marks were completely healed and thanks to the rigorous attention of Nick's nurses, the antibiotic ointment, plus the clinic's special treatment of scars, Nick's back would be back to it's normal smooth perfection with only faint silvery lines where they'd had to suture the worst of the lash marks. Even the possible kidney damage had turned out to be a false alarm and they had removed the penile catheter after 4 days.

In short, Alan could not remember when he had last seen such a gorgeous, healthy, well-built, well-hung, COMATOSE patient in his entire medical career. He threw the stapler he'd been juggling across the room in anger and frustration.

His mood was not relieved when his secretary buzzed him and announced Judge and Mrs. Stokes had arrived. For one brief second, Alan was afraid he was going to whimper out loud. Then he sucked it up and told her to escort them in and to get Greg in there as soon as he arrived.

Fortunately, they only had time to introduce themselves, shake hands and get settled with coffee when Greg got there. Alan started to introduce them but they all assured him they had met before. After more fussing with coffee, Greg started to tell Marie, Alan's receptionist, but she interrupted him and said, "I know, you don't want those little prissy tasters, you want a dish pan full of coffee. I'm getting it."

Greg grinned at the Stokes and said, "She's the main reason we all put up with Alan." That was pretty much the last time anyone grinned for the next hour or so. First, Judge Stokes said he knew they owed Greg a lot but why was he in on this conversation. Alan said it was because there was a lot to discuss and Greg had answers that would save them a lot of time. Greg swallowed half his cup in one big gulp and prepared himself. He and Alan had gone over this meeting so many times but he still felt like a human sacrifice and he was praying he would come out of it with his heart still beating firmly in his chest and not clutched triumphantly in Mama Stokes beautifully manicured hand.

He started by confessing to Judge Stokes that the whole story about the raid and the 'mole' was just a hoax to get him to give Nick a plausible reason for being MIA for a while. Mrs. Stokes started nodding her head halfway through Greg's 'confession'. She was not surprised at all. She had thought the whole thing sounded fishy from the beginning. Greg was reminded once again that most of the Stokes clan worked in law enforcement and they were all very sharp people.

It got pretty dicey after that. Judge Stokes got stiller and stiller as Greg began to come clean about the 'special' relationship he and Nick had. When he told them that he and Nick had been lovers and had lived together for five months, the judge said NO NO NO, got up and started pacing around the room like a tiger with a sore paw. But again, Mama Stokes did not seem that shocked. Greg looked her right in the face and said, "You don't seem to be as surprised as Judge Stokes ma'am."

"I'm not" she got out before her husband interrupted her with a loud "What the Hell do you mean, you're not!"

"Language Bill, there is no need to be crude just because you're shocked and angry."

"Sorry honey, but what do you mean you're not surprised. Surely you don't believe this crap uh this hare-brained story do you?"

"Yes, Bill I do. I've wondered about Nick ever since high school."

"What are you talking about? My God we had to put another line in to handle the calls from all the girls."

"Yes we did. The girls were the ones doing the calling but Nick never had a special girl and even when he did take someone out, there were never more than 3 dates at the most. Didn't you find that odd?"

"No I didn't. I found it to be perfectly normal for a good looking boy like Nick."

"Well, Nick looks just like you when you were younger and I remember you being around so much Papa was talking about adopting you because you spent more time at our place than your own. Now, go on young man. Continue your story."

Greg was purely miserable. He did not want to be there, he did not want to be discussing his love life or lack thereof with the parents of his ex, most of all, he did not want to be telling the Stokes' Nick's secrets when he was helpless and couldn't decide for himself whether he wanted them to know about his sexuality.

He took a deep breath and continued. "Nick and I were the last two people in the world who should have been in a relationship together" he started. He stopped abruptly when he heard Judge Stokes say, "You got that right."

Greg stood up, walked over and stood in front of Nick's father. Alan was wishing right then he had borrowed one of Bobby's guns because he thought blood shed might occur. Greg looked directly in the judge's eyes, "You know what Judge Stokes? I'm completely comfortable with giving you respect and not because you're Nick's father, but because you're a man who deserves it. But Sir, I deserve respect also. I'm a decent person who tries to do good, obey the law and protect my friends. I've studied hard, I have a masters in chemistry and at the age of 24 I RAN the DNA lab at the number 2 crime lab in the United States. I've been published in the Journal of Forensic Science. I go to seminars and people know who I am because of the papers I've published. I took a hefty cut in pay to become a CSI but I did it because I knew I could help more in the field than stuck in a lab. I've been blown up, beat up and accused of murdering an innocent young man because the 'innocent young man' was kicking the shit out of some poor tourist and when I interrupted his fun and his friends by the way, he came at me with a rock."

Greg took a deep breath but he wasn't done yet. "Now, I know you don't approve of my sexual orientation and I can't do anything about that. But I am not going to let you disrespect me for it nor am I going to let you disrespect your son. I don't know why I'm like this but I've known I was different since my teens. Nick told me he knew before he hit puberty that he didn't react to things like his friends did. I've learned so much about myself and I've learned the hard way. I've been seeing Alan three times a week since Nick and I split up and I probably will be paying him $125.00 a month for the rest of my life but it's worth it."

"When I said we shouldn't have been together, I meant because I was the most immature 32 year old guy on the face of the planet and Nick, well Nick had so many problems I don't know where to start. I had yearned for Nick for so long, when he told me he wanted me I just went crazy. Oh yeah, I didn't seduce your darling Nicky. He made the advances."

Judge Stokes was turning an alarming shade of magenta but Greg was on a roll and unless or until the man actually popped a blood vessel, he was going to get it all out in the open.

"I didn't want Nick to pay attention to anything else in this world except me. I was like a kid in a candy store. I'd waited and wanted and lusted for so long; I was jealous of anything that took his focus off me. If he wanted to do the dishes I'd tease and torment and dirty things up and throw food and then I'd use sex to distract him. And it worked. Oh boy, did it work and it always worked. It took a lot of time with Alan before I realized that I did it on purpose because when my sex-tactics did work, Nick would get so rough with me he'd hurt me. Then he'd spend hours making it up to me. He'd be gentle with me and care for me and treat my injuries and bring me food in bed and watch anything I wanted to watch on TV and everything would be wonderful for a while until the cycle started all over again."

"But I was not the only person to blame in this mess. Nick who said he wanted a long-term relationship with me and insisted I spend all my time with him refused to give me a key to the front door of the place he called 'our' home. I had to come in through the garage and he would leave the back door open for me. I was not permitted to bring my own music into 'our' house. I was only allowed to have two changes of clothing in 'our' house. I was given two drawers in the chest in 'our' bedroom. Do you see a pattern here? Do you see anything wrong with this picture? And I was so damn stupid and so damn grateful the great Nick Stokes would even look at me I put up with it. I never said a word out loud BUT, I trashed his house." Greg finally ran out of words and collapsed back in his chair.

There was complete silence in the room. Alan finally said, "Perhaps we ought to take a breather. I've been working with Greg for the last 4 days to help him get the courage to tell you that and I know it was equally difficult for the two of you to listen to it."

Nick's father raised his head. He'd aged during Greg's brain dump. He was no longer magenta, he was actually sort of grey now. Mrs. Stokes was crying silent tears with no noise at all; just big wet tears running down her cheeks. Greg got up and went over to her. He knelt down on the floor in front of her chair being very careful not to touch her. He put his hand on the table next to her and balanced himself as he leaned forward slightly.

"I'm so sorry." He could feel his own tears brimming in response to hers and was determined he would not give in to them. "I wouldn't have told you this, I wouldn't have hurt you like this for the world. But Nick wont wake up and Alan says there isn't a medical reason why he's not waking up so it has to be either in his head or buried so deep inside his soul he can't get to it to fix it. Nick has to wake up. I have to be able to tell him I love him and even if he never wants to see me or have anything to do with me again, I have to tell him how sorry I am that I never saw how bad he was hurting or how much help he needed."

Nick's mother looked deeply into Greg's eyes then she nodded very slightly and leaned forward. She put her arms around him and pulled him tightly into her arms. She hugged him and rocked him and all his good intentions went to hell in a hand basket and he cried. He cried like a baby and was rocked gently in her loving arms. She hummed to him and then she told him in a soft, soft voice that all mothers want the very best in the world for their children. She knew that someone who loved her son so much he was willing to empty his bank account and risk his life to rescue him and risk his job to keep his secret was the very best thing in the world for Nick.

As cathartic as it was to be held and accepted by Nick's mother, Greg still almost jumped out of his skin when he felt Nick's father pat him on the shoulder. He looked up at the stern older man and watched as he struggled to regain his composure and his dignity. Finally he nodded slightly and said, "All right mother, let the poor boy get up off his bony knees and get comfortable. We've still got a lot to discuss. And you young man, you need to know that I can't just accept this the way my wife can. I've spent 70 years thinking that homosexuality is a sin in the eyes of God. I can't change that over night just because my son is the sinner. But I can and I will work on the Christian concept that you can hate the sin and love the sinner."

He cleared his throat as Greg got up and reached for the box of Kleenex on Alan's desk. Alan immediately got a fresh box out and handed it across the desk to Greg to give to Mrs. Stokes. When everyone had taken their seats again and eyes had been mopped and noses furiously blown, Judge Stokes said, "All right Dr. Perkins. You have a theory why Nick isn't waking up and you felt that Greg had to give us this knowledge as background for that theory. Is that correct?"

Alan cleared his throat, he'd been just a little teary himself during the emotional upheaval. But mostly, he was so proud of Greg. He'd almost jumped out of his chair and yelled 'YES' when Greg told Nick's father that he deserved respect. He had worked so hard to make Greg realize on his own, all by himself that as much as he may have loved Nick, he had been treated shamefully and the fact that he had allowed himself to be treated that way, almost as though it was all he could expect was his own form of mental illness.

He realized he'd just lost a patient and was thrilled because now maybe he could acquire a friend. He had come to admire and genuinely enjoy being around Greg. His brain was truly one of a kind and lord knows he had an off-the-wall personality to match. Life was never dull with Sanders around.

"Yes Sir I do. I think that Nick realizes what has happened, I believe that somewhere, on some level he knows what has been done to his body and what his friends had to do and see to rescue him. I also think that the idea that they would go through that for him is impossible for his rational mind to handle because I believe your son has been in trouble for a long, long time. I think something happened to Nick in his past that started this downhill slide and I think this breakdown, for want of a better word, has been a long time coming. In a way, the relationship with Greg finished him off."

Greg audibly caught his breath and let out a strangled, painful moan.

"No Greg, not for the reason's I know you're thinking. I think it was a case of Nick getting what he'd always wanted but in his mind he didn't deserve to have it and he didn't know what to do. On one hand, he couldn't let you go because from what Bobby has told me, he has been, at the very least, infatuated with you for years. The fact that you were equally infatuated with him, while at first, was heaven eventually tore him apart because he couldn't see himself as worthy of the affection you lavished on him."

"Now, since I'm sure this all started years ago I need for you, Mr. and Mrs. Stokes to try to remember if there was anything in Nick's past that could have been a precipitating event. And secondly, I need you both to go into Nick's room and tell him over and over again that you know about him and Greg and that you still love him. He's your son and you will always love him and nothing can ever change that. But you have to mean it. Can you do that?"

Mrs. Stokes said firmly and with sure, quiet, authority, "Yes I certainly can say that; from the bottom of my heart!"

Mr. Stokes was silent. Alan waited and waited and waited and about the time he was ready to kick the sanctimonious shit-head out of his office, Nick's father raised his head and looked Alan squarely in the eyes and said, "Can I tell my son I love him? You bet your ass I can!"

Alan let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, rubbed his hands together and said, "OK, we have a plan. Let's go put it into action."

**********************************

The plan was side tracked while the Stokes went out to get something to eat. Greg went to be with Nick for a while. He had to go back home and grab a few hours of sleep before work. It was agreed that it would be just the parents with him for the next 24 hours. Then Greg was to be in the room with them so Nick could see they weren't just saying they accepted him but they actually did. Alan was absolutely certain that somewhere in the dark world of his own mind, Nick knew, saw and heard everything that was happening to him.

It was a measure of how hard Judge Stokes was trying that he was the one who said he felt bad about Greg not being allowed to see Nick for 24 hours. Greg thanked him for the thought but said Nick would be in very good hands and this would give him a chance to finish putting his kitchen back together and he needed to take the love of his life, Annabelle, grocery shopping.

During the last 8 days, Greg had spoken often with both Judge and Mrs. Stokes when they called him or he called them to exchange news about Nick. He'd told them all about the renovation's he was doing to his apartment and about Annabelle. They agreed they had to meet this delightful lady.

Mrs. Stokes frowned and then said, "Greg, If you want to resume your relationship with Nick, why are you renovating your apartment? I thought one of the problems you two had was the fact that you were not truly sharing a living space."

Greg grinned at her and said, "You know, the worst thing we did was assume that because we had worked together for so long, we knew everything there was to know bout each other. This time if we stand any chance at all, it's going to be because we take it slow and easy and find out if we have anything in common besides lust." He noticed that while she smiled and nodded in agreement, Judge Stokes turned his favorite shade of magenta again and turned away. Greg could not help it, "Sorry Judge, I guess that really was TMI wasn't it?"

Nick's dad looked at him with a puzzled look and then looked back at his wife. She patted him on the cheek and said, "'Too Much Information' dear."

He glared at Greg, shook his finger at him and told him he did that on purpose. Greg almost fell over. The idea of Nick's dad teasing him about him making a sex joke was just surreal.

*****************************

Nick's folks didn't do exactly what Alan told them to do. They were just too much in charge to follow anyone's orders completely. What they did was actually better.

They had not been able to think of any incident in Nick's life, that they knew about, that could have been the precipitator for his emotional problems. So they started telling Nick the story of his life from the moment they first found out there was going to be one more little Stokes. Mama Stokes put the railing down on one side of the bed and pulled her chair up so close she was almost on the bed. She laid her head beside Nick's, put her arm around him and talked right into his ear. She told him about her excitement at having one more baby, his dad's pride at still being virile enough to produce one last Stokes, how happy all the other kids were to have another baby to play with.

When her voice began to give out, Mr. Stokes moved the chair to the head of the bed. He put his hand on Nicks shoulder and laid his head on the bed very close to his son. Alan thought it was amazing how much they looked alike when you saw the two of laying so close together. He picked the story up right where his mom left off. They tag teamed each other all through Nick's life; all the laughter and the tears, the parties and celebrations. They talked about how proud they were of him when he was playing football. It was wonderful that he ran the ball so much and made so many points for their high school, but what impressed his father the most he told him was the way Nick always checked not only his own team mates but also the opposing players any time someone went down on the field. Nick was always the first one there to take off the helmet and check the pupils and reassure the injured player. He said lots of men could be macho but it took a special man to be strong and thoughtful at the same time.

They talked for almost 36 hours. Mama Stokes had to go back to Dallas. As district attorney for such a large city, it was hard for her to get away for any length of time. Nick's dad said he would stay for another day. As his mother was gathering her things together so Greg could drive her to the airport, they heard a rusty sound that was a little like a kitten mewing. When they heard it again, Mr. Stokes whipped his head around so fast he heard his neck pop. He was looking into the dark, puzzled eyes of his youngest son. His awake youngest son.

It had been a tumultuous five days since Nick woke up in a strange place with his mother, father, Greg (GREG...WTF?) and a strange man standing there looking at him. What was even stranger, his folks seemed to know Greg quite well and all three of them knew the strange man but Nick was certain he'd never seen him before.

For Nick, the most frustrating thing of all was no one was telling him anything. He spoke with his mom and dad at least once a day and sometimes several times. All they said was they loved him, they wanted him healed and they would not talk about anything over the phone. They told him they would see him in less than a week and then they would have a family council.


Nick refused to cooperate with the strange man who he now knew was Dr. Alan Perkins, a psychologist (and where the hell had his mom and dad met a Las Vegas psychologist in the first place) although he was always courteous to his nurses and the other clinic employee's who took care of him. He absolutely would not talk to Alan at all. He insisted the last thing he needed was some shrink he didn't know, trying to mess with his mind.

Nick had been scamming people for so long, he was certain all he had to do was bat his eyes at his mom and give her 'the puppy dog' look and he would have her eating out of his hand. His dad, well he was a little tougher. He thought he might try the earnest, young, 'I want to make it on my own without trading on the family name' routine; the one he'd had such success with when he used it on Jim Brass.

The thing that had him worried the most was his parent's easy attitude with Greg. When had that happened and how? To the best of his knowledge, they had only met Greg casually when they had come to Vegas during the Walter Gordon affair. He was going to get some answers and if he had to wait five days to do so; well he could be patient. They didn't know who they were dealing with but he would show them all.

Alan Perkins fit right in with the CSI group; he had a truly devious mind. He was going to have an intervention to end them all with Mr. Stokes when his folks got there. Greg and Bobby were coming and Nick was going to face them and he was going to listen or he was going back into the 'dark place' and stay there forever. Alan had as big an ego as the next guy and he was sure, he was the only therapist who could pull Nick out of the dark and into life again. If Nick didn't see it his way, he was washing his hands of the whole matter and they could take Nick out of the clinic. The first thing he learned, the very first: You cannot help a patient who does not want to help themselves.
* * *
By the time his folks were able to return to Las Vegas, Nick's wounds were healed, the colostomy bag was gone and the small dimple/scar in his lower right side was the only reminder of the trip to hell. He had no reason (in his mind) to be stuck in the clinic when he was so obviously ready to return to work. It infuriated him that he was the only one who seemed to have that opinion. He had also refused consistently to see Greg or Bobby and the fact that he never asked why Bobby wanted to come visit was proof to Alan that his original hypothesis, that Nick knew what was going on, was correct. If he didn't remember Greg, Bobby and Steve rescuing him, then he should have been asking why Bobby was the only one of his team-mates that wanted to see him.

Nick also insisted he had no memory of going to the club or being 'attacked' (his word) or how he had received his injuries. He had heard enough while waking from his long sleep to know there were three attackers and he used that information to bolster his story that he had been overwhelmed by strangers and he knew nothing after that. Boy was he in for a shock.

He was really impatient for his folks to get there. He couldn't understand why it was taking so long to get from the airport. His dad had called him and told him they had landed and were going to pick up their luggage and would see him soon but that was a long time ago. It also pissed him off no end that he really didn't know where this fucking clinic was located. He couldn't see anything out the window's that looked familiar and he was not permitted off his floor. If he'd known his mom and dad were down in Alan's office planning strategy, he would have gone through the roof.

Nick's parents hadn't been there that long when Greg and Bobby arrived. Alan told them his plan and they did a little fine tuning and when they were pretty sure they had it all planned out, Bobby stood up and said, "OK let's get this 'come to Jesus meetin' started."

Bill Stokes looked at him and said, "So that 'aw shucks' routine you pulled on me wasn't complete hog wash?"

Bobby flashed his sweet, open grin and replied, "Hey, you of all people ought to know a good ole Southern drawl can work wonders in a tense situation."

Bill just slapped him on the back and said, "Mother, I don't know whether it's a good idea to leave the boy here or not. Between this one and Greg, who knows what we're gonna get back."

Alan stood up and led his small band of brigands down the hall towards the elevator. "Let's hope this works and you get a physically AND mentally healthy man back when we're through."

Jillian Stokes looked over at him and replied, "From your lips to Gods ears Dr. Perkins."
* * *
Nick was pacing back and forth when the door opened. He expected to see his folks but instead, it was one of the newer orderlies; a young man with a pocket tag that identified him as Phillip. He told Nick he was there to take him down to a larger, better furnished room. There was only one really comfortable chair in his room and it wasn't good for long visits.

Nick was thinking to himself that it wasn't going to be a long visit. He was going to convince his folks to get him out of there and he would be back in his own house in time for the 6.00 PM news.

Phillip took Nick down one floor and knocked on a door just a short way down the hall from the elevator. A muffled 'come in' was heard and he opened the door, stood back and allowed Nick to enter. He smiled when Dr. Perkins thanked him for bringing Nick and told him they would see that he got safely back to his room. He was free to continue his normal duties.

Nick walked in the room. His mother rose and came forward to take him in her arms. He had forgotten how wonderful his mother's hugs felt and how good she smelled. She always wore Elizabeth Arden's 'Alliage'. It smelled of green grass and fragrant herbs and he had loved the scent as long as he could remember. He held her for a long time and felt the tears start. He tried to hold them back as he let her go and turned to his father. He reached his hand out and was completely taken aback when his father, instead of shaking his hand as they usually did, pulled him into a bear hug. If he thought his mother's familiar hug felt good, the feel of his father holding him close and patting him on the back was indescribable. Everyone was a little wet-eyed when they finally separated and found seats. The room they were in looked exactly like someone's nicely decorated living room. There was a couch and several chairs, a big coffee table with a silver coffee service and plates of sandwiches and pastries. Jillian at once fell into her 'Southern Gentlewoman' persona and poured coffee for everyone while Alan insisted they fix themselves a plate and get comfortable. Both Jillian and Bill thanked him for the hospitality remarking that airline food should be bagged, tagged and examined at the nearest lab to see if there was any recognizable 'food' in it at all.

They chatted for a while and finally Nick could not stand it any longer and said that this was all real nice but he was sure his folks were tired and he was too and he wanted to get them home to his place. Little did he know he had just played right into the good doctor's hands.

Alan put his plate down, leaned forward and said, "Well Nick, considering you were in a coma for eight days, I can't in all good conscious release you until I'm sure you are completely recovered. The last time we talked, you said you still didn't remember what happened and that loss of memory has both me and your folks concerned enough to think you need more treatment.

Nick felt every muscle in his body tighten up so hard, he swore he could feel his balls jump up into his stomach cavity. He carefully set his cup down and smiled at Alan; wishing he could just bare his teeth and tear the guy to pieces.

"Well now Dr. Perkins, that's not exactly what I said. I said I couldn't remember what happened after those guys jumped me. They must have knocked me out and everything after that was gone but I remember the events leading up to my attack."

"Do you really? I must have misunderstood you. I could have sworn you told me you had no recollection of ever going in that bar." Alan knew exactly how a fisherman felt when he got a good strike. He was just reeling him in so he could set the hook.

"I do think you misunderstood me. That bar was the scene of several crimes during the three months after its opening. We'd been called there more than once for assaults and robberies. I thought maybe there was some drug activity going on so I decided to drop in there one morning when I got off work a little early and just check it out for myself."

Bill said, "My God son weren't you putting yourself in danger doing that? Do they allow CSI's to go undercover here?"

Nick realized he had two formidable opponents in his parents. He couldn't pull the wool over their eyes like he was sure he could Alan's. They had too much knowledge of the legal system from every angle. He was going to have to be very careful.

"No dad they don't and I wasn't trying to do undercover work. I just wanted to go there as a private citizen, look around a little, have a beer and see if there was anything going on that didn't feel right. It might give us an extra edge the next time we were called out there."

Alan looked closely at the elder Stokes. It never ceased to amaze him that women were called the 'weaker sex'. In his opinion, women were stronger than men every time. He could tell from the expressions on their faces that Judge Stokes was buying every single word Nick was saying. He could also tell that Mama Stokes wasn't. He knew the story of how Greg and his two friends had discovered Nick was in trouble and how they got him out. The senior Stokes did not. Greg had insisted that Nick be given a chance to come clean with his folks OR agree to counseling. If either of those scenario's had occurred, Greg would keep his mouth shut forever. Alan had told him he was blowing smoke. Nick would never in a million years either tell the truth OR accept the fact that he needed help.

Bill was nodding his head as his son was talking. He turned to Jillian Stokes and asked, "What do you think dear? Perhaps just another week off to get his strength back and then back to work. What do you say?"

Jillian looked at her husband and her son. The two faces were so much alike and her heart ached because of the hope on both faces. Her husband was hoping that everyone had jumped to conclusions about his favorite boy and his favorite boy; well he was hoping that they were both buying his line of bullshit.

And that was exactly what Jillian Stokes said. "Bullshit."

It would have been funny if the situation had not been so grave. Both men sort of gasped and blinked at her. Her husband said, "Jillian" in a very scandalized voice.

Jillian Stokes turned to Alan and told him it was time to bring out the big guns. He smiled at her, reached for the phone on the table beside him. He pressed 3 buttons and when the phone was picked up on the other end said, "Will you please join us now?"
* * *
Nick felt as though he had just stepped on a land mine. One moment, he knew he had his dad; he knew he had him completely and the next,his mother said 'Bullshit'. His mother, who was the most completely feminine woman he'd ever known said 'Bullshit'. Now, the door was opening and Greg and Bobby were walking into the room. What was worse, his mother was putting her hand out to Greg and pulling him down on the couch beside her. WHAT THE HELL WAS GOING ON?

Alan turned to Bobby and Greg and asked them if they'd heard the conversation clearly in the other room. Nick turned an alarming shade of red and yelled at everyone, "Do you mean you had them listening in on what was supposed to be a privileged conversation between me and my doctor?. You fucker, I could have you disbarred for that."

Alan started to answer him but his mother intervened. "Nicholas Aron Stokes, you calm down this minute. In the first place, Dr. Perkins technically is not your doctor. He is representing the clinic here and both your father and I knew the boys were listening. Since we are the one's paying the bill, our consent is what matters and if you want to challenge me on that, we have power of attorney to act for you. When you had been in a coma for 72 hours, we had the power drawn up so we could act on your behalf."

Nick did not sit down, he collapsed like a punctured balloon. He knew there was no way in the world he could go against his mother when she put on the 'cloak of authority'. "So now what, we all join hands and sing a rousing chorus of 'What the World Needs Now?" If they thought he was just going to give up and let them do what ever they wanted to him they had another thought coming.

"No Nick, now Greg is going to tell you and your parents how and why he and Bobby and Steve risked their lives and their jobs to come rescue you; or are you going to try and claim you had the situation under control."

Nick did not say a word. He crossed his arms belligerently across his chest and waited to see what Greg had to say.

Greg was just wishing the floor would open up and swallow him. He did not want to do this. He had come to care for Judge and Mrs. Stokes. They were really good people. Jillian treated him as though he was Nick's partner and not his ex-fuck buddy. Bill Stokes was trying as hard as he could. He occasionally forgot what Greg had been to his son and acted like he could like him if they were just friends.

Jillian said, "Greg, I know you don't want to do this, but you have to. You have to let Bill and Nick know just how bad things are. They have to hear the words before they can do anything to correct the problem."

Nick looked coldly at his mother, "The only problem I see is the one you and dad have caused by keeping me a prisoner here."

Greg raised his head and glared at Nick. "Don't you dare speak to your mother like that. Do you have any idea how much she and your dad have suffered since this whole mess started?"

He stood up and started pacing around the room. He started with the frantic call he'd gotten from Rob.

Nick interrupted him, "I should have known that faggot friend of yours had something to do with this. Of course, you jumped the minute you heard his voice didn't you. I bet he was creaming his pants while he was telling you he'd seen me in a gay bar. What was his problem? Did I ignore him?"

"No Nick, or rather yes, you did ignore him. He was the bartender who served you your beer and he did not call me until he saw you going into the back room with two of the three stooges after watching you rub your ass all over his dick while you were dancing with him. When he saw the third stooge heading back there, he knew you were in trouble. His exact words to me were Nick thought there were two of them and he went to the back with them but they always play in three's and they play rough. There is always blood to clean up after they use a room. You need to get here fast and if you've got a gun, bring it."

"I called Bobby and he and Steve met me at the club. Steve impersonated a police officer to get us into the club. Rob, the faggot Rob, greeted us when we came into the club and while pretending to seat us, he told us how to get to the back and what room they had you in. When we kicked the door in, you had...."

Nick said "Stop...for my mothers sake don't go any further."

Greg said, "So you do remember now?"

"No, not for sure but based on the injuries I've been treated for I can guess what you saw when you broke in."

Nick was struggling. He was weighted down with shame and remorse and sadness. How could he have called Rob a faggot? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black!

"Nick, you need to know that Rob, the faggot..."

Nick raised his hand. "Don't say that again. I had no right calling him that. Please don't say that word again."

"Ok, but you need to know that Rob is the one who figured out how to get you out of that hell-hole. He stole the keys to the back door from the owner's office. He stood guard while we went and got the cars and opened the back door for us so we could get back in. He was even going to help us carry you out but we had the three stooges cuffed to chairs in that slaughterhouse and we didn't want them to know he was the one who tipped us off. "

Bobby spoke up for the first time. "You know Nicky, Rob probably saved your life. From the amount of blood you'd already lost when we broke in, I don't think you would have lasted too much longer. And I'm tellin' you Texas, it wouldn't have been a pleasant end."

Nick put his head in his hands. He could not look at his mother or his father. Hell, he didn't even want to look at Dr. Perkins. No one spoke for a good ten minutes. He finally raised his head and met his mother's beautiful eyes. He saw no disgust, no hatred; only love. That was the only emotion he saw in her soft, wet brown eyes. He had gotten those eyes. His were just like hers. He wondered if he'd gotten her indomitable will.

He looked at his father. His father looked old and grey. Nick had never thought of his dad as old; never until now. His dad looked up at him. Nick could not read him the way he could his mother. He had no idea what was going through his father's mind at that moment.

When Judge Stokes did speak, his voice was old and weak. In a quivery voice he said, "My lord son, how could we have failed you so badly? I know I was always trying to force you into the path I wanted for you. Is that what caused this? Is that why you had to go to a place like that?"

Nick had always heard the term 'broken heart' but for the first time he realized it was for real. He knew from the pain he felt at his dad's words that his heart was breaking. How could he have done this to his parents? He got up and went over to his father. He got down on his knees in front of him and laid his hands on his knees.

He forced himself to look right in his dad's tear filled eyes. "Dad, you and mom never failed me. You never did anything but love me and try to teach me right from wrong. I know you and I butt heads bad when I left Texas to come here but when you realized I was serious, you backed down and you both have been nothing but supportive ever since. I don't know why I went there. I was hurting and I thought it was so completely different from what I usually liked that it would make me forget. I guess I forgot for 8 days. But this was one mistake and I've learned my lesson. Please take me out of here."

Judge Stokes looked at this beautiful young man; his youngest and he admitted it now to himself, his favorite. He looked at those beautiful, dark, brown eyes so much like his mothers and finally realized how sick his boy was.

"Greg, was this one mistake?"

"No sir, Nick has been going to gay bars ever since he started with the crime lab."

Nick swung around and yelled at Greg, "How the hell can you say that. You don't know me. Just because we hung around together and played video games together, you think you can say things like that about me. You're crazy."

Bobby stood up and walked over to Nick and sat down on the arm of his dad's chair. He reached out and grabbed Nick's shoulder and pulled him around to face him.

"Nick, don't dig the hole any deeper than you already have. Remember what Greg and I do for a living? While you were out of it, we were trying to figure out what brought you to 'Ball and Chain'. Do you know what we found out? We took your picture to every single gay bar in Vegas and we found at least one person in every bar who knew you. Not by name of course. Just as a gorgeous guy who came in every once in a while, put on a show on the dance floor and picked up a guy and took him to one of the back rooms. Now that doesn't sound too bad but when we started putting all the stories together, we realized you had to have been goin' at least once a month."

Greg spoke up at that point. "You know Nicky, if you weren't so hot, you could have gotten away with it but even guys who just watched remembered you. We talked to a few of your 'pick-ups'. Every single one of them said they'd give a months salary to have one more go at you. I really enjoyed listening to that."

As angry as Nick was with Greg, he could not ignore the pain in his voice. Greg's whole body was stiff and it was obvious he was barely holding his feelings under control. Nick bowed his head and thought for a moment. How could he get out of this?

Finally he raised his head and looked at his dad and then his mother. "What do you want me to do?"

His dad told him he'd called a man named Conrad Ecklie and asked that Nick be put on unpaid leave of absence due to a critical family emergency. He told him the leave was for six months. Nick gasped when he heard that. His dad heard him but he went on and told Nick that he and his mother wanted him to take the six months, stay in the clinic and work with Dr. Perkins to find out why he felt the need to go to a place like Ball and Chain.

Nick was shaking his head no before his dad even finished talking. He told them he could not stay at the clinic, he would go stark, staring mad and as for working with Dr. Perkins, he was the last person in the world he would trust to help him with emotional problems. He got up and went over to the window. He could hear everyone in the room behind him talking as though he wasn't still in the room.

Suddenly Nick realized the window was acting just like a mirror and he could see what everyone in the room was doing. He saw 'Alan' walk over to Greg. He put his hand on Greg's shoulder and began to rub his hand over Greg's back. He was talking softly in Greg's ear and Nick could see the tension leave Greg's body as the doctor continued rubbing his back. Then the hand went up to Greg's other shoulder and he hugged the young man to him. Nick saw Greg lean his head against Alan's for a second. When he raised his head, he looked in the doctor's eyes and gave him a small smile.

Nick felt a fire of pure rage start in his toes and rush up until it consumed his whole body in a blinding flame. He didn't realize until much later he'd clenched his hands so hard, his nails had cut into his palms in a few places. He was screaming in his mind.

MINE, MINE, MINE, MINE. HE'S MINE YOU COCK-SUCKING SON-OF-A-BITCH. HOW DARE YOU PUT YOUR HANDS ON WHAT BELONGS TO ME? I'LL KILL YOU. I'LL RIP YOU TO PIECES AND STUFF YOUR PRICK DOWN YOUR THROAT. GREG IS MINE, BODY AND SOUL AND HE WILL ALWAYS BE MINE.

Nick was amazed to see everyone in the room still talking. Greg was standing beside Bobby and Bobby had his arm around his friend. JESUS CHRIST, DID EVERYONE IN THE WORLD THINK THEY HAD THE RIGHT TO TOUCH HIS PROPERTY. BOBBY, GET YOUR FUCKING ARM OFF MY BOY-FRIEND.

That must mean that the words screaming inside his head were just that; inside his head. He hadn't said them out loud. That meant he still had an edge; plus they didn't realize he could see what they were doing.

He turned back around and cleared his throat. At once, every head in the room turned in his direction. He knew he had to put on the performance of his life. He had to be apologetic and wounded and make them think he was buying into this whole pile of shit. But if it meant, keeping them away from Greg, he could do it. He had been putting on a brilliant performance for twenty-five years. This would be a piece of cake.

"Do all of you think this is necessary; please stay out of this Dr. Perkins. I'm asking my family and my friends."

His mom and dad looked almost hopeful. Nick had a moment's twinge when he thought of how he was fooling them but it quickly went away when he saw that Bobby still had a hand on Greg's shoulder. Everyone started talking at the same time and the gist of it all was YES, they all thought this was something that would help him get control. He almost laughed out loud at that. God if they only knew. He was the one in complete control of everyone in the room.

He looked down and thought about the expression he should have on his face when he looked back up; scared, yeah that and determined and a little lost. That should do it. He looked back up and said, "Ok, I will try. But, I'm going to be here with no one at all familiar around me and mom and dad I know you can't get up too often."

Right on cue, both Greg and Bobby said, almost in unison, "Nick, we'll be here every chance we get and Steve wants to come see you too. We won't leave you alone we promise."

Nick turned away, supposedly overcome with emotion. Actually he needed to hide the grin he could feel bubbling up around the edges of his mouth. When he had himself under control again, he turned back and added, "And if I have to stay in that room all the time, I will go insane for sure."

His folks turned to Dr. Perkins. Alan said, "Nick, we have a pool, a complete gym, a huge library and beautiful grounds. If you are serious about giving this a try, there is no reason why you can't have access to every amenity the clinic has to offer."

Nick made sure his voice shook just a little as he said, "Ok. I'm going to give it a try."

He slowly put his hand out to Bobby and Greg. They both reached out to him; Bobby grabbing his hand and shaking it like he really meant it and Greg grabbed Nick's other arm and hung on with both hands. His mom and dad came over and joined in the group hug.

Inside he was thinking, "Perkins, you bastard, you're never going to know what hit you."

Hello there, I'm the Narrator and if you're still with me at this point...well you must be pretty confused. Don't feel bad. Everyone is confused; Alan, Greg, Bobby, Nick's folks, Nick...Hell, I'm telling this story and even I'm confused.

I will give you all one hint. Alan's hypothesis about Nick and Greg's joining was right on the money. Nick really did panic when his prayers were answered. There is a reason for old sayings and the old saying, "Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it" is one of the most dangerous warning's in myth and legend.

Let's talk some ancient history here. Way back in the beginning, Greg's first night on the job, he and Nick were introduced. While they were shaking hands and saying hi, how are you there were all sorts of things going on beneath the surface.

Greg was babbling in his own mind, "Oh my God, he is the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life. Be still my beating heart and while I'm at it, you, yeah you, PRICK, I'm talking to you. Don't you even think about getting hard. I don't care if you want to jump on him or in him for that matter. Just cool it. My boss, the great GG (Gil Grissom) is standing here and I can tell he's already worried about leaving his precious evidence in my hands. The last thing I need to do right now is get a hard on when he introduces me to sex on two legs. Oh my God, I've got to say something but I can't when all I want to say is 'can I bear your children. OH what's that, I'm a male, you're a male, we can't have kids. Who cares? I could spend the rest of my life letting you fuck me to see if something might happen."

The really funny thing was that while Greg was smiling and saying his 'Hi's, How are you's", Nick was doing his own soliloquy in his mind, only his went something like this.

"Damn, I wonder if his lips are really as soft as they look and wouldn't they look good wrapped around my cock. I wonder if that spiky hair would tickle me when he sucks me down and oh Lord, look at those dark eyes and long eyelashes. He's just too damn gorgeous to be a guy. I can just see those eyes looking up at me while I shove his ankles up around his ears and try to drill through his butt and straight into the mattress. Good God, these pants are tight. Well I guess I ought to be glad about that because if he licks his lips just.....Oh crap he did it again. Come on Greg, stop licking your lips and start licking my balls and anything else of mine you want to lick. Jesus Stokes, he's a kid and he's your co-worker. Get a grip on yourself. Oh yeah I could get a good grip on my cock, laying in bed watching him take that wild shirt and those baggy pants off, watching him shove his briefs down to his ankles and then walk naked towards me. Ready to crawl on top of me and ride my aching dick until we're both ready to explode."

You see, they've both been on the same page from the get go. So why did it take them seven years to get together? Glad you asked; simple stupidity and jumping to conclusions. It didn't take Greg long to make friends with the rest of the lab rats and he found out right away Nick was one of their favorite topics of conversation. The only problem was, all the conversation was about what a player he was. Jackie even made the comment one day that between him and Warrick, they had probably bedded every single female in the greater Las Vegas area that wasn't a certifiable bow-wow; present company excluded of course. It seems that neither Nick nor Warrick openly played with their co-workers.

And Nick, well Nick was skilled at hearing conversations he wasn't supposed to hear. He'd heard Greg tell Sara that a 'real man' wouldn't mind the fact that she smelled like decomp. He'd heard him ask Catherine if she thought Sara would go out with him. He'd heard Catherine tell him more than once to stop looking down her blouse. He'd caught him checking out DNA one quiet day in the lab and when he asked him what case he was working, Greg had said they were from a girl friend. He was checking to see if her DNA was OK and he commented that she had some fine-looking epithelial's.

See what I mean? They were stupid conclusions being made by supposedly smart people. What's that? You would make the same conclusions if you'd heard those comments. Well yeah maybe but what neither of them took into consideration was the fact that they flirted with each other like crazy. There is just nothing else to call it but flirting.

Greg would make coffee from his secret stash of expensive stuff and always kept a fresh hot cup for Nick. Nick would come into the lab for results and stand right up against Greg's back and often would put his hand on his shoulder and sometimes he would put his other hand, open and flat right against Greg's chest. Greg was always scared to death when he did. He was afraid that Nick would feel the way his heart pounded faster and harder just because it was Nick's hand on his body.

Greg would talk to Nick in a soft, suggestive tone and the double entendres flew out of his mouth when he was talking to him. They played 'Name that Compound' constantly getting in each other's way to get to the board and their bodies would rub together or bounce off each other. Their hand's touched as they scribbled on the glass or wiped the glass clean.

What was being said had nothing to do with what was going on any time they were together. Nick came very close to telling Greg how he felt when he was so badly injured when the lab blew up. He sat beside his bed all one night, holding his hand and praying for his safe recovery. He had just decided to take a chance and see what happened when one of the nurses came in and fussed about him being there. He told her he had just got off work and stopped to see how his co-worker was doing before he went home. She said she would give him a few minutes but they had to start changing his bandages so he had to leave.

Nick knew it would take a lot more than a few minutes to get his courage up to say anything so he just leaned over and kissed Greg gently on the cheek and left.

Greg would have taken the chance and told Nick how he felt after the Nigel Crane incident if he could have gotten just five minutes alone with him. He was guarded and protected almost round the clock and the moment passed. The same thing happened with the Walter Gordon affair only worse. Greg was devastated by the whole situation and the only way he got through it was by shutting down all emotion. Afterwards, Nick's large family was with him all the time and again the moment passed.

By the time Greg killed Demetrius James and got the shit kicked, beat and stomped out of him, he'd come to the conclusion that his hopeless passion for Nick was just that; hopeless. He'd accustomed himself to the casual one-night stands and pickups he settled for. They took care of the physical need's in the same way going to the bathroom took care of a full bladder. It was a temporary fix. They did nothing for the emptiness in his heart and soul.

And Nick, well we all know how Nick was solving his sexual urges. Then Nick had a birthday, and got scared about getting older and worried about his future and came to the realization that he did not want to go back to Texas at all. He wanted to stay right here in Las Vegas. He also wanted to be more than a CSI 3 and he was tired of living in someone else's place, with someone else's rules and laying out money every month with nothing to show for it so....Nick bought a house.

Nick's friends came to help him with the house. Nick threw a party. Greg stayed to help him clean up after the party. Greg asked about Nick's bedroom and Nick showed it to him.

Something about having Greg in his bedroom, decorated exactly the way Greg had described his dream bedroom (along with the killer Margarita's Nick had been drinking all night) lulled Nick's fears and inhibitions into a coma and he made a pass at Greg. He really only intended to test the waters and see if Greg was interested but when he tried to tell Greg he did not intend for him to crawl into bed with him right then and there, Greg interrupted him with a warm, wet kiss and with seven years of sexual tension between them; well it was Katy bar the door.

They had sex, oh boy did they ever have sex, quite a few times as it were and there was no going back after that.

BUT Nick was used to sex with a complete stranger and leaving that stranger after the sex and sex on his terms. Now, Greg was anything but a stranger and there was no leaving Greg. It didn't matter if they were in bed, in the kitchen or trying to watch TV, Greg was wrapped around or on top of Nick all the time. And the bad thing was, Nick loved it. He could not get over the fact that Greg's lips really were as soft as he had thought and now all his dreams were coming true. He saw those soft lips wrapped around his cock anytime he wanted. The spiky hair was gone but the soft, silky curls did not tickle him, instead they brushed up against his thighs and his dick and his ass and any part of his anatomy he wanted. He was afraid he would never get used to lying in his bed and watching Greg take him deep in his throat while he watched Nick with his big chocolate eyes thru those killer long, dark eyelashes. And as far as having sex on his terms, he got over that notion the night he found himself in bed rimming his new boyfriend with the sort of enthusiasm he usually reserved for a thick T-bone steak.

Nick was completely out of control where Greg was concerned. Greg could make him forget about anything and everything with just a kiss or a gentle drift of his hand across the almost constant bulge in Nick's jeans. And my god when Greg leaned back against Nick's body and rubbed his ass across his aching erection, he didn't even care that he was out of control.

He knew that he didn't deserve complete love, complete happiness and complete submission like Greg was lavishing on him. He knew if Greg ever found out about the trips to the gay clubs, the number of times he'd let complete strangers use his body and Oh God the times after Crane and Gordon. The complete submersion into depravity that Nick had used to handle his fear and terror would disgust Greg completely. He would never again offer his beautiful body into Nick's hands and let him do any thing he wanted with it.

And so, to try to ease the pain he knew was coming, Nick began to force ridiculous conditions on Greg. On one hand, he didn't want him out of his sight. Even at work, when they were on separate cases, Nick felt edgy until the moment when he got back to the lab and saw Greg. He wanted Greg in his house and in his bed 24 hours a day but at the same time, he needed Greg to acknowledge that it was his house. That he Nick, was providing Greg with food, shelter and all the sex he could handle.

Now do you understand how we got to this point?

**************************************** *******

It had been 2 weeks since the intervention and nothing was going the way any of the actors in this play really wanted or expected it to go.

Nick learned early on that Alan took no prisoners. He could not feed him a line of bullshit. Alan recognized it for bullshit and told Nick in no uncertain terms that it was bullshit. After the fifth day in a row of sessions that ended with both Nick and Alan yelling their lungs out at each other, Nick finally realized that he could feed Alan bullshit BUT at the heart of the pile had to be a nugget of truth.

After five days, Alan realized that Nick might not be handing him pure bullshit. It came when Nick admitted for the very first time that he went to the club on purpose. That was the nugget of truth but the reasons he gave for going there, they were still pure bullshit. All of them and they had to be peeled away until the shining bit of truth stood out from everything else. Nick went there on purpose. Now why did he go there?

During the five days, Bobby had come once by himself and once with his partner Steve. Nick found that when he wasn't worrying about Bobby putting his hands on Greg, he could fall back into the old, comfortable relationship he'd had with Bobby. He was also amazed to discover how much he liked Steve just for being Steve. He had always thought of Steve as 'Bobby and Steve'. He'd known him for quite a while but now that he thought about it, it had always been Bobby and Steve; at parties at Catherine's or Jackie's, at holiday get-together's, when they would all decide to go have a few drinks together at a club or a meal at a restaurant.

Nick was thinking about all this in his room that evening after their visit. He sort of snickered to himself about it. He guessed things did change after a guy had practically had his nose in your ass while trying to figure out how to get a huge dildo equipped with barbs out of you without ripping you to pieces. Oh yeah, another thing Alan was right about. Nick remembered everything about his rescue. He remembered wanting to comfort Greg while he was puking his guts out over the 'barbs' remark. He remembered Greg tenderly cleaning Moe or Curly's cum off his face and finding the rip in his mouth and the gentle loving kiss Greg had placed on his torn mouth.

He remembered the anguish in his friend's voices when they saw him and the rage in Greg's yell when he burst into the room. Nick did not know until later that Greg, his gentle Greg who would yell for him to come get a spider out of the bathtub, had grabbed the whip and slammed the handle into Larry's face smashing his teeth in. He'd heard the whole exchange between Bobby, Greg and Larry when they asked for the key's to get Nick out of the cuffs.

But after Steve had found the trigger and removed the dildo, the pain was so bad Nick drifted in and out so he wasn't sure about a lot of things. He realized the reason he didn't know he had Rob to thank for his rescue was because all of Rob's action had taken place outside the room and he hadn't recognized Rob as the bartender when he ordered his beer. He did remember Steve picking his bloody, naked body up in his strong arms and carrying him out of the torture chamber. He came to for a brief moment in the car and remembered Steve holding him against his body to try to shelter him from the bumps in the road as Greg broke all speed records getting him out of there. And that was it until he had woke up in his room with his folks, Greg and Dr. Perkins.

Nick finally acknowledged to himself at least, that he probably owed the three of them his life. He didn't know how to repay them and he could not for the life of him figure out why they had risked so much for him.

Bobby had been pure pleasure during his solo visit. They talked shop, Bobby catching him up on all the cases he'd missed and of course, the latest gossip. He almost fell out of his chair when he told him about Grissom and Sara. He just gaped at Bobby and finally managed to say, "You are shitting me. Grissom and Sara are together and open about it?"

Bobby grinned and said, "Hope to kiss a speckled pup. It's true."

Nick was shaking his head in amazement. "Keerist, as many times as she tried to snare him and he ran what the hell happened"

"I don't know Cowboy. Maybe he just realized he's getting old and it's not like he's ever gonna get anything goin' with Lady Heather so maybe he just settled."

Nick was still shaking his head. "No offense to Sara but those two have about as much chemistry together as Hodges and his computer."

"Hey careful there Hoss, I've seen Hodges send some pretty hot looks at that computer of his." The two men looked at each other and both of them started laughing at the same time.

Dr. Perkins came into the room about then and told them that Nick needed to laugh more than he needed to set through a session. He would come back later. He asked Bobby if he was going to be able to stay a while and when told yes, he asked them if they would like him to notify the kitchen to serve lunch for two in Nick's room. Nick was caught off guard by the kindness of the suggestion and said that would be great with him. He looked at Bobby and asked him if he wanted to eat with him. Bobby said he'd like that. Alan took their food orders and turned to go and Nick said, "Dr. Perkins?"

Alan turned and laughed at Nick and said, "Good God, don't tell me you thought of something else you want to eat. I'm going to have to send the chef shopping as it is."

Nick laughed back at him and said, "No, I just wanted to say thanks for letting me skip the session to be with Bobby."

Alan looked at him for a long second and cataloged in his mind exactly what Nick looked like when he was being completely honest with no barriers and then smiled. "Your welcome, Nick; Bobby, give my love to Steve when you get home and give Chelsi a kiss from her Uncle Alan." Bobby nodded,he would do that.

He and Nick had a great afternoon together. They ate and talked and laughed. Eventually they got around to the subject of Nick's sexuality. Bobby was a little hurt that Nick had not trusted him enough to share his secret with him. Nick thought about telling him that he wasn't sure but found that for once in the last twenty-five years he did not want to lie or hide. He told Bobby he knew he would be OK with it but he felt that as long as it was his secret, it wasn't real. If he told Bobby, if he said the words, it would be a fact and he would have to deal with it. He also admitted he was afraid that Bobby might let it get out not because he couldn't trust Bobby's discretion but simply because Bobby was so comfortable with his long term 'marriage' to Steve and Bobby was so comfortable with his 'gayness' for want of a better word that he would assume everybody was.

When Nick added that he was not comfortable with his 'gayness', Bobby asked him if that was what caused the problems between him and Greg. Nick's head jerked up at that and he asked Bobby what he knew about him and Greg. Bobby told him Greg had turned to him because he was in so much pain after they broke up. He knew if anyone could understand how he was feeling it would be him.

Nick felt the red rage begin to rise again and he could not help the sarcastic "So Bobby what did you do? Did you comfort him, put your arm around him and tell him you would take care of him? He could count on you."

Bobby could be a real hot head when he wanted to but he heard the pain and hurt behind the cruel words. He leaned back in his seat and put his hands on his chair arms. That put him ready if Nick decided to jump him but it also opened up his upper body and made him appear less threatening. He said very calmly, "Yeah Nick I did comfort him. He needed it in the worst way. I took him home with me to Steve. We fed him and kept him at our house in our spare room. The same one, by the way, we kept you in while we waited for Alan to come tend to your wounds. And you know the way Steve held you in the car to keep you from feeling the bumps in the road, well that's exactly the way he held Greg and rocked him in our big chair in the living room when he cried in his sleep."

Nick looked at Bobby for a long time. He looked at the strong chin, the kind face, the calm eyes and the curly hair that sometimes made him look like such a kid. He saw the truth in that face and those eyes. He know Bobby was telling him the absolute truth and he felt such shame he could hardly breathe. He felt the tears come and slowly roll down his face. He tried to talk but nothing came out. He was blinded by the tears that just kept coming and didn't see Bobby get up, cross over and sit down beside him in the little loveseat in his room. He didn't know until he felt Bobby's arm around his shoulder and his big hand using a handkerchief on his face, carefully wiping away the tears.

Nick found his voice then but all he could say was, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. God what's wrong with me. Who am I and what happens to the Nick that knows you love Steve completely and would never hurt him for a casual fling. Not even with someone as hot as Greg."

Bobby laughed and kept wiping tears. "You know Cowboy, Greg is hot and maybe, just maybe, if I'd never met Steve, I might be tempted but I've never been much for group sex and anyone besides you that tries to shag Greg is going to have 3 in his bed; Greg, him and your ghost. Don't you know yet that Greg loves you, has always loved you and probably will never ever love anyone but you? That's why you have got to work with Alan and get well. Not just for you but because Greg's life and happiness depends on what you do here for the next few months. If you have any feelings for the boy, please put your own pride on the back burner and try to find out why you are doin' what you're doin'. Because I'll tell you right now, if you ever get yourself in another fix like that last one, you're on your own. That goes for me, Steve and Greg even if I have to tie him to chair to keep him from trying to rescue you."

Nick leaned into Bobby's strong, warm body and rested on his friend. He quit crying and they just sat together for a while. At last, Nick straightened up and said one more time he was truly sorry for his nasty words and he would try for everyone's sake to work with Alan.

Bobby grinned and asked, "And the next time I feel the urge to grab Greg and hug him to pieces just because he's so damn cute?"

Nick glared at him and said, "Well I guess I'm just going to have to grab Steve and plant a big, wet, sloppy one on him. What do you think about that?"

Bobby roared out loud and said, "I think Steve would be the most confused, happy, horny married gay guy in Las Vegas."

Nick tried to keep glaring but couldn't keep it up; not while Bobby was almost whooping with laughter. He gave up and just started laughing with Bobby.

Laughter is not a bad way to end a visit in a crazy house.

Bobby left several hours ago and Nick was having a quiet dinner in his room. He could have eaten in the dining room with the other 'guests'. He smiled to himself. It was sure funny that the higher the tab, the fancier the titles. No one here was a 'guest'. They were all pretty much prisoners. Yeah, he had the run of the building and the extensive grounds and he had put them to good use.

This clinic was actually pretty nice. The first time Nick had gone to the dining room to eat was before his folks had come to visit. He didn't really want to go down there because he still had his colostomy bag at that time but he was going stir crazy and when Dr. Perkins asked him if he would like to have dinner with him downstairs; Nick was so thrilled at the idea of getting out of his room he didn't think twice about the company. He was just looking forward to the change in scenery.

They unhooked Nick from his collection jar, attached a small, portable, disposable collection bag and when he slipped on a loose pair of sweats, the bag was not noticeable at all. Dr. Perkins took him down stairs; walking slowly to accommodate Nick's weakened condition.

The dining room was a complete surprise. It was beautifully furnished, had silver, china and crystal dinner ware and small menus at each place setting. Alan noticed Nick's surprised expression and laughed, "What were you expecting, Nick?"

"Uhh, plastic trays, plastic dishes and utensils and maybe even plastic glasses. I sure wasn't expecting this."

"Well, we do have the plastic and we have some guests who do have their meals served that way but it's for their protection and so far we've been lucky that it never lasts more than a week or two at the most."

"What kind of 'guests'?"

"Folks, who have tried suicide, drug addicts while they are getting the junk out of their system, same for alcoholics. We use the plastic then because the shakes are usually so bad, a lot of breakage would occur."

The menu had a meat, chicken, fish or vegetarian entrée with assorted side dishes and a really good selection of deserts. Nick had smothered pork chops and Alan selected broiled trout. The food was delicious and Nick found himself almost moaning with pleasure when he took his first bite of chop. The dinner turned out to be the one time Nick could remember when he didn't want to rip Alan's head off.

The exercise facilities included an Olympic sized pool, workout rooms, steam rooms, Jacuzzi; they even had an outdoor AND an indoor track for hard core joggers/runners. Of course, it was the staff that used the tracks. Nick remembered the surprised looks when he had hit the outdoor track that first day after the 'INTERVENTION'.

He found himself thinking about that day in capital letters with quotes. That was the day he realized that he couldn't pull the wool over everyone's eyes like he thought he could. That was also the day he realized that nothing between him and Greg was settled,...God he didn't know what to think about Greg. So that was why he was eating in his room, with some soft music on the stereo. He was settling in for a serious brain drain.

During the two weeks since 'THE DAY', a lot had happened but the last 5 days had been....well, memorable was probably the best word for them. Memorable because Alan and Nick had stopped dancing around each other and had gone to battle bare knuckled and out for blood. It was yesterday, the fifth day, that Nick had finally admitted to Alan that he knew he had gone to the club deliberately. Of course, he still was stonewalling on why he went but they both knew his admission was not only a start but it was a huge admission on Nick's part.

Greg, Bobby and Steve had come as often as possible during the last two weeks. Bobby had waited until after Nick's folks left because it really was hard for him to come between work, Steve and Chelsi, their little girl. Greg had come several times along with his folks and Nick was again amazed at how well his folks got along with Greg. After the second joint visit he finally just blurted out, "So how come you're treating him like one of the kids?"

Jillian gave Nick one of those cool 'I am your mother young man, watch your tone of voice with me' looks and said, "That's a very good way of explaining it."

Nick, realizing he had not gotten an answer, dug in his heels and said, "Maybe but that doesn't answer my question. To the best of my knowledge, you only met Greg once at the lab when I was ... uh,....."

"When you were abducted by that lunatic and buried alive in a plexi-glass box?" Jillian was born to be a prosecutor; she couldn't stop cutting through the bullshit even for her own son.

Nick wondered if he would ever be as brave as his lovely, feminine mother. He knew it hurt her to say those words out loud and yet she had never shied from them the way he still did after 2 years. Nick decided this honesty business was going to be a two-way street. If he had to bare his soul, so did everyone else so he asked the question he'd wanted to ask for the last two years. "Mom, how come you can say that with no hesitation? You could do it right from the beginning and I still have trouble getting the words out."

Jillian came over to sit beside Nick on the small loveseat in his room. She took his hand in hers and thought for a second and then began to speak softly, so softly Nick had to listen very closely.

"Baby, when I became a prosecutor, I was ready to quit every single day for the first three months. The things one human could and did do to another made me physically ill. I came home and threw up 3 or 4 times a week. When I was almost at the end of my strength, I was sitting in church one Sunday listening to Brother Walters talk about good and evil. He said, 'the smartest thing the devil ever did was to convince folks he didn't exist'. And then he added that he read somewhere once that the only thing necessary for evil to exist is for good folks to do nothing. "

"I thought long and hard and I realized that you can't close your eyes and pretend evil doesn't exist. You have to keep your eyes open and face it down. You have to call it by name and drag it kicking and screaming out into the harsh light of day; because evil thrives in the dark. You turn the bright light of truth and exposure on it and it shrivels up."

"Now, I know you have a lot of things you need to face up to and in your own time you have a lot of things you need to tell me and your daddy and we are willing to wait until you are ready to tell us. But we cannot ignore the fact that Greg and Bobby and Steve risked their lives to save you and are risking their jobs every single day to keep your secret and make sure you have a place to go back to when you're ready. Because of them, you will go back without all the painful secrets you've had to keep for the last few years. They are as much a part of our family as you and your sisters and brother are and we love them and honor them for their devotion to us."

So in honor of his brave, beautiful mother and his surprisingly supportive father and his friends who had risked life, limb, honor and employment for him, Nick was going to devote his evening to some serious thinking.

First, his mom and dad had both brought up the subject of his siblings. The Stokes tended to live in each other's pocket and the fact that the parents had already made 2 long trips to Las Vegas in a very short time had escaped no one's notice. According to Jillian, even the sister currently living in Chicago had called to ask what's up. It was getting harder and harder to keep them from finding out and Nick was truly expecting one or more of them to show up in town and track him down. So first on his list, let his folks tell them he was on sabbatical because of delayed PTSD. Make sure they understood that no one at the crime lab was to know why he was off and they could not all descend on the clinic because his doctor wouldn't let them and he couldn't handle it. He knew his folks would keep his physical condition private. That was not something he wanted the world to know even if there were no signs of his ordeal now, other than the little dimple on his right side from the bag. He wasn't even having problems going to the bathroom anymore.

Second, well let's face it, 2 through 100 were all Greg. How did he feel about Greg? Why did he see red when someone else (male someone else) touched Greg? Did he love him? Did he just lust for him? It all came back to Greg.

Greg had been to see Nick almost every day. He missed the days Bobby and Bobby and Steve came. He'd missed 2 other days because of double shifts but of the 14 days since the 'DAY', he'd only missed 4 days seeing Nick.

He brought snacks at first but stopped when Nick told him he could have anything he wanted in the way of food, to stop wasting his money. When he saw Nick's TV set up in his room, he brought his Play Station and an assortment of games and they played video games. He worked out with Nick and Nick couldn't decide if it was Heaven or Hell to sit in the steam room with Greg wearing just a towel slung around his slim hips. He found it almost impossible to hold a conversation with him in the steam room. He was scared to death he would open his mouth and say something he shouldn't. But the one thing that Greg brought every time he came; the one thing that Nick realized was the highlight of his day was his beautiful, bright smile. The one he seemed to keep just for Nick. The one that said he was so happy to see him. That smile had always been the one thing that could break through every defense Nick tried to throw up against the young man.

So if he really felt that way, why the breakup? Was he lying when he told Greg he loved him? About this time, Nick's sub-conscious joined the conversation.

"What do you mean, 'when you told him'? Ass-hole, you never told him.

"Sure I did, I told him all the time."

"When? Just give me one time when you said, 'Greg, I love you'."

"Well, that first fight we had."

"The first fight huh? Would that be one where you held him down and almost smothered him while you tore his butt open?

"Hey, that's a little harsh. I don't remember it that way."

"Then I suggest you stroll down memory lane with me and I'll give you a blow by blow because I remember it. I was there. You were stuck working a double homicide and he had cleared his case. You gave him a list of groceries you needed and told him you would see him at home as soon as you could get a break. When you got home, he was sound asleep in the middle of the bed, the house was a mess, the sink was full of dishes and there were no groceries. You woke up him up and demanded to know what the hell was wrong. He said he'd been heading out to the grocery store but Rob and Lance had called and told him to meet them at Inferno for a drink and a bite to eat. He was just going to spend an hour or too with his friends but the club was jumping and they were the hottest guys in there and everyone kept buying them drinks and by the time he got free, he was pretty smashed. He just barely remembered getting home and he sure wasn't thinking about groceries.

Nick felt sick. As his mind kept recalling more and more details about that first bad fight he realized he'd buried it deep inside because it had not been his finest hour. Greg had tried to apologize and tell Nick that if he could just get a few more hours of sleep, he would get up and go get everything on the list while Nick stayed in bed and caught up on his sleep. Nick remembered getting madder and madder. He was working his butt off, he was paying all the bills, he always remembered what Greg needed, what Greg liked but his lazy-ass boyfriend; he couldn't even remember that the list was because they were out of almost everything. There wasn't even something for Nick to fix a snack from before he 'got caught up on his sleep'. He started yelling at Greg; telling him he was lazy and selfish. Greg had told him how sorry he was and what could he do to make it up to him.

Nick closed his eyes when he remembered telling Greg to turn over. He also remembered telling him he wasn't good for anything except fucking so he might as well take care of Nick that way. For the life of him, Nick could not remember preparing Greg for his attack. That was the only word for what he had done to him. He did remember reaching down and grabbing his slim hips and pulling him up on his knees and then he was between his legs and forcing his cock into his narrow, dry hole.

Nick let out an anguished, choked sob. He had raped Greg. He had not prepared him, he had not used lubrication; there were no sweet kisses or tender strokes of his beautiful body. He had forced himself on this gentle loving man and raped him. He remembered coming so hard he'd blanked out for a brief moment and when he got his bearings, he was laying on top of Greg who was weakly fighting to get him off him. He remembered lifting himself up and Greg taking huge gulps of air when his weight lifted off his body. He remembered the ugly, dark splotches already forming on Greg's pale skin. But most of all, he remembered pulling out of Greg and seeing his limp cock covered in blood and then seeing the blood seeping slowly out of Greg's stretched butt-hole. He remembered hearing Greg weeping softly and quietly, trying not to anger Nick any more than he already had.

Nick got up and started pacing around his room trying desperately to forget, to pretend it never happened, to force this ugly memory back down in the sewer of his mind where it belonged. But his mother was right. Once you turn the bright light of truth on evil, it becomes visible. It can't hide anymore. And this had to be evil in its worst form. To do something so cruel and ugly to someone who loved you as completely as Greg loved him, that had to be the worst thing in the world.

Nick forced himself to sit down and pick up the memory. He felt he owed it to Greg to live through the whole nightmare again, because he was willing to bet that Greg was still living through it in his thoughts and dreams.

When he saw what he had done, he was almost speechless. He pulled himself off the bed and went into the bathroom. He got two washcloths and wet one in cool water and one in warm. He went back in and set down on the bed beside Greg. His heart sank when Greg shrank away from him in fear. He started talking to Greg telling him how sorry he was and there was no excuse for what he had done and please, just let him take care of him and try to show him how ashamed he was. Greg finally held still and Nick took the cool, wet cloth and gently wiped his tear-stained face and washed his hands very carefully. Then he told Greg he was going to take care of his injuries and he would be as gentle as he possibly could, he promised. The warm cloth wasn't that warm anymore so Nick went back to the bathroom and got a small basin one of them had brought home from the hospital, filled it with warm water and came back in. He carefully rolled Greg over flat on his stomach and propped pillows under him and then ever so gently, separated his cheeks and got a good look at what he had done. He was crying now as he bathed the torn, lacerated flesh. He went back to the bathroom and got some medicated ointment he'd gotten from his doctor after his journey to the dark place trying to get rid of the fear of being buried alive. His 'threesomes' had caused him to suffer a few tears of his own so he knew how much pain Greg was enduring right now. The difference was, he had deliberately invited his pain. He used it to cover up a deeper pain of the soul. Greg had done nothing to warrant what Nick had done to him.

He very gently inserted the ointment as far as he could in Greg's tender rectum. Then he took everything back into the bathroom and found some Loritab's. He went to get some water but there was none in the fridge and he remembered what started the attack. He let the water run cold from the tap and took the pills and the water back to the bedroom. Greg was right where he'd left him and Nick could see he was shaking with pain and shock. He carefully rolled Greg back over on his side, then helped him sit up and take the pills. He held him and stroked him and ran his fingers through his hair. He asked him if he thought he could get up and sit in the chair for a moment. Greg asked why. He told him he wanted to change the bed sheets. He knew Greg would be more comfortable in a clean bed.

Nick wasn't honest then but he was now. He wanted to change the sheets partly for Greg but the truth was, he wanted to get rid of the blood, semen and fecal stains that were visible proof of the brutal rape he had committed. Greg said he didn't think he could sit but he could lean against the wall if that's what Nick wanted.

Nick had held it together but when he remembered the expression on Greg's face offering to stand up because Nick wanted to change the bed he felt the hot tears of shame filling his eyes. He'd changed the bed and when Greg tried to take a shaky step away from the wall, he'd gone over and picked him up in his arms and carried him back and put him in the clean bed. He'd pulled the sheets and blanket carefully over his violated body and asked him if the pills were helping to ease the pain. Greg said he thought it was helping. Nick asked him if he could sleep. Greg looked at him with those beautiful eyes and said, "I could if you would hold me."

Nick put his head in his hands and gave in to the tears. Even after what he had done to him, Greg still wanted him near him. Good God, he had to be the sickest mother-fucker in the world to treat Greg the way he had.

Nick cried even harder when he realized that yes, he had held Greg for hours and stroked him and told him how sorry he was and that he didn't know what came over him and he would never, ever treat him like that again but he had never, not once, not then or during the times after when he had treated him like that again had he ever said, "I love you."

Alan Perkins was feeling pretty damn good. Life was sweet. He had a thriving practice, he had a beautiful home, he had a little black book that contained the names and numbers of some of the finest ladies in Las Vegas AND most of all, he had finally gotten Nick Stokes to tell him one tiny piece of truth. Now most people would not be walking on cloud nine because of an 'I went there on purpose' but those people had not been dealing with Mr. Stokes and his avoidance issues. Alan knew from past experience that all he needed was one teensy, tiny hole in the façade of his patient and he could worm his way inside.

It was 10:30pm which was early for Alan to be settling in for the night but he had a busy day ahead of him tomorrow. Alan's practice was not only thriving, it was varied and covered a large geographical area from the Meijer Clinic in Henderson to consulting at another private clinic in Reno. In order to keep himself organized and on time for all his appointments, Marie, Alan's 'worth her weight in gold' assistant, faxed a schedule to his private home fax every evening. Alan had trained himself to read over that list each night before he went to sleep. Several of those fine ladies from his little black book had been somewhat insulted when Alan had jumped out of bed, ran to his office and come back to bed with a fax. Alan always smiled, complimented them and then told them if they wanted the best restaurant's and the 'A' wine list and let's not forget the pretty little baubles he gifted them with, the list had to be read every night; no matter what.

Tomorrow's list was not long as far as appointments went, but Marie's notes on the four appointments he had were quite explicit. He had two appointments in Las Vegas; Alan smiled when he saw the names. He could never understand the people who objected to gay marriage because it was so 'unnatural'. Alan discovered quite early in his practice that two people in an intimate relationship acted the same no matter what their gender. Cases in point were his two appointments tomorrow. The Halverson's, husband and wife, were having problems with in-law interference, sex and money. The Barnes-Wilson's, husband and husband, were having problems with sex, money and in-law interference. See what I mean?

Both couples had been patients for approximately the same length of time and both were progressing but tomorrow's appointments for both couples were going to be pivotal. Alan saw that Marie had scheduled an hour and a half for each.

He had one fairly new patient he would be seeing in her home. Alan usually did not make house calls but this patient had developed Agoraphobia after a particularly brutal rape. Her husband was a prominent member of the old Las Vegas families (as in part of the New York mob members who had relocated when things got too hot on their old home turf) and the money was phenomenal. After working with the wife for 2 months and observing the relationship between the spouses, Alan had notified her husband that his rate would be $150.00 an hour plus $25.00 for a house call. Now that sounds like a lot but the husband had offered $1000.00 a week for one hour. When asked why he was changing the rate, Alan told the husband simply. "She needs me and so do you."

When Marie opened the mail after that visit and a check fell out for $25,000.00 she almost fainted. She called Alan and asked him what the HELL was going on; had he agreed to become a mob therapist? Alan told her he would look into it; no, he wasn't going over to the dark side and she had to stop watching re-runs of The Soprano's. When he called the husband and asked for an explanation, the husband replied, "You're right, we do need you and thank God I am able to pay for what I need. You're worth it and if you don't want to accept it from me as payment then consider it a contribution and use it for other patients like Jenny (his wife) who need you and can't pay for you." You just never know when you are going to run into a genuinely good guy.

His fourth appointment was Nick and he could hardly wait. For some reason, Nick had captured Alan's fancy in a way that few patients did. Alan was as straight as they come so it had nothing to do with his extraordinary good looks. It could be partly because of Alan's almost instant attachment to Greg. As I said, Alan was completely hetero and loved his ladies. That was the problem; he loved them too much. He had realized early on that he was not marriage material because he just could not stop looking, wanting to touch and possess. He just simply could not be faithful so he made the choice to stay single and play the field. However, he did like kids and sort of missed the idea of having a son to raise and care for.

He had thought when he first met Greg that he was much younger than his 32 years. He looked it and he acted younger. When Alan finally got around to getting the basics on his new patient, he didn't care anymore. He admired the brilliant, hurting young man completely and really had to work to keep his professional and personal opinions separate. It wasn't as weird as it sounded. Alan was 52, Greg was 32; there were lots of dads who were twenty when they had their first one. Alan was thrilled when Greg stood up to Judge Stokes and asserted his right to demand respect. It meant that Greg was no longer his patient and they could establish a closer connection.

As a surrogate father, even if Greg didn't know it, Alan felt he had a right to be concerned about the man his 'boy' was involved with. When he got the call from Bobby, he dropped everything and ran because Bobby was also a dear friend and he didn't take advantage of their friendship. If he asked for help right now, he needed help right now. When Alan got to Bobby and Steve's house and found Greg there with them and all three of them covered in blood, he realized he was opening a huge can of worms. He almost threw up when he saw what had been done to Nick and when he did a preliminary rectal exam and saw the horrific damage; he did vomit. At that moment, he realized he was going to be involved with all of these men and he was going to be walking a very fine, very high, wire between friendship and professional behavior.

Alan's reminisces were interrupted by his phone. He glanced at the called ID and when he say Meijer Clinic, he grabbed for the phone. He had 4 patients besides Nick and all 5 of them were in the early stages of treatment which meant anything could be important. When he heard Charles voice, his heart sank.

Meijer's was a very exclusive clinic. The prices charged included a staff that was highly trained with exceptional credentials. Alan and Gordon Meijer had established the habit of assigning specific orderlies to each patient and keeping them with that patient throughout their entire stay.

Charles and Phillip were the two orderlies assigned to Nick Stokes and Charles had been with the clinic since it opened. His feel for the patients was almost psychic, especially when he genuinely liked the patient and Nick was one of his favorites. If Charles said, 'I'm concerned', you better by God believe there was something to be concerned about. Charles was concerned about Nick.

Alan told Charles to wait a second; he needed a pad of paper. When he was settled at his desk where he could take notes quickly in his own form of shorthand, he put the phone on speaker so he had both hands free and told Charles to tell him everything.

"When I came on duty, I saw that Nick had ordered dinner in his room. I was puzzled because he's been going to the dining room for all his meals and he's made quite a few friends with the other patients and of course, the entire staff just love him. I took his meal up and served him."

"How did he seem?" Alan interrupted.

"He was perfectly normal. I asked him why he wasn't eating downstairs and he said he had some serious thinking to do. I asked him if something had upset him and he said no he'd had a great visit with a dear friend and it had been a real good day. I offered to turn the TV on but he said he preferred some background music. He keeps his CD changer loaded so I just turned it on and put it on random play, told him to page me if he wanted anything else and just as I was leaving, he said he thought he would like to have a cold beer; preferably a Tecate. I told him I would bring it right up and left."

"When I brought the beer, I brought a couple of extras and put them and a small bowl of limes in his room fridge; his file says alcohol is no problem. He had finished his pot roast and asked if there was any chance he could get just a little more. He used his 'puppy dog eyes' as his mother calls it on me so of course I said I would get him another plate and did he want some more cornbread also. He said yes and more butter. Now normally with anyone but Nick I would worry about the amount of food and the rich butter but the way that boy works out, there is not an ounce of fat on his body so I like to indulge him. When I left the next time, he was happily munching his way through his salad and cornbread and eyeing his chocolate cake like he was thinking about a second helping of that also."

"Dr. Perkins, when I came back at 10.00 to pick up his tray and turn his bed down, he was a different person. His face was red and swollen, he could hardly see me. A blind man could see he had been crying, perhaps sobbing hard and for some time. He got up to go to the bathroom and he moved like an old man; as though everything hurt. I've not seen him move like that since the first time he tried to get up after his surgery. I asked him if I could do anything for him. He asked if he could have something to help him sleep. I told him I would go check and I called you at once."

Alan started cursing himself about the time Charles said '10.00' and had worked up a good head of steam. He was damning himself for being a pompous ass when Charles interrupted him with a soft, "I'm so sorry Dr. Perkins. What did I do wrong?"

That's when Alan realized he'd been talking out loud and Charles thought he was calling him an ass. "Good Lord Charles, I wasn't talking to you. I didn't even realize I was talking out loud. I was calling myself a pompous ass because I'd just been sitting here congratulating myself on what a great therapist I was. No, you have done everything just right. Now, here's what I want you to do. Give him a 10 gram phenol-barbital and a 5 gram Zantac. Make sure the head of his bed is elevated. On very rare occasions, that combo can cause problems with breathing. If Nick has been crying as hard as you've described, his mucous membranes are going to be swollen and congested. You might also make sure there is lavender and eucalyptus oil in his mister; set it on vapor and direct it just over his bed. That will help with the breathing and congestion and the lavender may help him relax. "

"I want a 2 hour check starting at 11.00pm. I don't just want someone to stick their head in the door. I want vitals taken every 2 hours. I want him looked at; I want to know if his skin is clammy or too warm. It's to go until he starts to wake normally. Is that understood?"

"Yes Dr. I will check him myself until I go off shift and I'll make sure his 6.00 am nurse is aware of your orders."

"Thank you Charles. I couldn't put him in better hands than yours. I may be calling you back. I know who his visitor was today and he and I are going to have a talk."

Alan took one second to curse himself a little more and then dialed Bobby's cell phone. If he had thought, he would have realized that this was a good time to call because Bobby was just getting ready to head for the lab. The problem was, Alan wasn't thinking. He was just plain pissed. He could not figure out what happened. He knew, he was sure, Bobby had done nothing to upset Nick and if he had, he would have called and told him but Bobby was the only unknown quantity and Alan was going to find out what had happened to his patient if it was the last thing he did.

Bobby answered on the 2nd ring and just barely got a 'Hey Alan' out when Alan aggressively asked him what the hell he had said to Nick after he (Alan) had left. We have mentioned before that Bobby has a temper and he didn't react well to being yelled at by a friend especially after the great afternoon he'd had with Nick. When he got home and discovered that Steve's mother had come and picked up Chelsi so they could fit some new clothes (Steve's mother was an accomplished seamstress and their little girl dressed like a fashion model) well, that was just the icing on the cake. He knew he had to get some sleep before work but as Steve was yanking off his boots and unbuttoning his jeans and dragging them down his legs, along with his briefs, he decided he didn't need that much sleep. By the time Steve had him stripped in their big bed and was taking his clothes off much slower than he'd ripped Bobby's off, he knew that his lovin' man was planning on an evening to remember. Now that made sleep completely unnecessary.

So he was in no mood to be yelled at and he yelled right back at Alan. By the time they both stopped yelling and took a breath, Bobby realized that something bad had happened to Nick.

"Ok man, slow down, stop yelling and tell me what's happening."

"Bobby, Charles just called and said Nick looks like he's been crying for hours, he's lethargic, moving like he's in pain and just generally in bad shape. He wasn't that way at 7.00pm when Charles served him his dinner so what the hell happened. He told Charles he wasn't eating in the dining room because he had some serious thinking to do. What did you two talk about that could have brought this on?"

Bobby was stunned. He told Charles he had no idea. When he left, he and Nick were roaring with laughter over some silly shit they were talking.

Alan told him to take a minute and think if there was anything at all during the afternoon that seemed different.

Bobby went through the entire afternoon in his mind. He deliberately switched to his work mode and examined the visit the way he would study evidence from a crime scene. He remembered Nick's surprise that Bobby knew about him and Greg. He repeated everything that had happened from that point on. He told Alan how Nick had jerked when he asked if his discomfort with his 'gayness' had caused trouble between him and Greg. He told him how he told Nick that Greg had come to him for help in handling the breakup. He told him how Nick changed almost before his eyes and accused him of trying to take advantage of Greg in his moment of weakness.

"Alan, I swear I thought he might come after me. He was red in the face and breathing hard. He didn't look like Nick or sound like Nick."

"What did you do?"

"I got myself set in the chair so if he did jump me I would be ready for him but I put my arms on the chair arms like you taught me, you know, open up your body position and make yourself seem less threatening. I stayed calm and told him I had comforted Greg, not taken advantage of him. I told him I took him home to Steve and we fed him and put him in the same room we'd put him in....."

"That was fast thinking Country; make him remember how you and Steve took care of him and let him see the comparison. Good job." Alan interrupted without thinking because at that moment he was so proud of his friend for remembering much of what he had taught him and others in his 'Averting Confrontations' seminar.

"I told him that Steve had comforted Greg when he had nightmares the same way he'd held Nick in the car to keep the road bumps from jarring him."

"And how did he react?"

"He just sort of collapsed. It was like watching him change back into the Nick I know. He said he was sorry and he said something else that really weirded me out at the time."

"What, what did he say?" Alan asked eagerly.

"He said, "Who am I and then something about what happens to the Nick that knows that I love Steve and wouldn't have a fling with anyone. He scared me Alan because he was talking about himself in the third person. He said I wouldn't do that not even with someone as hot as Greg."

Alan thought for so long that Bobby thought he'd hung up and started yelling, "Hey Alan, are you still there?"

"Yeah I'm here Bobby, don't yell in my ear. Did anything else happen after that, I mean anything that you considered odd?"

"Well just the fact that I had moved over beside him when he started crying and after he said that about Greg, he did stop crying. I felt sorry for him and that loveseat ain't the biggest thing in the world for two grown men, so I put my arm around him and he just leaned against me like Chelsi does when she's tired and ready to go to sleep."

"That's it, That's all? Charles said the nurses told him Nick was in a great mood; that they heard him laughing clear out in the hall."

"Oh yeah. After I moved over to sit beside him, I told him that I agreed that Greg was a doll because let's face it, to a gay man he's pretty much like catnip to a cat, but I knew that anyone trying to get with Greg would have him, Nick that is, in bed with them. I also told him that if he cared anything for Greg at all, to please try and work with you because we would never pull him out of a mess like that again. That's when he apologized and said he would try. That's when he just leaned against me and rested."

"And as for the laughin'......I asked him what he was goin' to do the next time I grabbed Greg and hugged him to pieces because he was just so damn cute and he said well he'd just have to grab Steve and plant a big wet one on him and what did I think about that? I told him that Steve would be the happiest, horniest, most confused gay guy in Las Vegas and just started laughing thinking about the expression on Steve's face if that should ever happen."

"Nick tried to keep glaring at me but then he got tickled and we both just howled. That's how the visit ended."

"Well damn. How did he go from laughing out loud to sobbing until he's sick."

"I don't know Alan, what do you want me to do?"

"Nothing for now Bobby, I've got to see what's going on and most of all, I need to get Nick stable for right now. I'll call you tomorrow and for now, don't say anything to Greg please. He doesn't need anything else to worry him."
**********
If the weather had any sense, it would have been storming with thunder and lightning the next morning. No one was in a good mood.

Charles was worried sick about his favorite patient who had cried intermittently during the night. Nick had never woken up, but it was obvious that he was in distress and his vitals agreed with Charles visual diagnosis.

Nick's morning nurse entered in his chart that he was running a low-grade fever, his heart beat was faster than normal sometimes and thready others, his pulse was racing. He was definitely a sick puppy.

Alan had almost no sleep and when he did, he had nightmares, none of which he could remember when he woke up.

Bobby snapped at everyone so much during his shift, by the end of the night, only Grissom approached him without steeling himself first.

All that was just the introduction; the really bad stuff happened when Nick woke up and informed his nurse that he didn't feel like seeing Alan. He wanted to cancel his appointment and he wanted them to call everyone on his visitors list and tell them not to come until further notice.

Alan was just pouring himself another cup of coffee when the phone rang and a frantic Greg was almost yelling at him. He demanded to know what was going on. Why didn't Nick want to see him anymore? What had happened? The questions were coming so fast, Alan couldn't have answered them even if he'd had a clue what the young man was talking about. It took a few minutes to get him calm enough to give the facts slowly, rationally and in a voice just below a yell. When he asked Greg how he knew Nick did not want to see him, Greg's voice quivered as he said, "The receptionist at the clinic called me and told me that Mr. Bueller had requested no visitors until further notice. Alan I thought he was making progress. This doesn't sound like progress to me."

Just then someone tried to beep in on their call and when Alan looked at his caller Id, he saw it was Bobby. He asked Greg if he would hold on just a moment and switched over hoping Bobby had thought of something else but this call was a repetition of what he had just gone through with Greg. Bobby had gotten the same call telling him no visitors until further notice. Just then, there was another beep in. This time, it was a Texas prefix and Alan just knew it was Nick's folks. He told Bobby he had a call from Texas and was willing to bet they had a call also and for Bobby to get some sleep and he'd get back to him as soon as possible. He told Greg the same thing except Greg refused to hang up and told him to conference him in with the Stokes.

Alan knew how much Nick's folks thought of the young man so he told him he would put him on hold, ask them if they minded and if they said it was OK, he would; otherwise, he was hanging up on Greg. There was a very reluctant OK. Of course when he answered the line, it was both Judge and Mrs. Stokes and they were pissed big time. He managed to get a word in edgewise and told them he had Greg on the other line, that he'd gotten the same call they had and he wanted to be conferenced in. Within seconds, four worried people were all talking at the same time and trying to figure out where everything went so wrong.

The four-way conference call was in full swing but eventually, everyone had to take a breath. Jillian broke the silence with a soft sigh then she began to organize the troops.

"All right, this is what we are going to do. Alan, you are still Nick's doctor and he may have cancelled his appointment with you today, but you not only have the right, you have a duty to check on him. Is that not correct?"

"Yes, Jillian it is."

"So, you see Nick, not in your office as a therapy session, but in his room on his own turf so he feels less threatened. You try to make some sort of decision as to what has caused this.....I don't know what to call it."

"Relapse" offered Greg.

"Yes thank you dear, relapse. Bill and I will be in Las Vegas by day after tomorrow at the latest."

"Jillian, I really don't think trying to force Nick to see you and his dad is a good idea right now. It could throw him even further back than he is." Alan knew how worried the Stokes were but his first duty was to the health and well-being of his patient; both physical and mental. That was always a slippery slope especially when you figured Nick's folks were laying out a chunk of money to get their son well. But even though they were signing the checks, Alan's allegiance and loyalty had to belong to Nick or he might as well quit what he was doing and flip hamburgers at Mickey D's.

"We won't Alan but I think we need another strategy meeting like the one we had before the intervention and I think we need Greg and Bobby and Steve present if that is possible."

Greg swallowed hard. He never ceased to be amazed at the sensitivity of Jillian Stokes. She and her husband ought to hate him because of his relationship with their youngest son. But even though Judge Stokes made no bones about his feelings about homosexuality, he still completely accepted and seemed to be fond of him. It just blew Greg's mind every time he thought about having the nerve to stand up to the Judge and tell him he owed him respect.

"Alright, that sounds like a good plan. I have a really full day today and I can't get out to the clinic and back in time for my first appointment but when I get through, I will head out there. That may be the best idea actually. I will try to get there around dinner and Nick and I can talk over a meal. That may help put him at ease."

And that's where it was left. No one was really happy with the solution, but under the circumstances, it was the best they could come up with. Greg tried to get some sleep and finally gave up and took half an Ambien. Alan called Bobby and Steve and caught them up on what was going on, asked them if they would mind a strategy meeting and was told emphatically they would be there any time he needed them. Bobby added he needed as much advance notice as possible and so did Greg because they were up to their necks in the fall out from a raging gang war currently going down in the seamier neighborhoods of Las Vegas.

Three teen gangs; Squad Up, Piru Blood and HTO (Hustlers Takin' Over) had been a problem for several years and the months between May and August when school was out were the worst. Two years ago during that period, there had been two shootings at the Emerald Breeze Apartments, last year 11 and now the three gangs were locked in a bitter fight for control. Between the burned out buildings and mangled car bodies, the whole area around the corners of West Martin Luther King Boulevard and North Lake Mead Boulevard looked like a war zone. What made things even more deadly was the sudden introduction of sophisticated weapons. The old fashioned zip guns were a thing of the past. Now these kids were armed with Uzi's, AK47's, sawed-off shotguns, 45's and .357 Magnums. Brass was heard to say after the last round-up, he wouldn't be a bit surprised to find a bazooka or rocket launcher. Bobby almost lost his lunch over that remark.

Alan assured them he would give them as much notice as possible and if he had to, he'd hold the Stokes off for a day until the three of them could be there. He also told them, under the circumstances, the meeting could be held at his home and they wouldn't have to drive all the way out to the clinic at Henderson. That was the best Alan could do right then so he headed for his office and the Halverson's.

The session with the Halverson's went so much better than Alan had anticipated that he felt the cloud of gloom lift just a little. The last time, Alan had ended their session by telling Anne Halverson that she needed to think long and hard about what she wanted out of life and her marriage. Tom, her husband, had made it very plain that he could not stand her father's interference in their marriage any longer. Anne insisted that her father just wanted them to be comfortable and not do without some simple luxuries. He felt it was foolish for her to be without a pool if Tom couldn't afford it when he had more money that he knew what to do with and it was all going to be Anne's when he died anyway.

Tom said her father used money to control them and their lifestyle and no one in their circle of friends had a pool; that's why they had bought a really expensive membership at a local country club. That was their entertainment. The club had a pool, tennis courts, dances, parties, casino nights and almost all their really close friends were members.

Tom had told Alan during one of their solo sessions that he knew damn well her father didn't approve of their friends because they didn't drive the 'right' kind of car and they drank wine that came in plastic boxes instead of the $150 a bottle stuff he preferred. "Tastes like vinegar as far as I'm concerned" Tom grumbled to Alan.

Alan had told Anne that if she wanted the luxuries her father provided she had to face the fact that she might lose her husband and her marriage. Did she want to be Daddy's Little Girl and stay a pampered, protected child all her life or did she want to be Mrs. Anne Halverson? There wouldn't be a pool, at least not for a while, but there would be good friends that both she and her husband enjoyed and the satisfaction of working with a man she loved, to build something good for both of them.

He also told Tom that no matter which path Anne took, he had to respect her decision and make his own decision whether he could continue with the marriage. If he decided he wanted Anne no matter what, then he better be damn sure that he lived by that decision and didn't start blaming her for every thing that went wrong from that point on.

Alan admitted to himself that he had probably telegraphed which way he wanted to see them go but my God, all you had to do was look at the two of them and you could see the love between them. They needed each other.

When Anne told him she had informed her father that she loved him and wanted him in her life forever, Alan felt his heart sink down somewhere in his shoes. Anne took a breath and then added, "I thought he was going to stroke when I told him I was looking forward to seeing him holding his first grandchild BUT it would not be beside a pool at our house, at least not until Tom and I could afford one on our own." Alan silently began doing a happy dance in his head. They discussed possible problems that could arise in the future, Alan made an appointment with a financial planner he trusted who would help them (Anne) live on a budget and start saving for that pool if that was what they wanted and when they left, smiling in each other's eye's and holding hands, Alan broke down and did a very happy 'Walk Like an Egyptian" dance around his desk.

Marie had scheduled 45 minutes between his two appointments and had a light lunch ready for him as soon as his first couple left. Alan settled down with his meal and called Phillip to see how Nick was doing.

Phillip was not quite as good as Charles at reading the patients; but then he was much younger and had only been at the clinic for 3 years. But the tone of Phillips voice told Alan that things were still not good. Phillips report confirmed his worries. Nick continued to run a fever, he was still lethargic and according to the notes Charles and Nick's day nurse had left, his exhaustion was getting worse. His heart arrhythmia was persistent as was his nausea. He wasn't eating and while he was no longer crying, he seemed to be moving further and further away from his care-givers.

Alan didn't know Nick was going back into the 'dark place' because he didn't know about the 'dark place' but he did know he had to do something and fast. He made a decision, buzzed Marie and told her to cancel his house call appointment. She asked him if he wanted her to cancel Barnes-Wilson. He said no; they were at the same place in their counseling as the Halverson's had been and he didn't want to put it off BUT after their hour and a half, he was heading for Henderson and he did not want to be disturbed unless one of his patients was on a murderous rampage.

********************************

Alan was using the long drive to Henderson to plan strategy. His session with Walt Barnes and his partner, Gerald Wilson had gone very well. Not quite as definitive as the Halverson's but still, they were really making progress. Walt Barnes was a quiet, almost scholarly man who taught physics at WLVU. Gerald Wilson was a flamboyant, life-of-the-party choreographer for some of the best casino's in Vegas. They had been together for 8 years now and like their counterparts, the Halverson's, they were just completely in love with other but their conflicting personalities caused almost constant friction. They had come to Alan because they were afraid the eternal battles were going to erode the genuine love they had between them. Alan had been working with them for almost six months now. Walt's family, the source of the in-law problems, had no problem with him being gay but being in a long-term gay affair with someone like Gerry was, according to them, such poor taste.

Alan smiled to himself as he drove. The two men had reminded him that you should never judge a book by its cover. When they told him they were having problems with their sex lives, he of course assumed that extroverted Gerry was not satisfied. Boy was he wrong. Walt, the quiet one, wanted a lot more variety in their bedroom. He wanted to explore the use of sex toys and role-playing and even a very mild bondage would be interesting. Gerry, he thought their sex life was great and again completely surprised Alan because he was usually the 'bottom'. He preferred being the bottom although occasionally he would become territorial and top his quiet partner. Money, now that was just what Alan expected. Gerry couldn't hold onto a penny if his life depended on it and Walt was very much into budgets and estate planning and spending weeks researching before they spent anything over $250.00.

Alan remembered their fifth session. By then they had gotten comfortable with each other and the two men had been able to identify in-laws, money and sex as the three top problems they had. After listening to them for five solid hours now, Alan had just shaken his head in confusion and asked, "How the hell did you two ever get together in the first place."

Both men smiled and told him Walt had been doing some work at the Bellagio when they first started setting up their famous dancing fountains and Gerald was working on the opening number in their main salon. Walt had wandered inside to get some water and Gerald had wandered outside to get some air. They met in the outer lobby, talked a little, flirted a little and the next thing they knew, they were trying out one of the rooms and each other.

It was pretty much par for the course for Gerry but Walt had always been ultra careful because of his profession. "So what happened then?" asked Alan.

Gerry started the story. "Well, I never made it back to the rehearsal that afternoon but managed to show up about 6.00pm. I was sore and happy but I figured it was just one of those adventures that happen in Vegas and went back to work; until the next day when I found myself wandering out to the fountains and realized I was looking for Walt. When, I saw him I had an instant hard-on."

Walt took up the story then. "I had my back turned and didn't even know he was there until I felt him grab my arm and turn me around. He excused himself to the stone-mason I was talking to and said he had been asked to come find me. The hotel manager wanted to discuss some changes to the plans. I didn't think anything of it until he dragged me into an elevator, backed me up against the wall and began to kiss me until I was weak. By the time we got to the same room we had used the day before, I didn't care about the fountains, my summer job, my 'professional character' or anything else. All I could think of was how sweet his mouth was, how hot his body was under my hands and how much I wanted him."

Gerry laughed and said, "You have no idea how surprised we were when we found ourselves exchanging telephone numbers and names and by the end of the week, we were out looking for an apartment. We've been together ever since."

Alan shook himself a little and realized he'd been reminiscing because he was putting off the thorny problem of Nick Stokes and his 'relapse'. How was he going to handle this? He couldn't be too forceful; according to Phillip, Charles and the reports from the two nurses, Nick was too wounded to handle that way. On the other hand, if he was too passive, he could lose this troubling young man before he'd even had a chance to work with him. He decided he would kill two birds with one stone. Nick had eaten nothing since the dinner he'd had the night before and Alan's lunch was long gone. He would drop in to visit Nick and they would have an early dinner in his room. That would put Nick at ease and hopefully, he would eat something while they were talking. If that worked, he would just have to play the rest of the session by ear. Make no mistake, Nick may have cancelled their regular session in Alan's office but Alan was going to be treating this unique patient whether he wanted him to or not.

So far so good; the Librium prescribed after his noon time conversation had helped to relax Nick and ease his depression. He was sitting across the table from Alan, playing with a cellophane package of saltines. Now if he could just get him to stop playing with the crackers and actually eat them, they might be getting somewhere.

Nick had not fought him on the idea of sharing a meal in his room. He had insisted he wasn't hungry so Alan had told him he was, he was starving and he hated eating alone so if Nick would just keep him company and maybe order a small bowl of soup so he'd have something to play with while they talked. Alan had not said a word about Nick's regression. He didn't mention the cancelled appointment or the calls to his parents and friends. He talked about his day and told Nick about the two appointments he'd had that day. He was encouraged when Nick showed a spark of interest when he talked about Walt and Gerry. Of course he didn't use any names but he did say he was counseling a gay couple in a long term relationship. He told Nick about the two men again making sure he gave no hints as to their action occupations or names. Nick asked how they had met and as Alan told him about his fifth session when he goofed and asked them how the hell they had ever gotten together, he noticed that Nick was taking a few spoonfuls of his soup. He was interested in what Alan was saying and wasn't paying attention to what he was doing.

Alan took a long shot and told Nick his main peeve. "I always get pissed as hell when people say that gay men and women should not be allowed to marry because it's unnatural. Right now, I have two couples undergoing extensive counseling for exactly the same problems. My gay couple had been together twice as long as my hetero couple but I swear to God, if you heard a recording of my sessions; you would think it was an echo. They are both going through the same thing; parental interference, sex problems and fights about money. I know when two people live together for any length of time; the problems are the same no matter what their sex."

Nick laid his spoon down and sat back in his chair. Oddly enough, he was becoming more animated the longer they talked. That was odd because he'd been given a 25 grain dose of Librium and for someone who did not take tranquilizers, that should have kept him calm and docile. "Dr. Perkins, do you think I'm gay? And if you do, are you basing your assumptions on the fact that I was at a gay club. That doesn't seem very scientific."

Alan laid his napkin down and leaned back also, deliberately mirroring Nick's actions. "I don't think anything about you Nick. Other than you obviously need help to work through some problems you have. Are you gay? You lived with Greg Sanders for five months and I AM assuming it was not a platonic relationship."

"Oh come on, Greg doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's your patient. I'm sure he's told you every single, lurid detail of our five months together. Greg has no qualms about sharing his every thought with anyone who will listen."

Alan cataloged the anger in Nick's voice and the red flush spreading across his face. He wasn't sure what Nick was angry about. "Why do you think Greg should hide the fact that he's seeing me for treatment?"

"Because he's a CSI; because if it gets back to the top brass that he's seeing a shrink, it could affect his career for years."

"Oh Nick; I can't believe a man as intelligent as you could possibly believe that shit. You have a department shrink, Dr. Phillip Kane. You had to see him after your experience with Nigel Crane and again after your ordeal at the hands of Walter Gordon."

Nick whirled around and glared at Alan in shock. "How the hell do you know that? It's supposed to be confidential. The only thing that goes in our personnel file is a form from Kane saying we're fit for duty again."

"Calm down Nick. I know you went because I'm well aware of the regulations governing the Las Vegas Criminal Division. I work for them on special cases. If you hadn't stonewalled Kane and by the way, he knew you were lying in your teeth but he also felt you could work your way through it back in familiar surroundings, you would have wound up with me a lot sooner. I do a lot of work for the LVPD. I feel like cops and yeah, CSI's deserve the best the state can give them and frankly, I'm the best."

Nick continued to glare at Alan and at last, slowly shook his head. "Man, talk about thinking your shit don't stink."

"Hey, some of it does and some of it doesn't. That particular turd does not. Now what are you really mad about? Is it because Greg came to me for help or because he...how did you put it...oh yeah, told me every single lurid detail? Are you afraid of what he might have told me Nick? Maybe you're afraid of what I know about you. Could that be it?"

Nick was backing away from Alan which was sort of funny because Alan was still sitting in his chair and hadn't moved a muscle. He was well aware that they were building toward a climax and it could go either way. He was also aware of the fact that Nick, even under the influence of Librium, was a powerful young man who had almost twenty years on him. He carefully reached in his pocket and pushed a button on his cell phone; one that would alert security that he was in trouble and to be ready to respond.

Nick was shaking his head emphatically. "You don't know anything about me. Greg wouldn't tell you anything. You're lying because you want Greg for yourself and you want everyone to think you're this great, wonderful, impartial doctor, who can just fix everything, but you don't want to fix me, you just want to know stuff about me, about us, so you can use it to keep Greg for yourself."

Alan was trying to keep a calm expression on his face but inside he was yelling out loud, "OH MY GOD. HE THINKS I'M GAY AND I'M AFTER GREG. Shit, Perkins don't you dare laugh right now. He won't be able to handle laughter at all and it will put him right over the edge."

As calmly as he could under the circumstances, Alan said, "Nick, you just accused me of being unscientific and forming assumptions. At least I had a 5 month relationship, according to both of you, a passionate 5 month relationship for my assumptions. Where the hell do you get off assuming I'm gay when you have absolutely nothing to base that assumption on? Do you do this when you're working a case? I understood from both Greg and Bobby that your job is to collect evidence and let it lead you to a conclusion; not to formulate a conclusion and then find evidence to support it. Am I wrong?"

Nick looked a little confused. "No you're not wrong. That's what we do."

"Then why the hell aren't you doing that now?"

"Why the hell are you so intent on treating me when it's obvious you don't like me and I don't like you?"

Alan finally let a small chuckle escape and told Nick that when he decided to stop beating around the bush, he really laid it all out.

"Well, first of all, you're right....somewhat. I didn't really care for you at first but that was before I ever met you. And part of it was unprofessional of me because I formed an opinion based on what Greg was not telling me."

Nick looked at Alan and shook his head in confusion. "Did you just say, what he wasn't telling you?"

"Yep, I sure did. I have to be careful here because even though Greg is no longer my patient, there is a doctor/patient privilege between us and there are some things I can't say."

"If you were treating us as a couple, wouldn't we both know what was being said?"

"Yes theoretically but in actual practice, I always have at least two solo sessions with each partner. Then if they decide they want the other to know, they give me permission to reveal what was said in those private sessions."

"So couldn't you regard Greg's sessions as his solo and these we have here as mine? Can you ask Greg if you can tell me what he said?"

"Yes, I can. Do you want me to consider you and Greg a couple? Are you telling me you are, if not gay, at least bi-sexual?" Alan was holding his breath. He knew what ever Nick said next would either be the start or the end of everything.

Nick started pacing back and forth. He was running his hands through his hair and shaking his head again in agitation. Alan carefully eased his hand back in his pocket and got ready to punch the button to tell security to get in there fast. Suddenly, Nick turned, walked back to the table and sat down in his chair. He had his arms wrapped around his body and he was shaking; not hard but if Alan looked closely, he could see the small tremors.

"I don't know why I should be so scared. They're just words; what's that old rhyme, sticks and stones can break my bones but words can never hurt me?"

Alan smiled at him and said, "Oh Nicky my boy, that's just so wrong. That's right up there with 'Just say No' and 'Just a little snort won't get you hooked'. Words are powerful; words can bring down nations or elevate man on a level with the angels. It all depends on how they are used and why. Would it help if you wrote your thoughts down instead of saying them out loud?"

"No; I know a lot of people keep journals and that's fine, I might even do that some day but this is important. It needs to be said out loud. My mother told me that evil thrives in the dark but if you turn the bright light of truth on it, it shrivels up and blows away."

"Your mother is a brilliant woman and I might add, your folks and your friends are why I want to help you. They are exceptional people, exceptional specimens of the human race. They all seem to think the sun rises and sets in you and none of them are gullible people so there has to be something special in you even if you can't see it yourself. I want you to see it too so you can give them back just a little of the love, faith and respect they give to you."

"Did you know Nick, that Greg, who is scared shitless of your dad, actually stood up to him in my office and told him in no uncertain terms that he owed Greg respect? He said he was more than willing to give it to him and he would respect him even if he wasn't your father but he deserved respect too. He told him why and he added that he would not allow your father to disrespect him or you for your feelings for each other. That neither of you knew why you had those feelings but they were real and he wasn't about to let him make them sound dirty. That last is not exactly what he said but he told me later it was what he meant."

Nick had sat there in silence listening to Alan. He could not imagine his gentle, timid Greg talking to his Dad that way and he was amazed that his father didn't seem to resent it at all. If Greg could do that, surely he could be as brave?

"I've been with both women and men sexually. I've gotten off with both but I've never experienced anything like the feelings I had with Greg. I'm pretty sure I'm pure gay."

Having said that, Nick waited quietly for the world to end.

Alan stayed with Nick for a little while longer but Nick seemed to be completely wiped out by his emotional disclosure. Alan decided to again prescribe a sleeping agent but since Nick had eaten almost nothing all day and the last thing he had in his stomach was some soup he decided the Zantac was not needed.

Alan said goodnight, told Nick he would see him tomorrow and they would start their work together to exorcise his demons. Since Alan kept a room at the clinic for times like these he didn't have to drive back to Las Vegas and they would start fairly early. He told Nick he should sleep but if he didn't, to start that journal he had mentioned and list the results he hoped to get from their sessions, the problems he wanted to work on and anything else that bothered him.

After Alan left, Nick sat there for a while. He finally decided he needed to shower; one of the things he and Alan had discussed was the fact that one of the first signs of depression was a decrease in personal hygiene. He hadn't shaved or brushed his teeth or showered since the previous morning which was almost 40 hours ago.

He had to admit when he got out he did feel marginally better. A gentle tap at his door let him know Charles was there with his sleep-aid. He had also brought some warm milk, flavored with vanilla and sugar and some graham crackers. Nick looked at him in astonishment. "What the heck, Charles? I haven't had graham crackers since I was a kid."

"Then it's time you tried them again, Nick." Charles believed whole-heartedly in the clinic's rules that the physical well-being of its patients was an important part of their treatment.

Charles placed the tray on the same table he had served Nick and Alan's dinner. He started to leave but Nick asked him if he had time to stay with him for a few minutes. Charles smiled and said he always had time for Nick. They sat quietly talking while Nick swallowed his pill, drank his milk and ate his crackers. When Nick had yawned for the third time, Charles got up, told Nick it was time for bed and like an obedient child, Nick crawled in bed. He watched while Charles moved around the room, straightening and picking up. He finished by picking up the tray, turning Nick's lights off and wishing him a good night.

Nick slept soundly until about 4.30 when he woke up dying to go to the bathroom. He took care of his business, washed his hands and went back to bed but he couldn't go back to sleep. His mind wandered over the last couple of years. He thought about his behavior after Crane and Gordon. He cringed when he remembered his excesses.

He smiled in the dark when he thought about his first kiss, his first night with Greg. He had known he was a passionate lover but my God, he had never imagined anything like the feelings he had when Greg had thrown his arms around him and kissed him that first time. Talk about fireworks; it was a display that would bring the house down in any arena in the US and it was all going on behind his eyelids. And if you want to discuss degrees of passion, Greg set the bar higher than even Nick could imagine. He had wondered all during their five months together if there would ever come a time when he would get used to the kisses that produced an instant erection.

And Greg had a playful side that reduced him to a slobbering idiot in nothing flat. He would be working on evidence in the lab and Greg would come in to the room. He would walk over to Nick's side and sit down on a stool beside him and ask a casual question about the evidence; nothing out of the way at all. Of course, the one hand under the table that was rubbing across Nick's groin was certainly not casual. Nor the fact that Nick was hard in a flash and sometimes couldn't even respond to the 'casual' question. Sometimes Nick thought he must have spent that entire five months in a state of perpetual arousal.

As Nick thought about his time with Greg, he found himself getting hard just thinking about him. He tried to focus on something else and finally got up and looked in the desk and sure enough, there was a brand new journal. He picked it up and started back to bed but decided that probably wasn't a good idea. At least not until his erection had gone away. Bed just made him think about Greg and thinking about Greg made him hard. So he settled down in the comfortable desk chair and began to jot down thoughts. He didn't try to keep any sort of order just what ever came in his head.

He thought writing would be hard, after all he was used to a computer and a keyboard but there was something about the action of thought followed by committing that thought to paper that almost forced him to pare his ramblings down to the fewest possible words. Before he even realized, it was 7.15 am and he had pages filled with thoughts, memories, questions and ideas. He also hadn't thought about Greg or his dick for a couple of hours now. Hmmm....that was a relief. He decided he would shower and go down to have breakfast with the rest of the 'guests' of the clinic.

Nick was showered, shaved and generally clean when the knock on his door sounded. When he said come in, Alan stuck his head inside and said, "Wow, I wasn't expecting this. I came to see if you wanted to have breakfast with me?"

"I was planning on going down to the dining room for breakfast."

"Great! Do you mind some company?"

Nick said no, just let him finish dressing and he would meet him downstairs. He wasn't sure whether he really wanted to eat with Alan again or not. Just because he had made an earth-shaking admission; that didn't mean he wanted to be 'best buddies' with the doctor. He still felt that Alan had an ulterior motive for wanting to 'help' him. Nick snorted when he realized he was thinking in quote marks and decided, he would work with the good doctor BUT there were some things he would keep to himself and most of his personal life with Greg was firmly placed in that category.

He was quite surprised to find Alan sitting at one of the large family style tables with six other patients. There was a seat left for him but it was clear over on the other side of the table. Nick took the seat, turned his coffee cup over to signal the waiter for coffee and looked the menu over. He had a substantial breakfast and enjoyed the small talk with the other people at the table.

**********************

After breakfast, Alan asked Nick if he was ready to start. Nick decided the faster they started, the faster they would get it over with.

He was used to Phillip Kane who was one of those doctors who let his patient set the pace and only occasionally asked a question. Most of the time Dr. Kane wanted Nick to tell him how he felt about his memories, his dreams and his connections with his co-workers; mostly things that would affect his skill as a CSI. Alan was a whole different animal.

Alan started by telling Nick he could understand why he didn't want to see him but why didn't he want to see his parents or his friends. Nick waffled for a long time with the answer to that one, finally telling Alan that he had remembered something bad, he didn't want to talk about it to him now or possibly ever and he didn't think his friends and family should be around him. He was not the person they thought he was and he didn't want to see the disgust on their faces when they realized what he was.

Alan shook his head. He was somewhat confused. "Nick, you do realize don't you that the fact that you don't want to talk about your memory is the best reason in the world why you SHOULD talk about it."

"I don't care. I won't and if that's the only thing you want to discuss then I guess our session is over." Nick sounded so much like a whiny brat that Alan really wanted to smack him.

"No, there are at least....how old are you, thirty-six now....there are at least thirty-five more years of stuff we need to get out of the way. We can leave yesterday for the moment but you will talk about it before we are through. That's a promise. Now, back to why you won't see people."

"If I understand you correctly, you remembered something about yourself that was so bad, so horrible; it threw you into almost instant depression and made you decide that your family and friends would be better off never seeing you again. Is that about the size of it?"

Nick sat down, he had been pacing the room like a caged cat, put his head in his hands and sighed, "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

"Nick, would you admit that right not, right at this point in time, you're not running on all cylinders?"

"Yeah, I'll give you that."

"Good. Now, would you say that your friends and parents are pretty sharp people?"

"Of course they are. What's your point?"

"My point is, no one knows the horrible secret you've uncovered about yourself." Alan who was trained to watch his patient's closely, noticed a visible flinch when he said that. So someone else did know what had sent Nick spinning down into depression. "All they know is they love you, miss you and want to see you. Are you ready to tell them what a terrible person you are? Because if you're not, then they're left with believing you cut them out of your life after they risked their lives and reputations for you. Do you really think that's fair?"

"You fight dirty, don't you?" Nick was furious, mostly because he could not ignore the truth behind the doctor's words. "I don't want them to be exposed to me, can't you understand that?"

"Do you have a contagious disease? Are you suffering from some sort of radio-activity that could affect them? Without knowing what you think you have, I have to act on the facts available to me. What is it you CSI's say....Oh yeah, I have to follow the evidence and at this moment my evidence says you have 5 people that I know for a fact love you dearly and are suffering right now because you have stamped your little foot and said you don't want to play with them anymore."

"God damn you, you make me sound like a petty child. Don't you realize this is my life, these people are my life? How dare you trivialize my feelings like this?"

"How dare you trivialize your family's feelings, your friends? Do you have any idea what Bobby and Greg go through every single day they are at work? Do you have any idea how hard it is for your father, an honorable man, to call Conrad Ecklie with regular updates on the state of the 'family emergency' that has taken you away from the lab? Every single day, Bobby and Greg have to look the people they work with in the eye and either say, "Gee no we haven't heard from Nick for a while now" or "Yeah he called last night, said he tried to get hold of one of you but I was the only one who answered. Yeah nothing's changed. His family still needs him, but he sends his best." Do you really think it's easy for them to be there day after day lying through their teeth and the only reason they're doing it to give you a chance to come back to work with your honor and integrity intact? Bobby and Greg are compromising their integrity every single day to preserve yours and you can't even give them the courtesy of a visit. Christ Stokes, maybe you're not worth saving after all."

Nick had never been talked to like that in his entire life. Even when he and his father had their rough patch before he left Dallas for Las Vegas, they hadn't ripped each other up like that. He got up and stormed out of Alan's office and headed for his room. He tried to calm down, to get control of himself but he could not stop shaking with anger, with rage maybe a little sorrow at hearing the truth . Oh shit! That's just what he needed, his little voice was back.

What's the matter Stokes? The truth too much for you? You had no trouble at all telling Greg he was a piece of shit and only worth fucking. That was usually just before you tore him a new one; literally. Boy do I have a way with words or what? You can dish it out but you can't take it. Come on Nicky what's it gonna be. Are you just gonna curl up and hide here in your room or are you gonna be a big boy and try to live up to the people who are putting everything out there for you. Either push all your chips out there in the middle of the table or pick up your cards and fold.

"Oh great, now you sound like Warrick. Can't you even stick to my personality when you're arguing with me?"

"I'm completely different from you Nicky my boy. I'm my own person. I'm you or what you could be if you would just clear the shit out of your brains and find out where I came from and when. That's the key you know. You have to remember when I started talking to you."

*******************

Alan had just sat there after Nick stormed out of his office. He was so angry, at himself most of all, for losing his temper with a patient. No matter how obnoxious a patient became, he had always managed to hang on to his cool and let their bad moods roll right off him. So why didn't he this time? What was it about Nick Stokes that brought his temper right to the surface and kept it on a low simmer? Well hell, he was going back to Vegas, he was going to sleep in his own bed tonight, hopefully not alone, and he was going to just let Mr. Stokes stew in his own.......

The door to his office flew open and slammed back into the wall. Nick came storming into his office and right up to his desk. He leaned over, put his hands on Alan's desk and said, "All right you son-of-a-bitch, I'm going to call everyone including Warrick and Catherine and Archie. I'm going to call my dad first and make sure I keep our stories straight and I will keep on perpetuating the lie. I will talk to you but you stop pushing me. There are some things I just can't talk about right now. Maybe I never will be able to talk about them but I'm going to try. Not for you, because I still think you have an agenda of your own, but for my mom and dad and Bobby and Steve and Greg and me. No matter what you think, I am worth fighting for and I'm going to try. Now, what else do you want me to say?"

Alan swallowed, poured himself a glass of water and sipped it slowly. He looked at Nick for a while. Nick did not move, did not flinch; he just looked right back at him. To a casual observer, it sort of looked like two tomcats sizing each other up just before the fur started flying.

"I would like you to shut the door, take a seat and lets start with why you left Dallas. Can you talk about that or is that too much for your delicate psyche?"

Nick glared at him for a few more seconds, straightened up, walked over and gently closed the door. He walked back to the small serving station Alan had in his office, opened the little mini-fridge and took out a bottle of water. He didn't bother with a glass; just twisted the cap off, took a deep swig that took the water level down half way, walked back and sat down in his chair and started talking.

***********************************

Two hours later, Nick was back in his room stripping off his clothes and climbing in a lukewarm shower. He felt like he had been run over by a truck. They had worked their way through the whole thing from the moment he saw the ad on Monster.com until he had reported for work that first night. Alan had called a halt then, telling Nick they had made a great start. He had other patients he had to see but he would be back tomorrow afternoon. They would have dinner and after dinner they would go back over the entire session and see if they could find significant markers for things that had happened prior to the move and then after.

Nick was going to go down and work out for a while but he was so beat he decided he would take a little nap and then call his dad. He needed to start mending bridges.

Nick's inner alarm clock was so screwed up from the changes to his normal schedule he had to set a real alarm clock to make sure he didn't sleep too long. He wanted an hour nap and no more. He was amazed when the alarm went off, he felt like he had just lain down but the digital read out said he'd been sleeping for one solid hour.

It was too late for lunch and too early for dinner but Nick knew he had to have something in his belly before he hit the gym or he would make himself sick. He called Phillip and told him his problem. About the time Nick had washed the sleep out of his eyes, changed into his workout gear and thrown his running shoes in his bag, Phillip showed up at his door with a bowl of chicken noodle soup, some saltines and a couple of bottles of Gatorade. Nick told him he was the best and Phillip smiled his 'I'm happy you're happy' smile and asked him if he would be eating in his room or downstairs. Nick told him he would be eating downstairs and asked Phillip if there was going to be a poker game tonight. When told yes, he asked Phillip if he would put his name on the list for a seat, wolfed down his soup and crackers, grabbed his Gatorade and headed downstairs.

***************************

When he got back after his extensive workout, he showered again, changed into more clean clothes, thanked god that laundry service came with the daily charge and prepared himself to speak with his parents.

Talking to his folks, especially his dad, was not going to be easy after this morning's session. He'd thought he'd told the story pretty well. He hadn't held anything back, even telling Alan about puking after every major step he took. Then Alan took him back through his actions and made him tell it again and again and each telling brought out more details and more events he'd forgotten the first time; a little poke here, a small nudge there, a quiet 'and then what happened' brought things out that had been hiding in dark corners for eight long years.

The oddest thing of all was Alan's reaction. Now as I mentioned before, up to this time, Nick's only exposure to therapy had been with Dr. Kane, the department shrink. He kept a bland expression on his face all the time. Nick figured it was something he'd learned in school. "You must never show disgust or disbelief but always make your patient feel that you have heard all of this before. That way, the patient will not feel he's completely alone in his actions. You must do this no matter how outlandish or unbelievable the story may be."

Nick was pretty sure Dr. Kane had bitten his tongue more than once while listening to his tale about being buried alive, with a light that kept coming on and staying on and while it was on, there was no air being pumped into his plexi-glass coffin. Then as if that wasn't enough, the cracks in his box caused when he had shot out the light began to let in fire ants which proceeded to eat him alive. Yeah, he bet he didn't get too many of those bed time stories.

Alan however, constantly expressed emotion while Nick was telling his story. He had chuckled out loud when Nick had told him about an invite to the folks place meant he was going to be treated to another possible 'Stokes breeding machine' exhibit. Nick had completely forgotten about that so it came out somewhere around the fourth or fifth telling.

Alan had told him to think about how he felt about his parents, especially his father since his mother seemed to have been more supporting. He needed to think about whether he was still holding a grudge against them and if so, could that possibly have contributed to his own dangerous activities?

Nick had thought about his folks. He thought about them while he was working out, during his two mile run after and his shower. The only conclusion he came to was a difficulty in reconciling the almost autocratic behavior his father had shown after Nick graduated from college and joined the PD in Dallas and the behavior he was exhibiting now; not only to Nick but also to Greg and Bobby and his partner. It was like two sides of the same coin. What had happened? Why was his father warm and supportive now and would Nick have been different if he'd gotten that support when he was young and oh so confused about everything?

He glanced over at the clock. It was time to make the call. His folks, at least his dad for certain, would be home by now. He hit the speed button for the Stokes home in Texas and prayed no one would answer and he could leave a message on the ans.....

"Stokes residence."

"Hi Dad, it's me, Nick."

"Oh my God. Nicky. Oh son it's so good to hear your voice. Are you feeling better now? Is everything OK? What happened? Can we come see you?"

Nick started to laugh and said, "Whoa there partner; let a guy get a word in edgewise OK? I'm feeling a lot better. Everything is fine. I'm not sure what happened but Alan and I are working on it together and I would really appreciate it if you and Mom would sort of hold off on coming up for a while."

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. "You don't want to see us. Is that what you're saying?"

"No daddy, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that for the first time in my life I'm trying hard to figure myself out. It's not easy. I was so exhausted after our session today I came back to my room and slept. This is taking more out of me than digging ditches or putting in fence line used to do when I was young and you handed me over to Jiminez to teach me to work like a man. It's like any kind of new, hard work. It takes a while to get used to it and right now it's just wiping me out. Add to that Alan's schedule and nothing here is set in concrete."

"What do you mean Alan's schedule?"

"Well, you know Alan has patients in Las Vegas he has to see and he has two different couples that are both coming to crucial places in their treatment. He has 4 other patients besides me here at the clinic and he's on call for the Las Vegas Law Enforcement Division if they have any emergency conditions and right now, we have a major gang war going on. Every one at the lab including the lab rats are working doubles and triples."

"Why would Alan be called out for that?"

"Dad, some of these gang kids are eleven and twelve. I don't care how long you've been a cop, when you shoot someone who's pointing a gun at you and then you go over and roll him over and see a kid with baby fat staring up at you, it does a number on you."

"Plus, if Alan does the same thing with the rest of his patients that he does with me, he doesn't stick to the usual 'Sorry your hour is up. Let's pick this up later.' When he gets me going, he digs and probes and gouges at me until he's got everything he can get. This morning we were at it for more than 2 hours. Tomorrow, he's going to be here for dinner and we will pick up after dinner."

There was another silence and then Judge Stokes cleared his throat and said, "You know son we want to see you in the worst way. But, I understand what you're saying. Just the idea that you are willing to work with Dr. Perkins is a big step forward, so we will be patient and give you some space. Do you have to go now? Your mom should be here in a few minutes and I know it will ease her mind to hear your voice."

"Daddy, I don't have to go anywhere expect dinner and that's not for another hour. I can't think of anything I want to do more right now than talk with you and momma. Besides, I need to know what you told Ecklie. One of my 'homework' assignments is to call the folks at the lab and let them know I'm alive and kicking. I need to make sure I stick with the story you all concocted so I don't blow your cover."

Judge Stokes let out a snort of laughter and said, "Ok boy, I hope you're sitting down for this one. I'll catch you up."

They talked for another fifteen minutes and then Jillian Stokes came home and Nick had a lot of 'splaining to do to mom. Everyone was laughing when they hung up and Nick felt better than he had in days; so did Judge and Mrs. Stokes.

*******************************

Nick was pleasantly tired. He'd had a good day; well at least it was good after he left Alan's office for the second time. He'd had a good workout and a wonderful dinner. Nick thought again that they had a killer chef working for the clinic. He must make a mint there because he could have been a star at any of the big hotels on the strip. And he'd had the great pleasure of cleaning out his table mates at the poker game that night. Of course, it was just fake money. The clinic would not allow them to gamble for real. Nick snorted to himself at the thought that the clinic was probably the only place in Nevada where gambling for real was banned.

He'd timed it just right so he could catch Warrick before he left for the lab. He punched in his friends speed dial number and prayed that he could get through the call without giving anything away. He was a little afraid of the reception he would get; it had been months after all.

"Brown."

"Warrick, it's Nick. Do you have a minute?"

"My God Nicky. Where the HELL have you been and don't say with my family. I know that but I've been crazy with worry about you. Are you OK? When are you coming back?"

"Slow down big guy; just one question at a time OK. I'm actually in Houston. That's where my Sis and her kids live and Christopher is in the hospital here. I'm just fine; a little tired of course and we're all sick with worry and indecision and I have no idea when I'm coming back. I can't leave S'annah right now. I don't know if I told you but her bastard of a husband left her and the kids last year for a piece of trailer-trash. S'annah took it pretty hard and this coming down now has hurt her bad."

"Listen 'Rick, don't take this the wrong way but I want to forget about what's going on here and just hear about you and the lab and everyone in it. Can you take me away from this place for a while?"

There was the sound of silence for a second and then 'Rick let out a deep sigh and said, "Oh yeah buddy, I can do that for you. I've really missed talking with my friend over a couple of cold ones."

Nick knew his voice was a little strained when he answered him back, "I know the feeling bro, I know the feeling." He thought he did pretty good considering he was swallowing a lump as big as brick at just hearing the loneliness in his friends voice.

They talked until Warrick suddenly said, "Oh shit, we've been on this phone for almost an hour and I'm going to have to move it to get to work on time."

"Jeez 'Rick. Why didn't you tell me to shut up and hang up? I didn't mean to make you late."

"Hey, this was worth it just to hear from you. Am I gonna have to wait another 3 months now?"

"No, I'll be calling you and Cath and Greg and Bobby and probably Archie as often as I can. Things are a little better here. We're just sort of in a holding pattern waiting to see which way Christopher's condition goes."

Warrick sounded a lot better when they hung up than he had at the start of their conversation and Nick began to think maybe Alan was telling him the truth when he said he had a lot of friends who cared about him.

He had managed to stay to the contrived story about his nephew being injured in a motorcycle accident. He'd been wearing a helmet but either it got knocked off because of the force or the strap failed and he'd received severe head injuries. He was in a coma and Nick's youngest sister Savannah, or S'annah as Nick called her was a basket case and only responsive to Nick.

It wasn't too bad and as long as he didn't have to come up with too many details he could stick with the story.

He was worn out, it was midnight and he needed to get to bed. He settled down and was asleep in minutes.

*********************

Nick felt Greg's hands rubbing across his chest; he could feel the gentle little flicks at his nipples. Funny, before Greg, he'd never really noticed his nipples as being overly sensitive but Greg could play with them and within minutes, they were standing up from his chest and almost begging for attention. He felt the hands moving lower down his body, rubbing over his skin and down to his naval. Greg played with parts of Nick's body that he would never have considered an erogenous zone until the playful, sensual, younger man brought them to his attention. He found that where Greg was concerned, every square inch of him was ready to join in the fun when his partner wanted to play.

Tonight, Greg was evidently in a serious mood because one hand grasped his erection and the other one started playing with his balls. He gave himself up to the sensations of stroking and rubbing, letting him roll his balls back and forth inside the loose sack as it began to tighten and bring it's contents closer up to Nick's body. He could feel the cum oozing out of the small slit in the head of his cock and he felt Greg flick a thumb across the slit gathering the slick moisture and smearing it around the swollen head. He caught his breath as the hand on his dick began to move faster; sometimes the fingers on the underside would almost milk the large vein that ran the length of his erection. Other times, they would just ghost over the tip and then down around the extremely sensitive head ridge. He was beginning to pant now in earnest as Greg worked on him bringing him faster and faster to the point where all he could do was wait for the blade to fall; for him to let the hot sperm erupt in jets that spurted across his stomach and chest; wait for Greg to grant him the 'petite mort'; the 'little death' of release.

***************************

Nick woke gasping for breath and drenched in sweat. He had a death grip on his dick which was still dribbling a little from the hard orgasm he'd had. He threw the sheets back and lay there letting the cool air dry him off and waiting for his breath to return to something approaching normal.

"Thank God I wasn't hooked up to any monitoring device. I would've blown every circuit on the board out with that one. Where the hell did that come from? We weren't even talking about Greg and I sure wasn't thinking about him during the poker game. Ok is this me talking or the stupid, damn voice?

Nick waited for a minute and when nothing answered him in his own head, he continued his imaginary conversation. "God that 'la petite morte'; I haven't thought about that for months. That happened right after we got together"

The second or third day Greg had come back home with Nick, they had been so hungry for each other it was a physical pain. Events at the lab had kept them apart for a while so it was either their second, no Nick remembered clearly now, it was the third day/night whatever they had spent together. Nick was on one case that ran into doubles, Greg was on another plus Ecklie, the bastard, had pulled him back into the lab to run evidence on a nasty day shift case that involved several prominent Las Vegas politicians. It was actually almost 7 days since the night of the party. Way too long in Nick's mind to do without the man who filled his thoughts the way he sometimes filled his body; completely. Nick had gotten to the house first. He knew Greg was right behind him so he was pulling his clothes off as he dashed through the house to the kitchen. He pushed the button that raised the door just as he saw Greg's little Jetta come around the corner and head for his driveway. He remembered thinking, "Jesus, I hope a neighborhood dog or cat doesn't run into the street because he'll never be able to stop in time."

Greg pulled into the garage and was pulling his shirt over his head as Nick pushed the button to close the door. He almost ran through the door and jumped on Nick, wrapping his long legs around his waist and kissing him frantically. Nick remembered carrying him to the bedroom that way; Greg wrapped around his body and clinging to him with his arms and legs; refusing to take his mouth away until Nick got them into the bedroom and dropped him on the bed. He peeled Greg's legs away from his waist, undid his belt and jerked his jeans and briefs down with one motion. Then he realized he hadn't taken his shoes off and the jeans were caught on his shoes. He almost ripped the offending shoes and socks off, got the pants off and dropped down beside the bed on his knees. He pulled Greg over to the edge of the bed, draped his legs over his shoulders and swallowed him down.

Greg was not completely erect yet and Nick thought it was the hottest thing he'd ever felt (up till then of course) to feel the semi-soft cock grow and stiffen in his mouth. He let the length slowly move down his throat and swallowed around it until he was light-headed from lack of air. He pulled off, gulped a big breath and went right back down. He was vaguely aware of Greg moaning somewhere above his head but since all he could pick up was an almost continuous chant consisting of his name and the word 'more', he was pretty sure he could just keep on doing what he wanted to and it would make both of them happy. When Greg came; Nick had swallowed him so deeply, he couldn't even taste the cum. He'd had to pull back a little to suck the last few drops from the completely limp and relaxed penis in order to get a taste of the essence of Greg. Since he had come himself when he felt Greg let loose, he was a lot more relaxed than he had been a few minutes ago. He lifted Greg back on the bed, threw the t-shirt he'd grabbed to catch his ejaculate, in the general direction of the bathroom and climbed onto the bed next to his very quiet partner. That's when he realized that Greg was not actually conscious.

He'd been terrified at first but Greg had started to come around in just a few moments. When he'd finally gotten his eyes open and focused on Nick, he murmured against Nick's lips, "Le Petite Mort; I've read about it but never felt it until now. It really is like a little death."

******************

After his second heart stopping orgasm,Nick realized he'd better stop taking these little trips down memory lane or he'd be calling the housekeeping staff to come change his bed in the middle of the night. He quickly got up, checked the bed and was amazed to discover most of the mess was on his stomach, his t-shirt and his sleep pants. There were just a few little spots which he quickly sponged up with a wet washcloth.

He stripped off his soiled nightclothes and jumped in the shower. He was back out in a few minutes and after a quick dry-off and some fresh sleep pants, he decided to see if he could make it thru to morning with no more 'nocturnal emissions'.

The rest of the night was quiet and uneventful.

*********************************

It was the evening of the next day and Nick was thanking the gods above that he'd had a quiet peaceful day after a good night's sleep because Alan was killing him.

They had started with Nick telling him about the calls to his mom and dad and then the one to Warrick. Alan had made him dissect and analyze his feelings almost word for word. Nick was already worn out when he and his doctor both decided he really wasn't holding a grudge against his father for the way he had treated him prior to leaving Dallas for Sin City.

Then they started on his decision to leave the Dallas PD and become a CSI in Las Vegas. By the time they got through that one, Nick had decided on his own (with a lot of nudging and pushing from Alan) that he had somehow realized that staying in Dallas would kill him; if not literally then it would have certainly killed his spirit. He finally admitted out loud that he would have given in to his parents demands, married one of the prize heifers trotted out for his inspection, produced some more little Stokes and died a quiet death of loneliness and desperation.

By then, it was almost 8.30 and they had been going at it since 5.30. Nick was exhausted and Alan was just getting started. He wanted to talk about Nick and 'gay bars'. Nick just put his head in his hands (he was doing that a lot lately) and said, "Oh Shit! Do we have to?"

By then, it was almost 8.30 and they had been going at it since 5.30. Nick was exhausted and Alan was just getting started. He wanted to talk about Nick and 'gay bars'. Nick just put his head in his hands (he was doing that a lot lately) and said, "Oh Shit! Do we have to?"

* * *

"No, we don't have to. We can wait until tomorrow but I'm here, you're here and I hate to waste the momentum we've got going. Are you really that tired? Or do you just want to avoid the issue?"

Nick sighed and said, "Honestly, both. But you're right, we do seem to be on a roll so let's continue. What do you want to know about me and gay bars?"

"When was the very first time you went to a gay bar and why."

"The very first time was here in Las Vegas three weeks after I started with the crime lab." Nick went thru the events leading up to his first visit to 'alterna'. He began to slow down and his words were hesitant. He stammered a little as he told about Roger Wallace, the owner of 'alterna' telling him he was welcome in his club anytime and his voice dropped so low when he got to the part where he asked Wallace 'what if he wanted to do more than dance and have a cold beer', Alan had to ask him to speak a little louder.

Nick stopped and looked at Alan. "Why do you want to know all the details? Do you get off on listening to your patients talk about their sexual kinks?"

Much to Nick's surprise, Alan laughed out loud. "Good God, Nick. I've got more than enough kinks of my own. I don't WANT to hear the details; I HAVE to hear the details. After going through your tale about moving to Las Vegas, you should know that you, not you personally but you the patient, don't always tell the whole truth. Now sometimes it's on purpose and sometimes it's because you don't remember the whole truth and sometimes it's because the truth is not what you think it is. You, again I'm talking about you the patient in general, may not realize that the truth you're telling is not the truth that was in existence at the time the incident occurred. But, if you think of me as an independent observer, you can see where I have insights you don't. So start talking."

"I'm trying. I'm really trying but this is just so hard. I don't even want to think about this stuff much less say it out loud and then have to go through it word by word looking for hidden meanings."

"Nick, remember Jillian's 'bright light of truth shining on evil and making it disappear'? That's why we have to go through this. See, I honestly don't think going to a gay bar is a crime punishable by death or even removal from human society. We need to find out why you do. And don't tell me it's because of what your dad wants for you. You were able to ignore the Judge's wishes when you came here so why can't you ignore his views on sexuality also. That's what we need to get down to and we have to go into your reasons for going to the bar in the first place. I'm pretty sure we both can agree it wasn't just to tell Mr. Wallace he and his bar were cleared of any involvement in a murder."

"Okay, I see your point but I...."

"I'll tell you what; why don't you close your eyes and keep them closed. Go back and see what's happening on the inside of your eyelids like you were watching a movie. Tell me in the first person, what's happening."

Nick took a deep breath, leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He saw himself walking out of Roger Wallace' office and into the club. He started to talk.

"I'm nervous as hell and I don't know why I'm here. I know it's not to tell Wallace he's clear. I know it's a curiosity I've had for so long I don't even know when it started. I order a cold beer in the bottle. I've seen crimes that happened because someone's drink had been spiked and I'm not gonna let it happen to me. I watch the bartender open the bottle and reach for a glass and tell him no, I want to drink it out of the bottle. I remember one case where the GHB had been in the glass waiting for whatever drink the girl had ordered. I drink my beer and the longer I sit there the more the drums and the bass get to me. I finish my beer and move out to the dance floor."

Nick didn't realize it but his voice had taken on a dreamy quality. He completed his story, not leaving anything out because he wasn't telling what had happened to him. He was telling the story of the movie to Alan; the movie he was watching in his own head. He told about wiping his hand off on his t-shirt and starting to throw the shirt away and then remembering, it could be picked up so he took it with him. He finished by saying, "I was real careful driving home. I didn't want to be picked up smelling to high heaven of cum. I know I had it on my pants both front and back. But you know what? I slept that night like I hadn't slept in years. No dreams, no nightmares, no nothing and I felt like a new man when I woke up."

There was complete silence in the office after he finished. He finally opened his eyes and looked at Alan who was staring at Nick with his lips parted. Finally, Alan sort of cleared his throat and said, "Damn, that was hot. And I suspect, completely, utterly true. I'm really surprised and I got to admit, I'm proud of you. When did you go back to 'alterna'?"

Nick was still blushing just a little at Alan's admission that he found his memory hot. "It was months."

"Why, when you obviously enjoyed yourself so much? You had to realize you'd found something that was missing from your life; something you needed to feel whole and complete."

"Yeah, but Alan if I'd gone back, people would begin to know me, to recognize me. Then they'd see me at a crime scene and realize who I was and that would not be good."

"So what did you do?"

Nick smiled, leaned forward and started telling him about his 'research'. As he told how he'd looked up every gay bar in town, checked it out in their records for criminal activity, made lists rating the bars on their 'safety factor', Alan noticed his demeanor began to change. The stammer was gone, so was the embarrassment.

Alan realized suddenly the longer Nick talked about his maps and schedules and lists, he was beginning to become the Nick that had hurt Greg so deeply. Alan had not been able to reconcile the patient he'd been seeing with the person Greg talked about but now, he could see THIS Nick not allowing Greg to enter his home through the front door. He could see every negative, cold facet of THIS Nick coming to the surface. When Nick ended his story with a comment about how easy it was to fool his co-workers, the last piece fell into place. The contempt was obvious in Nick's voice when he said, "Hell they're supposed to be these hot-shot crime detectors and they couldn't see past my smile and my 'aw shucks' manner. Even the great Grissom patted me on the back and told me he liked my initiative. What a lyin, hypocritical piece of shit that guy turned out to be."

This cold, controlled Nick continued, telling Alan how he planned his visits to the clubs, how he prepared, buying the clothes just for the one visit and discarding them at the end of the evening. He even told him about the phony Las Vegas driver's license.

"How long did you follow your plan and did you always stick to the same scenario; just a hand job?"

"For the first year I went out 2 sometimes 3 times a week and yeah, it was always just hand action. But that meant I was hitting 8 to 12 clubs every month and I was getting some recognition I didn't want. I decided to cut back and only go once a week no matter what. The problem was a hand job once a week didn't take care of my needs. So I decided it was time to up the ante. I started carrying lube and condoms. I'd pick out someone I liked and take them to a back room. I always topped. I wasn't about to let anyone near my butt. The funny thing was when I changed from hand jobs to fucking, I changed my type."

"What do you mean Nick, what was your type before and after."

"That first night, the guy that I wound up with was big, way bigger than me and I loved it. The feeling of being able to let go and lean back on someone and have him support me. It was like I could completely relax but since he was behind me; I didn't have to worry about what he looked like or what he thought about my looks. I knew he was interested in my dick and my ass and that's exactly where I wanted his attention. I felt like I was the hottest thing on wheels. I didn't even have to kiss him and he wanted me, wanted me so bad, he was willing to take anything I was willing to give and all I was going to give him was my ass rubbing across his dick thru 2 layers of clothes. But when he opened my jeans and pulled my cock out and started jacking me off in public right there on the dance floor, it was like a blaze of heat starting at my feet and working it's way up my body. I know everybody in the place could see and I didn't care. I wanted them to see. When he took my hand and pulled it behind me and put it on his cock, I knew; I knew this was what I'd been missing from my first hard-on until right that moment."

Nick's voice had taken on the dreamy quality again but his eyes were open and he was staring right at Alan, almost as though he wanted to arouse him again or keep him aroused.

Alan refused to play Nick's game although if the truth were known, he was aroused and he was giving thanks to every god he knew that his hard-on was under the desk. God, if he's like this when he's having sex, no wonder Greg was in the state he was in when they broke up. This guy could make a straight man fall for him. Hell, I AM straight and I'd like to watch him in action.

"So, you're saying that as long as it was 2 or 3 times a week, you stuck to hand jobs with men who were bigger than you in size but almost anonymous because you usually kept your back turned to them. Is that correct?"

Nick leaned back in his chair and nodded 'yes'.

"Okay; what caused you to switch to full sexual contact?"

"Well, like I said; when I cut back to just once a week, a hand job wasn't enough. I wasn't sure what to do. I really didn't like the idea of fucking a stranger but I just couldn't think of anything else to do. It wasn't like I could get jacked off, go change clothes, come back in and do it again. I also knew I couldn't keep to the same type. I wasn't about to let any guy top me and I was pretty sure I wasn't strong enough to top the guys I normally picked; not even in my physical condition."

"I was at a new club one night, trying to work off some steam on the dance floor. The crowd was a little younger than I was used to but the club was clean, the beer was ice cold and the band was red hot so I was having fun. I was dancing in the middle of a group of guys, must have been 9 or 10 of them and this one youngster kept getting in my face. He wasn't obnoxious, just having a real good time but he wanted to dance right up against me and I mean against my front."

Alan interrupted softly, "What did he look like?"

"Well, he had to be in his early twenties at least. He had brown hair with blond tips, dark brown eyes and a really slim build. Not skinny, but slim like a swimmer. When the band slowed down a little and played a semi-slow number, he moved up against me, put his arms around my neck and told me to close my eyes and enjoy."

Alan grinned at him, "Did you, enjoy I mean?"

"Oh yeah. You know the term 'dry rub'? I swear he did everything but fuck me standing up. I opened my eyes and his face was so close to mine, I just leaned forward and kissed him. It was the first time I ever initiated a kiss. I'd kissed my partners before but it was usually after we'd gotten into it pretty good and I was hot enough to want more skin on skin; never before I'd even been touched. He seemed to be pretty happy with the idea and when we broke the kiss, he asked me if I wanted more. I said yeah but I was a top and he grinned and said that was cool. I think his exact words were, 'I was born to be a bottom.' He asked me if I'd ever been in the back rooms before, I told him no this was my first trip to this club. He said it cost an extra $50.00 but the rooms were clean and everything was provided and you had them for 2 hours if you wanted. I felt like an idiot because I only had $30.00 left. I knew he was serious about wanting to bottom when he pulled a twenty out of his pocket and handed it to me."

Nick stopped talking and leaned back in his chair.

Alan looked at him and waited. Nick just sat there with his eyes closed. Finally Alan said, "Have you fallen asleep Stokes?"

Nick's eyes popped open and he said, "No; don't tell me you expect me to tell you about the first time I had butt sex?"

Alan just glared at him and asked, "What part of 'all the details' did you not understand?"

"Oh for God's sake, man. This is just wrong."

"No it's not wrong. That's part of what's wrong with you. You think sex with a man is wrong but if that's the way you're wired then it's not wrong for you. You have no idea. I have to know what happened so I can help you figure out if you're gay, crazy, in denial or just determined to fuck up yourself and everyone you come in contact with. So close your eye's, start the movie and start talking. The sooner you do, the sooner I'll let you out of here for the night."

Nick glared at him for a few seconds, finally letting out a big sigh. He closed his eyes again and after a few throat clearings and mutterings, he told Alan about his first time.

"We headed for the back of the club, gave our $50.00 to the guy standing guard over the entrance to the halls and took the key he gave us and went to find our room. We were in number 10. The room wasn't anything to write home about but it was very clean, had a nice bed and when my 'bottom' opened the drawer of the nightstand, we found it was nicely stocked with several types of lube and an assortment of condoms. I asked him what he wanted me to call him and he said his name was Dave. I told him my name was Aron, that's my middle name. I was scared to death. I'd done a lot of reading and looking at the porn sites on the internet so I knew what I was supposed to do but reading and doing are two different things. I don't know if he knew I was scared or what but he went over to the wall and flipped a switch. The music from the club spilled out of speakers in the ceiling only at a much lower sound level. It was a good idea because that rocking bass and the drums came through loud and clear. Dave danced over to me and pulled me up against him and we began to dance like we were on the floor. It didn't take long at all for things to get back where they had been."

"I kissed him again and when he opened his mouth and started sucking on my tongue I got the idea that I could do this and what's more, I really wanted to do this. He started working my t-shirt off and I returned the favor. He pushed me back towards the bed and when I felt the edge against my calves I fell back bringing him down with me. He was enough lighter than me that it was easy to grab his ass and pull him up my body where I could bite his throat and I think he liked that because he let out a moan and asked me what I wanted. I told him I wanted him to undress himself slowly while I watched and then I wanted him to strip me. He did and that guy could have made a fortune with Chippendale because he had some hot moves. By the time my clothes joined his on the chair in the corner I was hard and sticking straight up. He asked me if I wanted him to give me a blow job but I didn't see any dental dams in that drawer and I wasn't that anxious to exchange body fluids without some sort of barrier so I told him no but I would like him to put some lube on his hands and jack me slowly. I didn't want to come, I just wanted to feel him do it. He did that and a little more. He was working on my balls and I was really enjoying the hell out of it when I felt his fingers rub over my ass-hole. I jumped like I'd been shot and he just grinned at me and did it again."

"Hmm. I think someone likes having his hole played with" he said. "Let me get some more lube and we'll play some more."

"He put some more lube on his hand and the next thing I knew he had a finger up my ass. I was so surprised, I didn't even think to object and when he slid the second finger in, I was about to say something but he sort of curled his fingers and pushed and I felt fireworks go off. I'd read all the stuff about the prostate and how good it feels and how sensitive it was but I didn't really believe it. I mean really; the idea of someone sticking something up your butt and it making you get off...come on. But I got to tell you, it's true. If you've never done it, there just isn't any way to explain how good it feels and I was right at the point where I was ready to tell him he could top when he pulled his fingers out and told me it was time for me to return the favor."

"Now, I knew the 'top' is supposed to prep the 'bottom' but that means sticking your fingers in some stranger's ass. I know damn well what people do with their ass. I know more stuff comes out than goes in and I was not happy about the idea BUT the kid was so appealing and he was obviously so anxious to make me happy AND he'd put up $20.00 for this so I figured if I was going to do this on a regular basis, I better get it over with. I lubed up and slipped one finger in him."

"He was warm and soft and his butt closed down on my finger like he was holding it. It wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be so I slipped another finger in. I knew from my research I was supposed to move my fingers back and forth to relax the sphincter muscle so I started doing that and I felt one of my fingers rub across a sort of a raised little nubby thing and he let out a loud sigh and bucked up against my hand. I did it again and he reacted even more. I slipped a third finger in and watched his dick start to leak and realized mine was leaking also. He reached up and pulled me down to him and proceeded to kiss me until neither one of us could breathe. When he let me go, he told me to hand him a condom, he was going to suit me up. I did and within minutes I was sliding inside a man's body for the first time in my life. It was phenomenal, even with a condom. When I started moving in him, he smiled at me and wrapped his legs around my waist. I wanted it to go on forever. I felt like I was king of the world and I could fuck for hours. I never, ever had that feeling with any woman I'd been with. I'd always enjoyed myself and so had they but this was so much more. Part of me just wanted to bury myself in him and stay there and part of me wanted to come right then and part of me never wanted to come; just wanted to keep on moving in and out of that hot, tight hole. But nature has a way of taking charge. When he grabbed his dick and pumped it twice, he shot cum all the way up to his chin. I looked at that thick, white cream and just laid down in it and rammed myself up to my balls and filled the condom."

"We used the whole two hours and I knew I'd found what I needed to keep me sane and in control."

Nick stopped talking. He opened his eyes slowly. Alan was looking at him with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Did you ever hook up with Dave again?"

"Yeah, about three months later I went back to that club. He was there. I gave him back his $20.00 and we spent another 2 hours in room 10. It was just as good as the first time."

"Were all your partners like Dave, I mean, did they look like him? You know, same body type and same coloring."

"Yeah, as a matter of fact they did. I knew I could handle someone slim like that. I've got enough muscle mass to take them down if I had to but younger than me, I could intimidate them just by using a combination of sex and my 'interrogation' voice."

Alan smiled at Nick and said, "Okay. You've done really well tonight and I know you're tired. Sleep late tomorrow and we'll pick up again around 11.00am. We may work through lunch and then you'll have the evening off. I have to be back in Vegas for an appointment at 3.30pm so I won't be back tomorrow night."

Nick was already yawning when he said good night and left the office. Alan leaned back in his office chair and thought for a while. It didn't seem possible but Nick actually did not realize that he had described Greg to a 'T'. His ideal man to fuck was Greg Sanders.

Hello there, are you all still here? Yes, this is the narrator again. I just realized the last few chapters have been all Nick and that makes sense. Nick is the one in crisis at the moment. What's that; this is about Nick and Greg so it should be half and half? Oh my, haven't you all learned by now that nothing is ever fifty-fifty. In any relationship, the chances of both partners being equally happy or equally sad are pretty rare. Most of the time, one partner is going to be 'needier' more than the other. Up to now, it's been Nick but I miss Greg and I bet you do to. Besides, it's really hard to concentrate on Nick's emotional storms for too long at a time. I need a break so let's go see what Greg is up to.

While Nick's been taking a trip down Nightmare Alley, Greg has been fighting his own battles. He was surprised at how much it hurt to have an impersonal receptionist call him and tell him that 'Mr. Buehler did not wish to have visitors until further notice.' He had
called Bobby at once and got a roll over to voice so he called Steve's phone. Steve was madder than hell. Bobby was on his phone getting the 'Mr. Buehler' message. Bobby was upset therefore Steve was upset.

Greg told Steve he'd gotten the call also and he was hoping Bobby could give him some idea what had happened but if he was getting the same call, then it had to be something bad. Steve told him he would talk to him as soon as he calmed Bobby down. Greg flipped his cell closed and then realized he needed to go to the man with the answers. He flipped the phone back open and called Alan.

Alan was just having his first coffee of the day and had no idea what Greg was talking, well yelling if we're going to be honest about it, about. He finally got Greg to calm down enough to tell him about the call and then he got another beep and saw it was Bobby. He conferenced him in with Greg and they both started talking at the same time. Then he got another beep and saw the Texas prefix. He told Bobby and Greg he would call them back. Bobby said OK and dropped off but Greg stayed so he could hear what Jillian had to say.

When he responded to the beep he found he had Jillian and Bill Stokes both and as Jillian said, they were both just as mad as wet hen's. Bill asked him if he knew what had happened.

He was just getting ready to answer when he had another beep. He cursed silently in his head, told everyone to hang on, the clinic was trying to reach him.

It was the receptionist with the same message; Nick was canceling his appointment with Alan. Alan had her switch him to Nick's day nurse. He got a quick report on Nick's condition and realized that this was more than just a whim on Nick's part. Something bad had happened. So bad that Nick was not only reacting emotionally but physically. He was feverish and in distress; all his vital signs were affected. Alan quickly switched to physician mode and prescribed, APAP and lots of fluid. For the time being, he was going to treat Nick's physical symptoms. The APAP was sometimes called Tylenol #3; it had a low dosage of codeine, Charles had mention Nick moving as though he was hurt and Tylenol for the fever reduction. The combination would make Nick drowsy but not drugged.

This only took a few seconds and Alan went back to the phone and Nicks upset parents. He told them he had Greg on hold and would they allow him to be conferenced in. They said of course so he put Greg in the call and tried to console and calm down three very distraught people.

* * *

After Jillian had summarized the plan of action, that left Greg hanging out to dry. He couldn't even call Bobby and Steve because Alan needed to speak with them and Greg knew both he and Bobby desperately needed sleep. They had been working the gang war that was escalating rapidly and he only had 6 hours to try to sleep, get showered, repack his bag with spare clean clothes, eat and get back to work. He finally took half an Ambien; one knocked him out for almost eight hours. He was hoping a half would give him 3 or 4 good hours of sleep.

* * *

The events at work kept Greg's mind off Nick while he was there but every other minute was occupied with thoughts of Nick and their time together and most of all; what the hell had gone so wrong with something that had started out so right. Where once, Greg had been thrilled to be sent out alone on a case, now he wanted to be assigned with someone because the presence of another person forced him to stop living in his memories.

He made himself make time for Annabelle at least once every 3 or 4 days to make sure she had a ride to the store. He tried very hard to make one of those trips on a Saturday morning when he could take her to a farmer's market on the outskirts of Las Vegas. Annabelle was very insistent on fresh fruits and vegetables as much as possible. Up until the crisis at work, she had been giving Greg some cooking lessons and he was amazed at the difference in taste.

He had almost made himself sick the first time she'd fed him asparagus. Now Greg really thought asparagus was a slimy grey stick thing and he had tried it once and never again. He prided himself on staying as far away from asparagus as he possibly could so when she told him they would be learning to cook stuffed pork chops with asparagus; he had turned white, made the sign of the cross and told her to back away from him slowly.

Annabelle laughed out loud at him and told him he was just too precious to be real. Greg said seriously, "I'm not kidding; that stuff is the devils work and I won't be in the same room with it."

Annabelle walked right up to Greg, reached up, she was a very tiny woman just barely 5 feet tall, took his head between her hands and pulled him down so she could press a kiss to his forehead. "Do you trust me, baby boy?"

"Sure I do but trust and asparagus do not belong in the same sentence."

"I promise, you do not have to eat them. I only ask that you take one very tiny bite and if you still feel the same way, I will never say the dreaded word again."

Greg was very apprehensive BUT he had come to love Annabelle with a purple passion so he took her shopping. They went to Marvin's, their favorite butcher and got one and a half inch pork chops so fresh, Greg swore he heard an oink when he picked them up. Annabelle told Marvin to butterfly them and Greg almost popped his neck turning around to look at her with a puzzled WTF expression.

"Butterfly, dear; it means to slice them in half but leave them attached on one side. I used to just have a pocket cut in them but my hands are not as flexible as they once were so this is easier for me now."

Then they went to the market and got vegetables and fruit. Greg was really surprised when Annabelle picked up a bunch of bright, almost lime green stalks. "I thought you were going to get asparagus."

"This is asparagus."

"No it's not. Asparagus is grey and slimy."

"Oh my Good Heavens to Betsy. No wonder you shudder at the word, you've never had fresh asparagus. Just that canned abomination." Annabelle was shaken right down to the tips of her three inch red heels.

Did I mention that Annabelle was the girliest female Greg had ever met?

"Come with me dear, we just need a few more things. I think we will have broiled peach halves with the pork chops." Greg wondered for the thousandth time since he'd met this crazy, wonderful woman if he was her pet or her keeper.

He had stayed with her in the kitchen while the stuffing was prepared, the chops were seared, stuffed and sewn up like a pair of cuffs on trousers and the rest of the meal was prepared. She sent him out to set the table with the good china, silver and linens. They always dined in style when they practiced their cooking.

Thanks to Annabelle, Greg's credit card was almost maxed out and he had the express joy of trying to explain to the Discover people, in the lab where everyone could hear, that yes, he really had charged $680.00 for china and a damask table cloth with matching napkins. When he hung up, he looked up to see a roomful of stunned expressions staring at him.

"What, what are you all staring at? Haven't you ever heard of setting a nice table?"

Catherine regained her voice first and said slowly and with a great deal of confusion in her voice, "Yeah but somehow the subject just doesn't seem to connect to you."

"Well I'll have you know, I enjoy the finer things in life as much as the next person."

Warrick finally found his voice and joined in the conversation. "Let me get this straight. You are trying to tell us that you actually plan on putting a damask table cloth on that Salvation Army reject table you have in the kitchen in your pad."

"No, that's not what I'm planning to do."

"I didn't think so." Warrick was about to settle back in his chair feeling that he'd won that round until Greg added that he'd bought a new table.

Everyone in the room started talking at the same time and before Grissom could call his unruly bunch to order, Greg yelled at them, "Fine, you all seem to doubt my word. I don't know why. I may exaggerate a little but I don't lie. Why don't you all come over to my place for dinner before shift Friday night and I will show you my new china AND my new tablecloth AND my new table." He didn't add, he would show them his newly decorated apartment. He thought he'd just keep that for a surprise.

No I haven't forgotten about the asparagus. I just went off on a tangent for a moment. I'm coming back to Greg and Annabelle but then I'm going back to Greg's dinner because it was a blast.

Annabelle called Greg into the kitchen to help her bring the food out. He took everything but he didn't see the asparagus. Annabelle told him to pour the wine and she would be right there. He did and looked up in time to see her bring in a bowl of beautiful, bright green spears. She set them down on the table and then stood by her chair. Greg just stood there. Finally, she let out a small 'ahem'. Greg came to and stammered 'Sorry' as he went to hold her chair for her. After he had seated his lady, he went to his chair and sat down. She looked at him and asked him what was wrong. He said, "I thought the grey, slimy things were bad but I don't know if I can eat even one little bite raw."

"Oh you silly boy. Come on, you promised one bite for me so let's get it over so we can enjoy this excellent dinner." Annabelle carefully cut just the tip off one of the spears, stabbed it with her fork and held it up to Greg's mouth.

He sort of backed off a little and then when he saw her patiently waiting with the fork still in front of his mouth, he thought to himself, "I have waded in sewers up to my armpits, been in garbage dumpsters over my head and had human soup splash in my face....I can do this."

He closed his eyes, leaned forward and opened his mouth. He felt something very warm land on his tongue. He opened his eyes in surprise; it couldn't be raw if it was warm. He sort of rolled the tip around on his tongue and when the flavors finally got to his taste buds he moaned in surprise and pleasure. OH MY GOD, that was good. He looked at Annabelle in complete astonishment. "What the hell did you do? Did you cast some sort of spell on those green sticks?"

Annabelle smiled at him. "Language, baby boy. No, I cooked them the way they are supposed to be cooked. Steamed with sea salt, freshly ground pepper and real butter that has been infused with garlic. What do you think?"

Greg was too busy loading some of the delectable, green spears on his plate to answer her immediately. When he did, he just grinned and said, "Annabelle you are truly a goddess. I will never doubt you again. You might even get me to eat liver and onions."

* * * * *

 

The reason I spent so much time on the whole asparagus bit was because that was the menu for the dinner Greg prepared for his friends.

Greg had wanted Annabelle to come to dinner with his co-workers but she refused telling him that if she was there, they might think she had prepared the meal and she didn't want to spoil his fun. She did tell him he was to remember every single remark and expression so he could tell her all about it.

Everyone had accepted his invitation so he had Grissom, Catherine, Brass, Warrick, Sara, Mandy, Wendy, Archie, Bobby, Steve and Hodges all at his place at the same time. That made twelve at the table but he knew he could handle it. He had picked his new table for it's wood and beautifully carved legs. He didn't realize until after it was delivered that it had two extra large insert leaves and it would easily seat 12 when fully extended. The chairs were a problem, he only had 6 but Annabelle came through for him again. She found a place in Vegas where he could rent 6 extra chairs that pretty much matched his. His new china was plain white with a gold rim and she had plain white with a green Celtic knot design AND she had 12 gold chargers. By alternating place settings, the table was a thing of beauty and Greg knew between the dining room, the food and his surprise redecoration, his team mates were going to get the surprise of their lives. He was caught off guard by the pain he felt when he realized it would be perfect if only Nick were there too.

* * * * *

The dinner party was over and everyone was back going about their regular activities. It had been a success beyond even Greg's imaginings and believe me when I say that Greg had a very active imagination.

Except for Bobby and Steve who had not only seen his apartment but had helped him with some of the changes, every single person had done exactly the same thing. He'd opened the door, told them to come on in and they had stopped dead inside the door. He'd gotten 'Wows", "Holy Shit's", a heart-felt 'Damn' from Brass and even a "Well, I'm certainly surprised" from Hodges. Every one wanted to see everything and he was so glad he'd cleaned the whole place and not just his dining room and living room. His friends had examined every single square inch of his home and Catherine had actually groaned out loud when she'd opened his closet doors and saw the shelves, compartments and various hanging rods. "My good lord, I would kill for something like this. I swear, I could get everything I own in here and have room left over. Sanders...who are you and what the hell have you done with my messy, un-organized friend?"

Greg told Catherine that he was not that messy, if she would remember, his lab was always in complete order at all times. He relented though when he saw the complete honesty on her face and heard it in her voice when she told him everything was just beautiful. He offered to come over and help her design a closet to fit her needs. She not only took him at his word, she made him set a date and time. They both agreed the date was subject to change because of their current gang situation.

Everyone was seated and the food was on the table when Warrick tapped his glass for attention and stood up. "Does everyone have a glass of wine 'cause I want to propose a little toast?" He waited until he was sure everyone was ready and then he said, "There are very few things in life that are perfect, but this comes as close as I've been in a long, long time. Great food, great friends and a beautiful place to enjoy them. There is only one thing missing to make this moment perfection."

Greg knew what was coming. He looked at Bobby. He and Steve were both looking straight back at him.

Warrick raised his glass and said, "To Nick, the only thing we need to make this moment perfect. Let's do it again when he's back home with us."

Greg managed to raise his glass with everyone else, but he couldn't get the words, 'To Nick' past the lump in his throat, nor could he swallow. He just wet his lips and put his glass back down. He knew Bobby and Steve felt the same way he did because their eyes were a little brighter than usual. He was so glad when Jim Brass spoke up and said, "Well if Nick's not here in body, I'm going to eat his portion and mine." Everyone laughed a little more than the remark deserved just because the emotion was pretty thick right then and it was a release. Food started passing around the table and everyone started sampling the meal Greg had prepared.

Warrick and Jim both took a bite of the stuffed pork at the same time and both of them moaned. Warrick looked over at Greg and said, "Greg if you actually made this yourself, I'm just going to have to switch sides and marry you."

Jim spoke up and said, "I'll arm wrestle you for him."

Catherine said, "Okay, you guys can just get all hot and sweaty. Us girls will work out a schedule and share him between us."

Greg spoke up indignantly, "Hey, still in the room here. Don't I have a say in who gets me?"

The resounding NO from everyone pretty much settled that.

* * * * *

The dinner was the last peaceful time they had. When they got to work that night all hell broke loose. A new shipment of guns had gotten past the ATF agents who'd been assisting and warfare broke out again. Nineteen bodies arrived at the morgue when it was over with. Al and Super Dave called in help from the Day and Swing shifts and finally asked the Medical College if they could send some of their seniors over to assist with the grunt work. Bobby was moving around the ballistics lab very carefully because he had guns stacked everywhere and was afraid a sudden movement would bring some of them down on his head. The CSI's, not just from Graveyard but every shift were working themselves to death even with the young interns who were on the scene. They weren't allowed to touch anything but they were invaluable for placing markers at every single piece of evidence, every spent shell, every blood spot, every single thing that seemed the least out of place. Each intern had different colored markers but there were so many, a lot of them were using the same colors so they had to put their initials on their markers as they placed them. Vartann said the street looked like a ticker tape parade with extra large confetti had passed through.

Greg didn't have a moment to think about Nick or anything else. After they went into their third straight 24 hour shift, Ecklie set up a schedule and forced them to go home in rotation. He finally was sent home after 62 straight hours. He was sure he would never wake up and in fact, when they were sent home, Ecklie told them they were to sleep until they woke without an alarm before they came back again. Greg was sure everyone but Grissom and maybe Sara would do just that. He certainly was.

* * * * *

He was at Lake Mead with Nick. He was off and Nick was on call so they packed a lunch and went out there to spend the afternoon. They found a secluded cove, put down some blankets and just relaxed. They scarfed down most of the food and were enjoying a cold beer when Nick told him to come over there to him. Nick was resting back into a corner formed by two big rocks. He'd padded the rocks with some of the extra blankets they'd brought. Greg moved over and started to sit down beside Nick but Nick stopped him and told him to turn around. He looked at his boy-friend and raised one eyebrow and said slowly, 'O-k-a-y'. He'd sat down facing Nick who reached out and sort of pulled him across his lap so he was lying against his chest. It was a strange position and not one Greg would have thought about trying to get into but after he got settled and Nick pulled one of the large beach towels they'd brought with them into another pad between his arm and the rocks, it was really very comfortable. He was literally lying in Nick's arms, they were face to face and it was so easy to exchange slow lazy kisses.

Most people don't think about gay men and kissing. The truth is, a lot of gay men love to kiss. They don't do it much during a casual encounter but in a relationship, kissing is a plus. With Greg, it was a huge plus. When he discovered that Nick loved to kiss as much as he did, he was sure he had died and gone to heaven. There were many times during their time together when they would just go to bed, hold each other and kiss until they fell into a sound sleep, waking later to take it to the next level. Kissing for both of them was comfort and closeness and almost more intimacy than sex itself. For Greg it was love on the deepest level.

Greg knew he was more vocal than Nick about his feelings and that sometimes he embarrassed his new boy-friend so he tried to keep his more extreme outbursts to himself but this was just so close to perfection he didn't even realize he'd said out loud, "You have got to be the worlds best kisser."

Nick pulled back a little and looked down at the man in his arms. Greg opened his eyes and looked up into Nick's amused face. He said, "I said that out loud didn't I?"

"Yep, you sure did. It's funny 'cause I was just thinking the same thing about you."

"You were? Really?" Greg was very surprised. He knew he wasn't horrible but he'd never thought of himself as a great kisser.

"Yeah, your lips are so soft and they just seem to fit against mine perfectly."

Greg smiled and said, "You never get too toothy or bump my nose."

Nick smiled back and said, "You never get too sloppy unless the occasion calls for a really hot, wet one."

Greg moved in until his lips were right against Nick's and said softly, "What do you say we practice what we're preaching?" He could taste Nick and the cold beer and the ham sandwiches they'd eaten. It was a taste that he knew he could live on forever. He moved closer to this man he cared for so deeply but Nick was moving away from him. He opened his eyes and saw Nick looking at him with cold, dark eyes. He tried to pull him back into his arms but Nick pulled away from him and told him to turn over. He said, 'You're only good for fucking. That's the only reason I keep you around."

Greg tried to tell Nick he was wrong. He couldn't say things to him like that; not when he'd just been holding him and kissing him like they were the only two people left on the face of the earth. He couldn't mean it. Nick held him down and he couldn't breathe and he was fighting for air and Nick was jerking him up on his knees and he knew Nick was going to force himself inside him with no preparation and he fought even harder and......

Greg woke up with a loud, strangled scream. He had his pillow pressed against his face and he jerked it away and took deep gulps of air into his burning lungs. He remembered his dream, he remembered the rape. He knew it wasn't a dream. It happened and he lived again the pain, the fear, the horror of watching the man he loved turn into a monster who held him down and tore him open. He barely made it to the bathroom in time to puke up what little was left in his stomach.

"While I'm far away from you my baby
I know it's hard for you my baby
Because it's hard for me my baby
And the darkest hour is just before the dawn."

"Dedicated to the One I Love" by the Mama's and the Papa's

Well I could have quoted Euripedes which is where the phrase supposedly came from and then of course, there is old Willy 'S'; Shakespeare. He used a form of that phrase in The Merchant of Venice but I'm a modern sort of narrator so I prefer Mama Cass and company.

And if this phrase contains any truth at all...then we are in for one hell of a dawn because things are pretty dark right now. Both Nick and Greg are having the same problem; they can't sleep. Greg is back in therapy with Alan (I'll tell you about that in a moment). First, I want to bitch a little about the way things have turned out here.

You see, I sort of side with Greg at this point. He's the one who was physically brutalized by someone he loved and trusted and he's having nightmares about it; not just sometimes but almost every time he closes his eyes. And up until recently, when he woke up, his reaction was the same; he barfed big time.

Nick, on the other hand, is having erotic dreams about Greg and he's to the point where he's soiling his clothes and his bedding a lot more than is normal so now he's afraid to go to sleep. But at least, he's having a good time with his dreams. All he has to worry about is an extra laundry charge.

He's been making a lot of progress in his sessions with Alan and that's where we pick up our story.

Alan was beginning to think that he might cure Nick Stokes without ever truly understanding Nick Stokes and he hated that. As you have probably guessed by now, Alan is pretty egotistical when it comes to his skills as a therapist. But Nick was pushing him to the limit.

After Nick's description of his first time having casual sex with a stranger (maybe not so strange) and Alan's realization that Nick's description of his 'perfect' partner was a Greg-clone, Alan was pretty sure, they were well on their way to more revelations. Boy was he wrong.

They started the next afternoon where they had left off with an examination of what Nick had disclosed. After the first hour, Nick was confused and Alan was pissed. It did not seem possible but Nick absolutely did not recognize the prototype he was describing. Alan had tried everything but getting in Nicks face and saying, "Look Stokes! THE...GUY...YOU...FUCKED...IS...GREG!!!!!

He prided himself on never leading his patients or putting words in their mouth. He knew the only true mental healing was accomplished by the patient themselves under the skillful direction of a master healer (Himself). But finally, he stopped pacing his office and said, "Nick, I am going to describe someone to you. I want you to close your eyes, listen to my voice, think about your family, friends and co-workers and see if anyone you know fits this description."

When Nick was comfortable and ready, Alan said, "A hair taller than you, brown hair with blond streaks or tips, dark brown eyes with long eyelashes, very slim build but not skinny just more streamlined with long, lean muscles not the kind you usually associate with body builders, for example."

Nick had started nodding when Alan said 'dark, brown eyes'. He opened his eyes, looked at Alan and said, "That's Greg. What's your point?"

"My point is, I took that description from your words yesterday when you described Dave to me."

There was a long silence. Finally, Nick's mouth dropped open, he looked at Alan with surprise written all over his face and said, "My God, they're Greg. They've all been Greg right from the beginning."

"BINGO. Now you've got it. So when did your attraction to Greg start?"

Nick thought for a moment and then said slowly, "The moment I met him. I remember thinking how soft his lips looked and wondering if they would feel that soft on my di..uh my body."

"Did you know you were gay then?"

"You have got to be kidding. I wasn't about to even think the word to myself."

"Nick, what the hell did you think you were doing when you went to the gay bars and shot your load all over anyone who happened to be in aiming distance? Did you really think that was what 'het' guys were doing?"

"I wasn't thinking, OK? I was just feeling. My thoughts were driving me crazy. I was like a cat chasing my tail. I kept trying to do what everyone wanted me to do. I tried to get interested in all the pretty, little Texas belles with the right upbringing and the same social circle as ours. I tried to imagine myself married to one of them and producing more Stokes for my parent's but every time I did, I usually wound up in the john, worshiping the porcelain god. Then I moved here and started over. Only it wasn't really a new start; just different women with different accents. Every time I saw one of the for more than 3 or 4 dates, they started acting like we were an item and I started puking again. I tried until the night I went to 'alterna' and danced to the beat of the drums and the bass that turned into the beat of my pulse and when I felt that big prick rubbing against my ass, I got a thrill, I had never felt before. When he pulled me out of my pant's and started jacking me, I felt every fear and doubt fall away and when he pulled my hand back and wrapped it around his cock, I stopped doing anything but feeling."

That was the start of some intensive discussions. Over the next few weeks, they covered a lot of ground starting with Nick's very embarrassed remembrance of asking Greg to be a 'friend with benefits' when he realized he couldn't get off at the clubs anymore.

"So you realized that your 'type' was a Greg-clone?"

"Yeah I did then, but I managed to push it down pretty damn far when he shot me down." They went through Nicks reactions to the Amy Hendler incident, his encounter with Nigel Crane and finally, his ordeal at the hands of Walter Gordon. At first, it was like pulling teeth but eventually, Nick realized that the more he heaped on Alan, the less he had to try to stomach himself. He didn't realize it but he was coming to trust that Alan really wasn't going to judge him. The questions he asked were to make Nick think about his actions and the reasons behind them. Nick began to take an interest in his own treatment and started spending time reading about PTSD and MPO. He did not think he had multiple personalities because he never had black-outs. He always knew where he was and what he was doing. He just didn't always know WHY he was doing it.

At the same time he began to actively participate in his treatment, he also began to re-instate his visits from Bobby, Steve, his parents and Greg. Everyone seemed to be overjoyed to spend time with him again; everyone that is except for Greg.
* * * * *
Greg was having his own problems. The horrible nightmare he had was just the first of many and eventually, he was afraid to close his eyes. The lack of sleep and the inability to keep food on his stomach was causing some bad physical side effects. He had started shaking again and he was losing weight; weight he really couldn't afford to lose. He was so tired, he was having trouble concentrating and it took him much longer to process evidence because he had to double and triple check everything. He got away with things a lot longer than he should have because the gang war was beginning to wind down and he and Bobby hardly ever even saw each other any more. It might have gone on even longer if Archie had not wandered into ballistics early one morning and asked Bobby if he'd heard from Nick. Bobby told his usual lie: yeah he'd gotten a call the other night, (thank God at least now he could say that he thought Cath or Warrick or Brass had also talked with him).

Just as Archie was leaving he turned back around and said, "You know, I hope Nick comes back soon. I don't think Greg is going to make it much longer."

Bobby jerked around and said, "Hey, hang on there. What do you mean; he isn't going to make it much longer?"

Archie looked at Bobby a little surprised at the intensity of his reaction. "I just meant, he's working himself to death. They all are but he seems to be hit the hardest; I guess because he's only a level 1 and not used to working all the doubles and triples. He looks like death warmed over; hands are shaking again and dark circles under his eyes. I heard Grissom tell him he was to go home at the end of shift this morning and not come back until he'd had some solid sleep."

Bobby nodded and said thanks. He started putting two and two together. The last time he'd been to the clinic, Nick had said he was worried about Greg. He didn't look well and he didn't seem to want to see Nick as much as he had at the beginning. Nick had even asked Bobby if Greg was seeing someone. Bobby could honestly tell him that as hard as they were working lately, he felt like he needed to take a picture of Steve to work with him so he'd recognize him when he finally got to see him again. Nick had seemed to accept his words but as he was leaving, he'd put his hand on Bobby's arm and told him he didn't know what he would do if Greg found someone new before he got well enough to tell him what he meant to him and how sorry he was for everything that had AND hadn't happened between them. Bobby had again reassured Nick that he couldn't say anything about their personal life but he knew for a fact the only person Greg was seeing was his friend Annabelle.

Bobby went into high gear and got his current test completed and all the evidence tagged and secured and went to find Greg.
* * * *
Bobby took one look at Greg and man-handled him into his car. He walked over, took Greg's duffle bag out of the back of his car, threw it in his back seat, ordered Greg to buckle up and headed for his house. Greg tried to argue with him but even his normal stubbornness seemed to be apathetic and listless.

Bobby got him home, out of the car and settled him at the kitchen table. Steve had already left, dropping Chelsi off at school on his way to work so they had the house to themselves. Bobby fixed bacon, scrambled eggs and toast. When he handed Greg a small glass of apple juice, he just looked at him and said, "What am I supposed to do with this?"

Bobby glared at him and said, "You drink it dumb ass, that's what you do with it."

Greg looked at the juice again and looked up at Bobby and said, "But I want coffee."

"Well, you ain't gonna get coffee. You need a good solid eight hours of sleep and you need some food in your stomach and that's what you're gonna get if I have to feed you myself. Don't make me pull age and rank on you Sanders. You know damn well I can and will do it."

Greg put his hands up in surrender and said, "Okay, I'll eat. I'm hungry and I have to admit that bacon smells great."

They ate their breakfast together, enjoying the companionship and occasionally sharing a few words about work and Chelsi and Steve. When Greg was finishing off his fourth piece of toast and jam, Bobby got up and fixed two cups of milk well doctored with cinnamon, nutmeg and sugar that was flavored with a vanilla bean. He put them in the micro-wave and sat down to wait for the ding. "Now talk Sanders and I mean unload. I want every damn thing you've been thinking and doing for the last two weeks that's made you look like this."

Greg tried everything he could to evade Bobby's pointed glare and even more pointed questions but finally admitted that when it came to getting down to the truth, Bobby had missed his calling. He should have been an interrogator. He didn't even realize when Bobby handed him the two Tylenol PM pills and told him to swallow them with his warm milk. He let it go and told Bobby about the horrible dreams and the bouts of vomiting that followed when he woke up in terror. He did hold back that it was Nick and that he'd raped him. He managed to lie just enough so that Bobby thought it was a delayed reaction from the Demetrious Jones affair. He ended by telling Bobby he was afraid to go to sleep now and he did everything he could to stay awake.

Bobby said that was going to stop right then and after Greg had almost dislocated his jaw with another huge yawn, he realized that Bobby had slipped him something a little stronger than plain aspirin and he was not going to be able to stay awake. He started to panic and was almost in a full blown anxiety attack when Bobby told him to relax; he was going to sleep right there and he would be with him to soothe him if and when the nightmare returned. Greg had one brief moment of his old sassy self and asked Bobby if he meant he had to sleep right there on the kitchen table.

Bobby shook his head and said, "No smart ass. Come on. We're going to bed."

He took Greg into the guest room, asked him if he could get himself undressed and into bed and when told of course, he wasn't a baby. He went into the guest bathroom to check and make sure Greg's toothbrush and personal stuff was still there from when he'd stayed with them before. When he came out, Greg was sprawled on his back across the bed with his clothes on and one shoe half off. Bobby just grinned and said, "God, it's like talking care of another kid." He finished undressing Greg down to his boxers and maneuvered him under the covers. He pulled the blankets up to his chin, affectionately rubbed his hand over his unruly curls and left the room to get himself ready for bed.
* * * *
Bobby was torn out of a sound sleep by the sound of someone pleading in terror. He was already on his feet and heading down the hall before he was awake enough to realize it was Greg and he was begging someone to please not do that to him again, please don't do it and he would be good. He would do the dishes and not eat in the living room and he would always get all the groceries on the list if he just wouldn't hurt him again. He wasn't healed from the last time and he didn't think he could stand to be torn open again.

Bobby had always heard the expression, 'his blood ran cold' but that was the first time it had ever happened to him. He knew in an instant exactly what Greg was dreaming about....and who.

He burst through the door to find Greg in a wild tangle of bed clothes, drenched in sweat trying to hide behind his pillow and holding it across his face so tight he was literally smothering himself. Bobby grabbed the pillow out of his hands and jerked Greg into his arms. He held him tight and began to rock him the way he used to rock Chelsi when she would have a bad dream at night. He rubbed his hand up and down his back and up to his head and then back down again keeping his hand moving in a slow steady rhythm. He kept telling Greg he was all right, it was just a dream, Greg was safe with him; he needed to wake up and realize he was safe. It took a while but when Greg did wake up it was immediate and his reaction was also. Bobby saw and felt him gag. He knew he couldn't get him to the bathroom but he grabbed the waste basket beside the bed and held it while Greg lost all his excellent breakfast. After he emptied his stomach, Greg just went limp in Bobby's arms. He was crying but it was silent and hopeless. There was so much sadness and heartbreak in his posture, Bobby felt himself grieving right along with him. He got Greg up on his feet and almost carried him down the hall to his bedroom. He sat him in a chair and told him not to move. When he tried to get up Greg clung to his hand with what little strength he had left, begging him not to leave him alone, not to leave him with his dreams. Bobby told him he wouldn't. He got Greg up, took him into the master bathroom and sat him carefully on the toilet. He started filling the big Jacuzzi tub with warm, almost too hot water, saying a silent thanks to his partner Steve for insisting on spending the money on the extravagant thing. When the tub was half full, he put some lavender and aloe bath salts in the water and let the force of the water mix them in the tub.

He never gave a thought to the possibility that someone might wonder about a rough, tough he-man like him, using scented bath salts. He had listened long and hard to Alan's theories about the total treatment of body and mind. He knew Alan and his partner practiced aroma-therapy at their clinic and in their personal lives. Steve had raised an eyebrow the first time he'd done it at home for them but after a nice relaxing soak in jasmine scented water, he'd apologized for doubting his partner. And believe me, when Steve decided to apologize to Bobby, Bobby was a very happy, sore, satisfied man. Now he was going to use everything he could think of short of a rubber mallet behind the ear to get Greg to relax and rest.

He pulled the young man to his feet, pulled his boxers off and made him step into the water. Greg hissed a little at the heat of the water but after a few seconds he became used to the temperature and obediently settled down into the warm frothy bath. Bobby turned on the jets and let the waters do their magic on Greg's sore tired muscles. He started to get up but Greg again grabbed onto him as though he was drowning and Bobby was the only thing keeping him from going under. Bobby tried to tell him he was just going to rinse off in the shower but Greg was too terrified at the thought of him leaving him to understand. Finally Bobby said to hell with it, stripped off his briefs and crawled into the tub with Greg. It was big enough for both of them without any inappropriate spooning. Right then, Bobby knew anything that could be construed as sexual in nature would send Greg over the edge into screaming hysteria. When he settled in the tub at the other end where Greg could see him, he calmed down and began to relax in the heat of the water. Bobby gently pried his hand out of Greg's and put Greg's hand on his leg where he could still feel him but Bobby could lay back and relax also. With both of them in the tub, there was no chance of them drowning and the inevitable happened. Both men were exhausted and dozed off in the warm swirling water.
* * * *
Steve Austin (and yes he took a hell of a lot of teasing about his name. It didn't help that with his size and strength he really could have been the six million dollar man) was used to the unexpected. After all, he was a gay man living with another gay man who loved guns the way most men loved cars. When they knew they were going to get Chelsi, they had spent days going over every inch of their house to make it baby proof. Steve found guns in places he didn't know you could put guns. Some of them had been there so long; Bobby couldn't remember putting them there. However, finding guns in strange places was not quite the same thing as finding the love of your life, your spouse of fourteen years in your bed in your house with a very naked young man wrapped around him hanging on to him for dear life.

Steve, quietly backed out of their bedroom, intercepted their lively little girl before she could see her 'daddy' in bed with another man and told her to go change out of her school clothes into her play jeans and to be very quiet, Daddy was still asleep and as hard as he had been working lately, he needed all the rest he could get.

Now Steve knew without a doubt, he knew that nothing was going on. Well at least, he knew nothing sexual was going on. Obviously, something was going on or Greg would not be in their bed wrapped around his husband. He was perturbed.

Bobby and Greg were dead to the world. Steve watched as Greg began to move a little in his sleep. He heard him let out a small moan and almost immediately, Bobby, still sound asleep, began to rub his arm and soothe him. He cataloged the movement and recognized it as the same one Bobby used to soothe Chelsi when she was a baby and had bouts of colic. He watched Greg settle back down even closer to Bobby if such a thing were possible. It only took a minute or two and neither man woke once during the episode. Steve filed the incident away in his mind to be considered later and went to take care of his daughter.
* * * *
It was almost 10.30 pm. Steve had fed their daughter and made it a special dinner to make up for 'Daddy' not waking up to join them. He set the table with the good china and put candles and flowers on the table. He told his little girl he was going to enjoy having her all to himself, just the two of them and pretended they were out on a date. Chelsi was a special little girl. She had realized at a very early age that her family life was nothing like her classmate's. It wasn't worse, just different.

Not only did she have a 'daddy' and a 'papa', her 'daddy' worked a really strange job with really strange hours. Most of the time, it was wonderful for her because she had her papa all evening and her 'daddy' all day. But there was a draw back; often her 'daddy' would be at work for hours on end and when he was home, he was so tired, he would sleep all day. This was the first time she ever remembered him sleeping all day and not waking up to tell her good night while he was getting ready to go to work.

Papa explained as well as he could about the 'war' currently playing out in the seamier streets of their home town and why her daddy was working so hard. He told her this was a very unusual thing to happen and hopefully, the work her daddy was doing would go a long way to making sure something like this would never happen again and they had to try to support daddy as much as they could. That meant that papa and Chelsi had to let daddy sleep when ever he could.

Chelsi agreed that a bowl of ice cream before she went to sleep would help a little, but only a little to make up for letting daddy sleep and not waking him up for a good night kiss. Steve was well aware this was blackmail, pure and simple, but she was the most adorable little blackmailer he'd ever encountered so he paid the 'blood price'; a small scoop of blackberry ice cream with whipped cream and a cherry on top.

Now, he sighed as he got up and went to wake his sleeping spouse and the gorgeous young man he'd been sleeping with all day.

Steve very gently moved Greg's arm off Bobby and laid it down between them. Then he carefully pulled the blankets down off Bobby and silently breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that his lover was wearing a loose t-shirt and a pair of cotton sleeping pants they used when they visited their respective parents. He knew there was nothing going on and he trusted Bobby completely but down at the bottom of his soul, he had to admit he was glad that there was no skin to skin contact. After all, no one could deny that Bobby was one hot dude and Greg, well like Bobby often said, 'Greg was so darned cute sometimes you just wanted to squeeze him to death'.

He leaned over and gently kissed Bobby awake. When his love smiled even before he opened his eyes, the last tiny tendril of doubt disappeared. Bobby wrapped his free arm around Steve and pulled him down for a 'not so gentle' kiss; one with a little fire to it. Steve responded completely but eventually, a serious need for oxygen made them both pull back. Steve didn't say a word, just cocked his head at Greg and looked expectantly at his partner. Bobby looked over and carefully pulled his arm out from under Greg. When he did, the blankets slipped down even further and Steve could see Greg was completely wrapped in one of their extra large bath sheets; only his arms were outside the towel. There was no way in hell, any sort of funny business had occurred.

Bobby carefully slid out of bed and grabbed Steve by the hand and led him into the bathroom with him. Steve started to close the door but Bobby told him to leave it open a crack. He didn't want the room to be completely dark and he wanted to listen for any sounds from his bed partner.

Bobby knew his bladder was about to bust and it was with great satisfaction that he let loose. After that many years together, peeing in front of his long-time love wasn't even a blip on his 'weird' scale. In fact, most of the time, like now, they would hold each other while they peed. When he finished, Steve carefully shook off the last drop and tucked him back in his loose pants and went over to the sink to wash his hands. Just as he turned on the water, he turned to Bobby and said, "Okay, Country. Start 'splaining."

Bobby went through the whole thing from the moment Archie turned to leave his lab until him telling Steve to leave the door open a crack. Steve had to be nudged half way through to turn off the water and dry his hands. When Bobby got through, he said, "Babe, are you sure you heard Greg say what you've just told me."

Bobby didn't blame Steve for questioning him; he was still in shock just remembering the ugly words. "Yeah, I did and there is only one meaning I can come up with; Nick raped him and not just once. Steve, from the terror in his voice it was pretty clear; he was livin' it over and over again. No wonder he's not sleeping. I knew you would understand but I got to admit, I really thought I would be awake long before you got home. What time is it anyway?

When Steve told him it was almost 11.00pm, Bobby almost hollered out loud, "Jesus Christ, I need to get ready for work. Why did you let me sleep so long? Where's Chelsi? Didn't she worry when I didn't come at least to kiss her hello and good night?"

Steve calmed his irate mate down and answered all his questions. He told him he figured if their rambunctious daughter didn't wake him up, he really needed the sleep. And now that he'd heard the story, he was glad because that meant that Greg slept also. And speaking of Greg, what were they going to do.

Bobby thought for a minute and finally said, "I don't know what else to do except keep him here with us. I know this is asking you to go above and beyond with me but he's got to sleep and he's got to eat."

Steve shook his head and said, "You know I'm not going to stop you from helping a friend. Hell he's as much my friend now as he is yours and I've got to admit, when you slipped your arm out from under him and the blanket slid down, I could see under the edge and you can see every rib in his chest. He's almost nothing but skin over bone. How long has this been going on?"

"As near as I can figure, a little more than two weeks now. He does everything he can think of to stay awake. He's living on coffee and not much else. His hands shake almost all the time and he said he's having trouble concentrating and remembering stuff that used to be as familiar to him as his own name. I'm worried sick about him."

Just then, they both heard movement in the bedroom and both men left the bathroom as quickly as possible just in case Greg was having another nightmare. Fortunately he was just waking up. He was one surprised puppy to see Bobby and Steve looking down at him. He was even more surprised when he looked around and realized he wasn't at home or Nick's or the guest room. He frowned a little and said, "How did I get in your bed?" He pulled the blankets up and looked down at himself and looked back up at them with a very puzzled expression on his face and added, "And I seem to be wearing the world's biggest bath towel; I think!"

Steve grinned at him and said, "Well according to the gal at 'Linen 'n' Things', it's a bath sheet. Greg, get up wash your face and hands, put some clothes on and join us in the kitchen." Bobby was about to argue with his spouse about getting Greg up until Greg's stomach let out a growl that sounded almost dangerous. Everyone laughed and that broke the tension. Bobby and Steve headed for the kitchen and Greg got up and started to get himself ready.
* * * *
Bobby and Greg had eaten two bowls of stew apiece along with rolls, salad and a relish plate loaded with carrots, celery and cherry tomatoes. There had been a heated argument about Greg going to work which Greg won simply by telling Bobby, he'd had the best sleep he'd had in days and he was ready to try to pick up his life again.

Steve looked at Greg very seriously until Greg dropped his eyes to the table and shut up. Steve said, "Greg, look at me. One night's sleep is not going to make up for the neglect you've heaped on your scrawny, little hide for the last couple of weeks."

Greg started to interrupt him when he called him scrawny but a stern, 'Huh-huh' from Steve shut him up real quick. He ducked his head and grabbed the last tomato and stuffed it in his mouth to keep himself from getting scolded again.

"Here's what we're gonna do. You are coming home with Bobby at the end of your shift and if you two don't get off at the same time, you're still coming home here to sleep. You will sleep with either Bobby or me until you get a handle on these night terrors you're having. You will call Alan and start seeing him again."

Greg almost strangled trying to get the tomato swallowed so he could talk back. "Why do I have to see Alan, I'm all through with him. I don't need him. I just need some sleep. I don't want to bother Alan with bad dreams."

Steve folded his arms, assumed his 'parental stance complete with glare' and said, "Greg, this is not open for negotiation, you will do this or we will do it for you. I would like you to act like an adult here."

Greg, in turn, folded his arms and assumed his stern expression. It would have worked so much better if he didn't remind both Steve and Bobby of their daughter when she was in a pouting mood. "Alright, I will call Alan as soon as I get a chance."

"No, spoiled brat, you will call Alan as soon as we get home tomorrow" Bobby in turn folded his arms. Hell, why should he be the only one not assuming the position.

"Jesus Keerist...Okay, Okay....I will call him when we get home tomorrow. BUT, when I wake up, I'm going back to my place."

Both Steve and Bobby started talking at the same time telling him he was not, he was staying right there with them. Greg let them both run out of air and then said, "Look guys, I know you are just looking out for me BUT you need time with each other and Chelsi needs time with both of you without any interruptions. I will be fine, especially if I sleep again like I did today. I never have any problems when I'm awake and I need to spend time in my own space, take care of my fish and just generally enjoy the home I worked so hard to make for myself."

Bobby looked at Steve who was smiling at Greg with an expression on his face just like the one he got when Chelsi brought home an 'A'; complete pride. He grinned and thought again how lucky he was to have this wonderful man in his life, his home, his bed. "Okay, pardner; it's a deal."

Steve held up his hands and said, "Hold on, both of you. I have one more condition. You both wear t-shirts and briefs or sleeping pants."

Greg looked at Steve with a grin on his face and said, "What's the matter, big guy? Afraid I might try to take advantage of your bed warmer."

Steve shook his head. "No, I don't think you're the kind of ass-hole who would repay a kindness like that." Greg hung his head a little and lost the grin. "Besides, even if you tried, I know my man wouldn't jeopardize what we have, not even for a cute little pup like you. No, I want you both decent because I'm not hiding anything from our daughter. She's gonna want to at least look in on her daddy and I'm gonna tell her that Greg is staying with us until he gets over the bad dreams he's having. I just want to make sure when she sticks her head in the bedroom, all she sees is her daddy and her Uncle Greg trying to catch up on their sleep."

Steve had started clearing the table while he was talking and was currently leaning back against the kitchen sink. Greg got up, walked over to Steve and just collapsed against his big, warm body. He put both arms around him and held on tight. Steve calmly wrapped his arms around Greg and hugged him back. Finally Greg pulled his head out of Steve's shoulder and said with a deep sigh, "You know, every time I start feeling sorry for myself, I think about you two and what kind of men and what kind of friends you are. I stop my pity party because I figure somewhere, somehow along the way, I must have done something right to have you two for friends. God must have liked me for something and I try to act so that you two will be proud of me."

Steve didn't say a word, just hugged the young man tighter and kissed the top of his head. Bobby cleared his throat and said, "OK, Sanders, unhand my man and let's get this show on the road. Crime waits for no man ya know,"

* * * * * * * * * *

Alan was not a happy therapist. It wasn't that he didn't want to help Greg and technically, Greg was still half of a client. He was treating Nick as part of a couple unit with Greg in order to be able to share information they wanted the other to know. He was angry because Greg was having bad dreams.

One of the reasons Alan was such a good healer was because he had a sixth sense that almost bordered on the psychic. He often took two completely opposite statements and put them together to get a working hypothesis for a couple's problems. The minute he heard Greg trying to explain he thought his dreams were a hold-over from the James case, he knew the guy was lying. The scene with Nick right after his 'relapse' flashed in his mind.

* * * * * * * * * *

 

"My point is, no one knows the horrible secret you've uncovered about yourself." Alan who was trained to watch his patient's closely, noticed a visible flinch when he said that. So someone else did know what had sent Nick spinning down into depression.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alan made one of his leaps. He knew, just as sure as he knew he was the greatest psychiatric therapist in the US, that Greg was dreaming about the 'horrible secret' that sent Nick into a depressive slump. What ever it was, it was bad and because Nick thought he was so depraved he didn't want his loved ones around him, it had to be something Nick had done. Greg was dreaming and puking....it was something Nick had done to Greg. Damn he was good and for once, he was really sorry he was.

Marie heard a thump from Alan's office and went to see if he'd dropped some books or knocked something over. There wasn't a patient in there so she didn't have to worry about him being in physical danger. At least she didn't think she did. When she opened the door and saw him quietly banging his head on his desk, she went into his bath, got a towel and brought it out. When he raised his head to bang it again, she quickly slipped the towel onto the desk. When Alan didn't get the satisfying bang he was expecting, he opened his eyes, stared at the offending towel and looked up into Marie's calm face. He knew her; she was assuming her 'mother handling capricious child' mode.

He straightened up and glared at her. "You do know, I am perfectly capable of monitoring my own treatment, don't you?"

"I realize I don't have a bunch of letters behind my name but it doesn't take a genius to know that banging one's head against a solid surface is a classic symptom of autism NOT treatment."

"Marie, we both know that some of the smartest people in the world never went to college. You are not a shrinking violet so you are obviously 'handling me'. Aren't you?"

"Do you want to be handled? I know it's been a while since you've had a night out with one of your bimbo's. Are you suffering from sexual tension? I'm sure I can find an escort service with a suitable staff if you feel the need of a different type of 'treatment'."

"God, I wish I had the guts to fire you, you insufferable woman. How I ever let you take control of my life I will never know. You must have slipped some mind control drug in my food. I know if I were in my right mind, I would never allow you to get away with the crap you do."

Can you tell these two people have been together for a long time now and are completely comfortable with each other? If you're old enough to remember Perry Mason, just think of Marie as Alan's Della Street and yes, if they would both just open their eyes, they would realize they are perfect for each other. But that's another story.

Marie walked around the desk and sat down in the comfortable 'patients' chair. "Come on doc, spill. What's got you so upset; too many patients? I can close our client cases to new patients for a while and try to reschedule the existing ones."

"No, it's not that. It's Nick and Greg."

"Why am I not surprised. I knew when I heard Greg's voice on the phone that he had regressed and you would be ready to work 18 hours a day to get him fixed again. What's happened?"

After so many years as his office manager/personal assistant, Marie had become almost as good as Alan was at reading their clients. He had no qualms what-so-ever about discussing his patients, their problems and possible courses of treatment with her. She was an excellent sounding board and when Alan was being brutally honest with himself, he admitted, he would not be nearly as good as he was if he didn't have her commonsense approach to keep him from straying off point. He unloaded on her about his two favorite/most exasperating patients.

After he had told her everything, she just sat there. He was used to the silence by now and knew not to rush her. She was cataloging everything he had told her, comparing statements, posture, reactions and putting all of it into a clear time-line. Finally she sighed and said, "You know don't you?"

"Yeah I know, I was hoping I was wrong."

"No, Nick was not only mentally cruel to Greg; the lack of key, refusal to allow him to keep his music and clothes in his house wasn't the only problems. Nick either sexually or physically abused Greg. You have to figure out if Nick does know what he did...."

"I know he does. That's what caused his melt down right after we started his therapy."

"I agree. Right now, the most important thing is to find out how Greg feels about it and help him to accept and move on."

Alan said, "And now you know, why I was banging my head on the table. I swear Marie, if there ever were two people meant for each other, it's those two. There was an attraction the moment they met and that's never been disputed by either. The flame just grew through the years they worked together. It probably was what helped both of them get through the disasters they have endured. You talk to them separately and it's just so obvious, they are each other's hero. They both believe the other is noble and brave and every good thing a human being is supposed to be. But now, Greg not only has to face the fact that his 'hero' brutalized him but he's getting his face rubbed in it every time he closes his eyes."

Alan lay his head back down on his desk and stayed there for a second. "I have no idea whether I should try to help them get over this and get back together or to gently but firmly separate them and tell them to never darken each other's door again."

When Marie didn't answer him, he raised his head and looked at her and said, "Well?"

Marie stood up and walked over to the office door. As she opened the door, she turned around and said, "Querido, you know you are the world's biggest romantic. You believe in happy ever after and alls well that ends well. You cannot 'not' try to get them together. It would go against every single cell of your body." She threw him an impudent kiss and gently closed the door behind her.

For the billionth time since the day he hired her, Alan realized she was once again, one step ahead of him. He pressed the intercom and told her he was going to the clinic and to call Greg and tell him to be in his office as early as possible the next morning.

* * * * * * * * * *

In what had become a habit, Nick and Alan had dinner in the public room with a table full of other patients. They took their after dinner coffee and went to Alan's office. They settled down and visited for a short time. No mention of cases or patient/doctor interaction, just two guys talking about the news and sports and Bush's latest foot-in-mouth gaffe. Finally, Nick asked Alan how much longer he thought he would have to stay at the clinic.

Alan finished his coffee thoughtfully and said, "You know Nick, you have made terrific progress the last couple of months. I think you are finally accepting your sexuality and you seem to see where your inner conflicts have caused to exhibit some pretty weird behavior. Is that a fair statement?"

Nick laughed and told Alan, he thought he'd been pretty understated by just calling it 'weird'. The laughter covered some painful weeks for Nick. When he realized he had deliberately gone to 'Ball and Chain' looking to be punished, he had to have a few days to himself just to accept what he knew was true. Alan had not given him an inch. He made him realize and accept that he knew deep down, he might not come out of the club whole; hell if he were honest and Alan would allow nothing else, he knew he might not come out at all. He'd gone to the club hoping it would be either an end or a beginning. Thanks to good friends, it was 'the' beginning; the beginning of everything.

Nick accepted he was gay; not bisexual, not confused, not conflicted but just plain 'gay'. He loved women; as friends, co-workers and relatives. He did not have, nor could he pretend to have, sexual feelings about women. Even his experience with Kristi had been more a case of fooling around or experimentation rather than an attempt at a really serious relationship. In fact, when he forced himself to face the truth, he realized he had never had an orgasm with a woman that even came close to a simple hand job from a man. And when compared to his sexual relationships with Greg, well, there simply was no comparison. Greg blew every one out of the box.

Alan looked at Nick. He knew he had to walk a tightrope now. He could not let Nick know what he suspected. Suspected hell, he knew it as sure as he'd been in the room with the two men and watched it happen. He could not let any of that show. Nick was just as much his patient as Greg was and it was now evident that while Nick might not have MPD, he had a battle going on inside his mind, heart and soul. There were two Nick's. Alan was almost 95% sure that the real Nick was the sweet man that Greg and Bobby and Steve and Nick's parents knew and loved so deeply. But there was that damned 5% that kept him from sleeping soundly at night.

"Nick, there are two areas left and they are the most important of all. We need to explore your relationship with Greg AND we need to figure out what incident caused your mental confusion to begin with. I think we both know the cause happened a long time ago. You've told me over and over that you had an idyllic childhood, something right out of the story books but that can't be true and you know it. Something happened and you have to turn Jillian's light of truth on that something to get it out in the open and get it under control."

"We both know that what ever happened was the direct cause of your problems with Greg. Now, you've asked me several times about things Greg has talked about and because of Greg's openness and desire to help you, he has given me a pretty, free hand about talking to you. In that spirit, I want you to know, when Greg first came to me, I asked him what he wanted to get out of our sessions. He said he wanted to know what he did wrong because he did not want to think that he would never have a loving relationship again in his whole life. He didn't want the five months he spent with you to be the pattern for the rest of his life on this earth. Can you be as brave as he is?"

Nick was preparing for bed. He'd called his folks and had a long talk with them. He told them almost word for word what he and Alan had talked about. If nothing else came from this long ordeal, the open exchange between Nick and his mother and father was a huge plus. Nick finally realized that his parents loved him completely; not unconditionally, there was a big difference. They expected honesty from him and they expected him to give the very best he had no matter what. They would not allow him to make excuses for his actions but they were more than willing to listen to reasons.

The only thing that still confused Nick was although he knew they were not happy about his sexual orientation, they fully expected him to be as caring and faithful to a male partner as he would have been to a female.

But the relationship they had now was so wonderful and supporting, Nick was willing to spend the rest of his life trying to make them proud of him no matter how things turned out with Greg.

He knew they were concerned about this next step. They felt that somehow they had failed him growing up. They had so much faith in Alan that if he said something happened in Nick's childhood that caused his current problems then obviously, something happened. The only problem was, neither they nor Nick could come up with anything.

After talking with his folks, Nick had called Bobby and Steve. He thought there was an oddity in the conversation. There was a certain hesitancy that he couldn't put his finger on but things seemed to get better after he told them he was on the home stretch. When he said he and Alan were going to be exploring his childhood and then his feelings about/for Greg, Bobby came on the line and asked him how he felt about that.

Nick told him honestly, he was scared shitless. He simply could not think of anything that had sent him down his path of self destruction but he was willing to do anything to make things up to Greg. When he hung up, the warmth seemed to be back in their exchanges and Nick decided he must have imagined the earlier coolness.

He put in one quick call to Catherine and made the usual lies about his nephew's condition but he managed to change the focus from him to what was going on at work and how she and Lindsay were getting on. They talked for almost 15 minutes until she told him she had to go. It took her a little longer now to look good. Nick told her she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever met and she didn't need a gallon of face paint to keep her that way. The reason he got away with it was because he meant it completely. He had always thought Catherine was sexy and beautiful and smart and except for the brief 'reverse forensics' thing, they had always been very close.

Finally, he called Greg. He found no matter how often he called him, he still got sweaty palms and a flutter in his stomach. When he heard his voice, he felt like the floor was disappearing out from under him. "Hey Greg, do you have a minute for me?"

"Why Nicky Stokes, I always have a minute for you."

"I'm just getting ready to hit the sack and I wanted to hear your voice the last thing. What are you doing?

"Talk about turning things upside-down; you're going to sleep and I'm getting ready to go to work. How are things going?"

"Good. Alan says we only have 2 really hot issues to discuss and I think he's going to get us together for the last one. How do you feel about that?"

"I told him and I'm telling you; what ever it takes to make sure I never get another call like the one I got from Rob. Which reminds me, Rob called me and said he'd been going to see you. When did that happen? What's up Stokes, you hitting on one of my 'gay' friends?"

"No, you crazy person, I'm not interested in anyone but you."

"Nick, please don't...!"

"I'm sorry Greg; I know you don't want to discuss anything personal about us. It's just that sometimes I miss you so much it slips out. I've learned so much about myself and oddly enough, I've learned a lot about you and what you need and what I have to be willing to give you."

"Nick, I don't want to upset you but I just can't handle this right now. I'm willing to talk about our problems with Alan acting as moderator but I'm not ready to talk about anything that did or didn't happen between us. Can you understand, please?"

"Yeah, I can understand, just please don't hang up. I really need this time with you before I go to sleep. So do you want to know why I'm seeing Rob?"

Greg was so glad to change the subject, he immediately said 'sure, he did want to know'.

"Well, I realized that Rob was just following your lead and that's not a criticism of you. It's just a fact. When you brought him over to the house, he looked to you to see how he was supposed to behave. He wasn't leading you into trouble, he was just following you. But, he was a real friend to us both when he called you that night. When I finally realized how dangerous my behavior had become, I thought about all the clubs I'd gone to and how often he was either there as a customer or working behind the bar and he never told you. He was protecting you. He didn't want to spoil things for you. The only reason he called you that night was because he knew I was in danger. I owed him and I needed to apologize to him face to face and thank him for looking out for both of us. You know what's funny? He's a really good guy, not quite as smart or crazy as you are but he's sure fun to spend some time with. He's really been good for one of the kids here."

"Oh yeah, he told me about him...uh... Bradley, Brandon..."

"Brady. Brady Markham. He's almost 18 and he's been in and out of clinics like this since he was eleven. His folks are really wealthy but all Brady has ever been was a check mark on their list of things to do, You know, get married, buy huge mansion, have son to carry on the family name. Once he was born, they handed him off to servants to raise and he's never in his life had anyone to care just about him. He's a doper, a drunk, a cutter and of course, the poor kid is gay to boot. He got the quadfecta of bad luck."

"Quadfecta? Nick is that a word?"

"Hell I don't know, I was just taking the term trifecta and adding one more to it."

"What's his connection with Rob?"

"Well, it's pretty damn obvious Rob is gay. The eyeliner and mascara in the daytime is sort of a dead giveaway. We noticed one day when we were in the public room that Brady was actually ease-dropping on us and you know Rob? He got up, walked over, grabbed Brady and pulled him over to join us and I swear I actually heard the kid laugh at one of Rob's crazy stories. I didn't even know the kid could laugh. Even Alan is impressed."

"Nick, are you going to work with Alan tomorrow?"

"No babe, uh, I mean no. He's got a patient in town that's sort of had a lapse and he needs to get back to him but we are going to start tomorrow afternoon or evening. Depends on when he gets back here. You need to go don't you. I don't want you to be late. I just needed to say good night to you."

"It's okay, I was ready when the phone rang and I've been throwing a lunch together while we talked. I like saying good night to you. I'll be even happier when you're back at work and we're saying hello at the start of our shift."

"Is there any chance you will be coming down tomorrow?"

"Uh no I can't. I've got an appointment. Nothing special, just a routine annual checkup but I've cancelled twice already and I need to get it over with. I will try to make it the next day though."

They said their good-byes. Nick knew as he placed the phone back on his night stand that Greg had just lied to him. He prayed again as he had been praying for weeks now that Greg would not find someone new; that he would get a chance to make everything up to him. He also knew he didn't deserve the chance and if Greg found a new love it would be the end of happiness for him.

* * * * * * * * * *

Greg clicked his phone off and slipped it into his vest pocket. He hated lying to Nick and he was almost sure Nick knew he'd lied. It was a small measure of how far Nick had come that he hadn't exploded in rage and accused Greg of lying. It was hard to compare the Nick he'd been talking with and visiting for the last few weeks with the Nick of his nightmares. But he knew he had to remember them both and God help him, tomorrow he would be facing Alan and trying to keep the truth from him.

Alan always started the hour by asking him what he wanted to get out of the session. Greg wished he could tell him he wanted to keep the beginning of his night-terror and lose the end. He thought about that afternoon at Lake Mead. That had really happened. He'd really lain in Nick's arms and they'd exchanged slow, sweet kisses until they were both so desperate for each other, they had taken a huge chance by getting in the back of the Denali and right there had gotten naked and made hot, sweet love until they were both limp. They had to rest a while before they were able to drive back home. When they finally pulled out of the beach area, Nick had reached over and opened his zipper. He'd slipped his hand inside his pants and held his limp, flaccid cock all the way home. By the time they got home, Greg was no longer limp and flaccid and was ready to start all over again.

Greg shook his head and verbally scolded himself. He knew he had to stop remembering the past and leave it there; in the past. Just because Nick was talking sweet and rational right now did not mean he wanted to take a chance that they could actually become a functioning couple. God, there was so much baggage between them. He really wondered sometimes if it was possible to forgive, forget and start over. He was not happy right now BUT if he could get rid of the nightmares, he knew he could make some sort of a life for himself that did not depend on Nick Stokes being a part of that life.

* * * * * * * * * *

Greg went to work and Nick went to bed but they were part of each other all night. When Greg was not actually working on collection or analyzing data, he could not get Nick out of his mind. All he had to do was get quiet, just sit down or go pour a cup of coffee and he swore he could feel Nick's hands on him, his body against his. When he closed his eyes, he could taste Nick. The flavor of his sweat and his mouth; he had the sweetest mouth and when he went down on Greg, he would suck and lick him until there was not a drop of cum left in or on him. Then he would move up Greg's body and kiss him slowly sharing his own taste augmented by Nick's sexy, sweet wetness. Greg felt the unexpected tears welling up and he yelled 'NO' and threw his cup across the break room.

He waited for someone to come in and demand to know what the hell was wrong with him but evidently, everyone was either busy or out of the lab. He cleaned up his mess and went to see if he could find someone, anyone who needed help.

* * * * * * * * * *

Nick was not faring any better. He did actually go to sleep but he started dreaming almost immediately. Only this time, he wasn't dreaming about making love to Greg. He was dreaming about someone else making love to Greg while he sat in a contraption that bore a frightening resemblance to an electrical chair. His arms were fastened to the arms of the chair by broad leather straps as were his ankles and his calves. He had a heavy leather strap around his forehead forcing his head upright and against the back of the chair.

Warrick was standing behind a naked Greg, his dark hands startling against Greg's creamy white skin. Warrick was naked also and had a huge erection. As many times as Nick and Warrick had showered together after nasty crime scenes or games or workouts at their gym, he knew Warrick's body almost as well as his own. Nick could see his erection clearly when Warrick turned Greg towards him and reached down and wrapped his long, musician's fingers around both their dick's and started rubbing them together. Nick could hear Greg make those soft, sweet moans deep in his throat that meant he was getting turned on and would need more in a very short time.

Warrick turned his head toward Nick and said, "You know bro, you are one stupid mother-fucker. How the hell could you let a sweet ass like this one get away from you? He's mine now and I know how to make him happy, don't I baby?"

Warrick bent his head and began to suck on Greg's throat. Nick watched Greg tilt his head over to the side. He felt pain, horrible pain; he recognized the movement. It was the same way Greg would expose his throat to him when he kissed and bit at his pulse. When he felt the hot, sweet blood just below the surface and wished he had vampire fangs so he could pierce that white skin and suck that blood out of his body and into his. He wanted Greg so close to him, that sometimes just tasting his blood was the only way he thought he could satisfy his cravings.

Warrick kept kissing and sucking on Greg while he was holding their cock's together and rubbing them. He winked at Nick as he slipped his hand down a little lower and began to fondle Greg's balls and the heavy, loose sack that was beginning to tighten with anticipation. He raised his head from Greg's neck and Nick could see blood on his lips. He had bitten Greg so hard the blood was flowing and Greg was just hanging in his arms almost unable to stand on his own two legs.

Warrick fastened his mouth over Greg's and kissed him deeply. He pulled back and told Greg to lick his blood off his mouth. Greg started cleaning him before he even finished the sentence. He asked Greg if he wanted him to fuck him or suck him. Greg sighed one word; "fuck"! Warrick walked him over to the chair where Nick was bound. He told him to lean over and put his hands on the seat of the chair. Greg didn't seem to see Nick in the chair so when he put his hands on the chair seat, he was actually putting his hands on Nick's thighs. 'Rick told him to spread his legs apart, he wanted clear access. Just as he started to enter Greg, Nick noticed that he had no lube on his cock or his fingers. He was poised at Greg's opening and Nick realized he was going to take him dry and he screamed 'NO' just as Warrick forced his huge cock inside Greg. Nick saw just as he lunged forward that Warrick had what looked like barbs growing out of his dick and when he penetrated Greg, there was a horrible scream of pain followed by blood pouring out of Greg and spilling on Nick's feet. He felt the hot blood splash on him and again screamed 'NO'. Warrick started to laugh and said, "So, you think you're the only one who gets to rape him? Once you treated him like that you made him fair game for anyone else who wants a nice bloody piece of ass."

Nick woke up screaming. Within seconds Charles was at his side trying to get him calmed down. He was too deep in his dream to realize where he was and he was fighting hard. He was also screaming and crying at the same time. One of the nurses ran into the room and Charles yelled at her to go wake Alan and tell him to get there ASAP and get him some help. Two more orderlies ran into the room and tried to help Charles hold Nick down.

When Charles first entered the room, he wanted to keep Nick from hurting himself but now he and the two orderlies were just trying to keep him from hurting them. Alan came into the room on a dead run and threw himself on top of the fighting, screaming, hysterical man on the bed. He was yelling for a syringe of morphine and he wanted it now. The floor nurse was there in less than 60 seconds with the medication, but it took a while for them to get a spot where Alan could get the needle into Nick and not one of them. Even after he had injected the entire contents of the syringe Nick kept on fighting them until he just passed out and went limp.

Everyone was too hyped up to just let go of Nick and so it took a few moments before they all let him go and stood up. Alan was leaning over trying to catch his breath. Charles had collapsed on the floor beside Nick's overturned night stand. The two orderlies were sort of leaning on each other. Alan finally was able to get a deep breath and slowly stood up. He looked at his staff. There were injuries; Charles had a gash on his upper arm where he'd landed on Nick's broken water carafe. Both orderlies had split lips, one of them had what was going to be a spectacular black eye and Alan realized he was going to be eating oatmeal and soup for a few days if the pain in his jaw was any indication. He took another deep breath and asked, "DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?"

Evidently no one did.

Alan ordered Charles into the first floor minor surgery room to have his arm cleaned, dressed and stitched. He told the two orderlies to help him down there and have their wounds cared for at the same time. He told the night nurse to call in their back up nurses and get housekeeping up there to get the room put back together. He had Nick moved to another room for the night. This one had a bed with restraints. It's a good thing Nick was out because if he'd seen the leather straps being fastened around his arms and legs, he would have freaked out all over again.

Alan told them to keep a round the clock watch on Nick and call him the second he showed signs of waking. He went back to his room, looked at himself in the mirror and groaned out loud. God he looked more like a boxer than a reputable medical healer. He carefully got into the shower and after several applications of very hot water followed by lukewarm almost tepid sprays; he got out, dried off carefully and grabbed a bottle of Lori tabs out of his bathroom vanity. He went back into his bedroom, poured a stiff glass of Jack Daniels and took a very health swig, washing down the Lori tab at the same time.

Yes, I know...taking something as strong as a Lori tab with liquor is not generally recommended but you have to admit, this called for harsh measures.

He crawled back into bed and as he turned out the light and tried to go back to sleep, all he could think about was a line from The Godfather III. Somewhat paraphrased, what was going through his mind was,"Just when I think I've got him figured out, he pulls another psycho trip on me."

* * * * * * * * * *

The Lori tab went a long way to helping with the pain in Alan's jaw but it did nothing for him as a sleeping agent. He slept fitfully when he did manage to drift off and kept waking up and going down to check on Nick. Finally, after the third trip down, Helene the nurse in charge of watching his problem patient asked him if he was checking on Nick or her. "I know what my instructions are, Alan. I'm watching him like a hawk and something really bad happened to our boy. Even with a skin full of dope, he's restless, he's crying in his sleep, he's talking..."

Alan quickly interrupted her. "What's he saying, can you tell?"

"If you'd give me a chance to finish my report, I can do better than that." Helene took a small recorder out of her pocket and placed it on the counter between them. She pressed the play button and Nick's voice, heavily drugged but still scared to death could be heard begging Greg to forgive him. He said something about 'never meant to do that to you' and 'never thought it would put you in danger from" and then nothing but soft helpless sobs. That went on for a few seconds then Nick's voice was stronger, almost a growl and he said, he would kill and the word was garbled. He would kill anyone who dared to hurt him again.

Alan sighed. Everything was coming to a head and it was happening too fast. He needed the precipitating incident before he worked on Nick and Greg as a couple. He knew that was what was driving this duality that Nick was experiencing. Oh Shit, Greg. He knew he could not leave Nick, not now but Greg sounded so lost when he spoke with him. He thanked Helene, promised her he would not be back until she called him to tell him Nick was waking up and went back to his room.

While most of the time, he cursed the fact that Bobby Dawson worked graveyard, right now, he was so grateful. He called Bobby at work.

"Ballistics, Dawson speaking."

"Bobby, its Alan."

"What's happened, why are you calling me in the middle of the night?"

"Because you work graveyard and I can. What's going on with Greg?"

"Uh, don't you have an appointment with Greg in a few hours?"

"Yes but I'm asking you now, what is wrong with Greg? How serious is it? Why do you know I have an appointment with him?"

Bobby was silent for a minute then he said slowly, "Look Alan, I know we're all friends and such and that makes it hard on you but I don't think I should be talking about Greg to you. Besides, Steve and I promised him we'd stay out of it if he called you and made the appointment."

Alan couldn't help but smile. When Bobby was upset, just like Nick, the accent got thicker and thicker.

"Bobby, I know all that and I hope you know I would not ask you if it wasn't really important. How bad is Greg? Could he hold off seeing me for a while?"

Alan's spirits dropped; Bobby was saying 'No' before he even finished his sentence.

"No, he can't wait. He needs help now. Me and Steve are trying to take care of him but he needs you. Why don't you want to see him?"

Alan sighed; he was about to do something that went against every ethical standard he lived by. He was going to talk about a patient. "Look Bobby, Nick had another attack for want of a better word tonight."

Bobby interrupted him asking anxiously if Nick was alright.

"You tell me. Right now he's strapped down in one of our holding rooms. Charles and two orderlies had to go to surgery for stitches; Charles has a bad cut on his arm, both orderlies have split lips and one is going to have a shiner and I'm going to be eating soft food for the next few days and praying I don't lose any of my fancy dental crowns. Bobby, I've got to know; what does Greg need to see me about."

Bobby let out a sigh just as deep as Alan's had been. "Greg is having nightmares and I just don't mean bad dreams; I mean nasty, gut wrenching, sweat popping nightmares. We've been working so hard on this damn gang war I've not been keeping as close watch on him as I should and when I took a good look at him...well, I took him home with me and put him in the guest room. I went to bed in our room and got woke up with him crying and screaming. When I got to him he was drenched in sweat, had a pillow over his face so hard he was struggling to breathe and shaking like a leaf. It took forever to get him awake. Steve said he's just skin stretched over some bones. I know why, when I finally got him awake, he puked until he threw up blood. I took him back to bed with me and by soothing him every time one of the dreams started, we both managed to get some rest. Steve and I are going to keep him in our bed until you can figure out what's wrong."

"What's he dreaming about Bobby?"

"God, I don't feel like I have the right to even speculate. I heard a few words but he was so far into the dream, he could have been talking about anything." Bobby just did not want to spill Greg's secret not even to the one man who might could help him. He felt like it was betrayal of the young man he and Steve cared for so much.

"Okay! What if I tell you what I think he's dreaming about and you tell me if I'm right? Is that a deal?"

Bobby reluctantly agreed.

"He's being raped by the one man who should be loving and caring for him and it's not just happened once. He's living all of them over and over in his sleep."

A loud, heartfelt, "SON OF A BITCH" was all Alan needed to know he was right.

God help him; which wounded man needed him the most?

After some more heated discussion and one sort of funny revelation, Bobby and Alan came to a decision. Greg was temporarily being cared for but Nick was in jeopardy so Alan would stay with Nick and Bobby and Steve would continue their hands-on care of Greg as a temporary solution; then came the funny revelation.

Just before they said good-bye, Bobby had said, "Uh...Alan, please try to get Greg in to see you as soon as possible."

"Bobby, you know I will but why, is there a problem with you and Steve taking care of him?"

"Well, you know Steve and Chelsi are my whole life and I'm pretty sure Steve feels the same about me but...."

"But what?"

"Well, Greg is always appealing and with him as hurt as he is right now and the fact that he's a snuggler and a cuddler...well....Damn it, you know what I'm trying to say!"

Alan could not help it; he laughed out loud. When Bobby's heartfelt swearing finally got through to him he tried to hold the laughter down to an occasional chuckle and when he thought he could talk he said, "What's the matter Bobby? Having control issues?"

"Alan, it's not funny. It's a damn good thing Steve said we all had to wear t-shirts and briefs or sleep pants. I swear some times I think I'm gonna wake up and find him nursing on me like a baby. He cuddles up until he's either on top of you or half-way under and those long legs and arms of his just sort of wrap around and hold you. If this goes on too much longer, Steve and I are going to have to try to explain to our daughter that her two father household just became a threesome!"

At that point Alan lost it again and only managed to stop when Bobby told him he was hanging up on him.

"Whoa Country; I'm sorry, but Lord I needed that laugh. If you can avoid it, don't tell Greg about Nick's episode. Just tell him I had a patient go bad and I need to postpone his appointment for a time. Tell him either me or Marie will call him just as soon as I'm free."

And that's where they left it.

* * * * * * * * * *

Well, that's where they tried to leave it. When Bobby gave Greg Alan's message, he went ballistic and said, "It's Nick...What's happened to him...God it's all my fault... I knew he knew I was lying but he didn't explode or accuse me of anything he just said good night and he would see me the next day and he seemed to be so calm...I should have known something was wrong...but I just hoped it meant he was getting better and was able to control his rages and I've got....mnpthwpw"

"STOP, BREATHE...Good God Almighty; how can you spit out so much with out ever stopping to take a breath?" Bobby had been trying to get a word in edgewise and finally just clamped a hand over Greg's mouth to shut him up. "If I take my hand away will you be quiet?" Greg's head was shaking 'no', 'no', 'no' almost shaking Bobby's hand off. "Okay, will you promise to spit out one sentence at a time and wait for an answer?" That time, he got a yes shake. Bobby carefully removed his hand. He felt like the kid who stuck his finger in the dike to keep it from flooding. He was afraid; no matter what Greg said (or nodded) the word flow would start again.

"It's Nick isn't it; he's the patient who's gone 'bad'?"

Bobby knew they were way past the point where a simple lie would calm Greg down so he nodded his head yes, it was Nick. Before Greg could spill out another barrage of words, Bobby clamped his hand over his mouth again and said, "Okay, I should have stipulated that you get a question and I get a question but that's the new rule so now it's my turn. What did you lie to Nick about?"

Greg told him about Nick asking him if he was coming to see him after work and he told him no he couldn't; he had a doctors appointment.

Bobby looked at him with a slightly puzzled expression. "Greggo, that's not a lie you did have a doctor's appointment; with Alan."

"I didn't tell him it was Alan; I lied and said it was a routine checkup with my dentist."

"Why did you say that?"

"If I told Nick I was seeing Alan, he would get all worried and think there was something wrong with me and he doesn't need to be worrying about anything but his own problems right now."

"Let me get this straight. In order to keep Nick from worrying about you and your health, you lied to him so now he's worrying about you having a hot date with some other guy. Is that it?"

"What do you mean he's worrying about me having a date? What are you talking about? Why should he think I'm dating anyone? Did you tell him I'm seeing someone? My God, I wonder if Rob gave him that idea. I'm gonna kill Rob...I'm just plain gonna.....mwmph"

Bobby had clamped his hand over his mouth again. If looks could kill, Greg would be a crispy critter right about now. Bobby was using his 'I am the gun guy and I can kill you with one shot or keep you suffering for days' glare. Greg meekly kissed the palm of Bobby's hand. When the hand was removed from his mouth, he said, "Sorry; shutting up now."

Bobby snorted, "Yeah right, like you could actually shut up. We have to call Alan and tell him this. It may help him figure out what happened."

Alan was not really surprised to hear Bobby's voice on the phone. He was pretty sure Greg would immediately guess that his mystery patient was Nick. He was surprised to hear Greg's version of the conversation he'd had with Nick.

"Alan, I just know this is all my fault. What can I do to help him?"

Alan didn't think it was Greg's fault but he was pretty, damn certain that somehow Greg was connected to Nick's explosion. "Greg, exactly what time did you have this conversation with Nick?"

"Uh...it was just before we hung up and that was just almost 11:00 pm 'cause I just grabbed my lunch and my keys and headed out the door right after that."

"Well then, you take a deep breath and relax. Nick's episode occurred just after 3.00am this morning. He'd been asleep for hours. If this was because he knew you lied and thought you were seeing someone new, he would have erupted as soon as he hung up. I think his subconscious was reacting to all the probing we've been doing and he was dreaming about being held in the club." Alan was just telling a little white lie not a big whopper but he felt a small lie to help Greg get some decent sleep was worth it.

Bobby knew what ever Alan had just told Greg had helped no end to calm him down because he visibly slumped. He thanked God again for Alan's phone side manner. When Greg turned to him and told him what Alan had said, he said a silent thank you in his head, threw his arm around Greg's shoulders, wincing a little when he did because he could feel the knobs on the ends of his shoulders sticking out and suggested they go get some pecan waffles at the Waffle House and go home and get some sleep. Of course, being Bobby, he called them pee-CAN waffles. He did it just to see Greg grin at him and his accent.

Bobby knew they weren't out of the woods yet and sure enough, about 2 hours after they had hit the sheets; he woke up to a shaking, moaning bed partner. Greg had rolled away from him in his struggles so Bobby rolled him back against him, wrapped his arms around him and started the back rubbing and the shushing and the general soothing routines and prayed to God they worked because he really didn't want Greg to lose all the good waffle's and sausage he'd consumed earlier. It took longer than usual to get him relaxed and back into a dreamless sleep. By that time, Greg was sprawled almost on top of him with his head on his pillow and his mouth firmly attached to his neck. Bobby could feel Greg's semi-erection pressing against his thigh even through two layers of sleep pants and his heart was beating against his chest. He started reciting the characteristics of a .357 magnum versus a .45 and reminded himself again how difficult it would be to explain the concept of a 'threesome' to his little girl.

"Dear God Above, please help us all to get through this" Bobby was thinking along with gun barrels and rifling marks "and I will not think about how good he feels and smells. I love Steve more than anything else in this world EXCEPT Chelsi but damn....I'm only human and I can't afford to be human right now. I have got to get this baby vampire off my neck. I swear he knows that's a hot spot for me. He goes for my neck every damn time he crawls on top of me. Oh Steve baby, please come home soon."

Greg might be resting peacefully but Bobby was having a little trouble getting back to sleep.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Alan returned to Nick's room after the call from Bobby, he found that Nick was starting to come out of his drug induced sleep. Alan watched him carefully, noting body movements, eye flickers anything that might give him a clue to what Nick would be like when he woke up.

Nick opened his eyes and looked at Alan. He seemed to be calm and accept the presence of him next to his bed but when he tried to raise his hand to wipe the sleep out of his eyes, he was stopped by the heavy, padded leather restraints and that's when all hell broke loose again.

Nick went from being almost comatose to flat out fighting and trying to rip the restraints loose. He was calling Alan names, cursing him and in general behaving like a crazy man. Fortunately Alan had been prepared and had two large security guards ready to subdue his irrational patient.

He had a syringe filled with a moderate dose of Diazepam. Diazepam was an old reliable treatment for anxiety disorders. When administered under a doctor's care and closely monitored, it was a valuable tool for situations like this one. Nick was about as anxious a patient as Alan had ever seen; in fact one could say he was about to spill over into blind rage. He managed to get the dose into Nick with a minimum of fighting and on top of the residual morphine in his system; the drug began to take effect quickly. Nick was still fighting the restraints but not nearly as violently and Alan took a chance and moved closer to the bed. He leaned over and took a good look at his patient.

Nick was sweating profusely but when Alan laid a hand on his chest, his skin was clammy and seemed colder than it should be. Alan was concerned. Diazepam or Valium as it was more commonally known could be contra indicated if the patient had chronic obstructive pulmonary disorder (COPD), or asthma or bronchitis. He was absolutely certain Nick's current physical condition was a reaction to the burst of energy he'd just expended but he was taking no chances.

He called the floor nurse who must have been waiting out side the door because he just barely got the bellow out of his mouth when she was by his side. "Jennie, can you still do a good stick?"

"Hey, I do your blood work don't I? Have I ever had to dig around in your arm for a vein?"

"No my beauty, you haven't. Go get a syringe and get me a sample of Nicky's blood. I need a CBC stat, tell the lab to rush and I mean like 2 hours ago."

Jennifer Lewis was in her late 30's with over ten years of experience as a surgical nurse, ER and now, Lead Day Nurse at this small but very prestigious and I might add, high-paying clinic. She was used to anything and everything so she didn't even raise an eyebrow. Just got a kit, took Nick's blood so efficiently he didn't even realize when she slid the needle in his vein. She took the blood, labeled the vial carefully and took it to the lab where she did the blood work herself.

She knew exactly what Alan was looking for and concentrated on the white sell count. It was well within the normal limits. She let out the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding and went to tell him the good news.

Things were calmer when she stuck her head in the door. Alan was sitting right up against the side of Nick's bed talking to him in a low, soft soothing tone. He looked up when she tapped the door jam and when she gave him a thumbs up sign, he blew her a kiss and went back to his patient.

"Nick, were are you?"

"How the hell should I know; nothing looks familiar."

Alan realized that of course it didn't, Nick was not in his usual room.

"Nick, you're still here in the clinic. We had to move you to another room that's all."

"Yeah sure you did. What did you do with the chair? Why am I in this bed?"

"You had a bad dream last night. You were fighting and very hostile. You smashed up your room and we had to sedate you and move you here while your room was restored."

"You're lying, you bastard. Where's Greg? Where's Warrick? I'm gonna kill that son of a bitch. How dare he hurt Greg like that? Where is Greg? Is he getting any medical attention? He needs surgery and pain medication right now. How long have I been out? Get these straps off me and let me out of here! I've got to get to Greg. There was so much blood...oh my God there was so much blood; it splashed all over my feet."

The last was said in a loud, despairing wail. Alan was busy cataloging information and trying to put it in order. It was obvious Nick had a dream. His friend Warrick had evidently done something really bad to Greg that involved a lot of blood and injury severe enough to warrant medical attention; possibly even surgery.

"Nick, tell me about the chair. Were you sitting in a chair?"

"Oh yeah, sure I was sitting in a chair. You lying hypocrite, you know damn well I was strapped into the god-damned thing just like I'm strapped to the bed now. You knew if I was loose, I'd stop him from hurting Greg. I thought you cared about Greg? Why aren't you with him, taking care of him? Where is he? Did you take your turn with too? You better plan on killing me or keeping me strapped down here for the rest of my life because if I ever get loose, I'll kill you. I swear I'll kill you if you've touched one hair on his head."

Nick's furious ravings had filled in a lot of the blank spots for Alan and he was pretty sure he knew what he was dealing with now. He kept his voice low but very firm and said, "Nick, stop yelling and cursing. You've had a bad dream; a very bad dream but it's over and you are going to tell me all about it and we will make it go away. Do you understand me?"

Nick was still raving and ranting, not too strongly though; he had a snoot full of pharmaceuticals in him and it was like wading through very cold, very thick honey. He just couldn't get anything moving right.

"Nick, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me."

Nick slowly opened his eyes and squinted until the blurry blob in front of him stopped moving and gradually turned into Alan's worried face. He frowned a little. He didn't remember Alan being there before. He was sure it was just him in the chair and Greg leaning over him with his hands resting on his thighs and Warrick behind him. He let out a pitiful cry when he remembered what Warrick had done to his love and the scream Greg had let out and most of all, he remembered the hot blood splashing on his feet. He started thrashing his legs as much as he could with his ankles strapped down. He wanted to see if Greg's blood was still caked all over his feet.

Alan noticed Nick's attention to his feet and he asked him what he was doing. When Nick told him, Alan realized he had a place to start to convince Nick he really was safe in the clinic and not still trapped in his dream.

"Nick, Nick...look at me. Look at my face. You are not dreaming. I'm going to undo your left ankle and pull the blankets back so you can see there is no blood. Do you hear me? Nod your head if you do."

Nick nodded his head yes. He watched Alan get up and stiffly move around the bed to his other side. He unbuckled the heavy, padded leather restraint and carefully removed it from Nick's ankle. Then he pulled the blanked up and off Nick's foot so he could see his clean, blood free foot and ankle.

Nick frowned. He was sure he hadn't had a bath or shower. No, he still had on the clothes he'd put on to go to bed which meant the bottoms of his pants should have been drenched and stiff with blood. He looked up at Alan and asked him to take the right strap off and let him see that foot also. Alan moved around the bed and repeated his actions on the right restraint. Then he smoothing Nick's blanket back in place and stepped up to the head of the bed. He took Nicks blanket and pulled it all the way down to the bottom where Nick could pull both feet out and look at them carefully. There was no blood anywhere; not on his feet, the sheets or his sleep pants.

He looked up at Alan, his confusion was obvious. "It was just a dream? It didn't happen?"

"No Nick, it was just a dream. Now, if I take the restraints off your arms am I going to have to fight for my life?"

Nick was confused, ashamed and miserable. His eyes dropped and he said in a low, sad voice, "No, I'll be good."

Alan let out a big sigh and unfastened Nick's arms. He carefully checked his wrists to make sure he hadn't broken the skin during his attempts to get loose but was happy to see some angry red marks and nothing more. He rubbed Nick's arms and hands and asked him if he would like to go back to his own room. Nick said 'yes please, he would like some familiar surroundings'. Alan told the security guards to go get him a wheel chair and then they could return to their office. Nick was going to fuss about the chair until he sat up on the edge of the bed and had to grab hold of Alan because the room was dipping and whirling around him.

"Hand on there cowboy, morphine with a Valium chaser is pretty strong medicine even for a big guy like you."

Nick closed his eyes and let his head rest on Alan's shoulder. "Wow, you can say that again. Talk about a cheap drunk and I don't even remember the party."

"Well you're gonna remember the party and the dream and we're going to get it all out in the open before this day is through."

Nick sighed and said, "Are you sure? I don't think I can stand to go through that again and I sure don't know if I can talk about it."

Alan said, "Now why do you think I went to all the trouble to get you drugged up? You can't resist me and my winning ways; not to mention my interrogation techniques. Seriously Nick, it's pretty obvious this is going to be hard for you and you will be grateful for the bumper the drugs give you. We're going back to your room. Jenny is going to give you a sponge bath because you're too dizzy to get in the shower and after you get comfortable in your own bed, we're going to have a nice breakfast and then we're going to work the rest of the day."

Nick was still leaning on Alan with his eyes closed but he opened them just a little and started to say something to him and that's when he noticed the ugly swelling and impressive bruise on his jaw. "What the hell happened to you? It looks like you're going to be having oatmeal or a smoothie for breakfast."

"Nicky my boy, YOU happened to me."

"Oh please don't tell me I did that."

"Oh yeah, you did this and Bruce has a split lit and a shiner and Larry has a split lip and one tooth we had to replace and suture back in his gum and Charles has 23 stitches in his upper arm."

It was a good thing that Alan was supporting Nick with an arm around his shoulders because he literally would have fallen back. As it was he sagged against the supporting arm and let out a small groan and said, "Oh please tell me you're making that up. Oh shit, you're not. I remember fighting but I didn't know who. I thought it was part of the dream. It was real?"

"Yes it damn sure was real and every time I try to put my teeth together or touch my face without thinking about it I really want to smack you one."

Nick looked up at him and said very seriously, "Then wait till all the drugs wear off because it ought to hurt me as much as it's hurting you and it won't right now."

"No it won't and damn it all, by that time, I won't be mad enough at you to tear your head off the way I'd like to right now.

If Nick had any doubts that he was really awake he lost them then because he figured if Alan was a part of the horrible dream he'd had last night, he would still be sweet talking him until he could get his hands on Greg.

He was about to ask him where Greg was when his chair arrived and his morning officially started.

Alan's memories of El Mozote are true. I took a lot of his words from this <a href="">article</a> The story the rebel tells him is not part of the article but bits and pieces I found during research on torture in 3rd world countries.

Nick looked around his room and was really surprised at how happy he was to be back in a familiar place. Alan had pushed him into his room and told him to stay put. He was sending someone in to help him with a shower, shave and clean sleep gear. He had some catch-up calls he needed to clear with Marie and then they would have breakfast together.

Nick had intended to take care of his personal grooming by himself but was surprised to find he was really woozy when he tried to stand up. What ever Alan had injected into him when he woke up was powerful stuff in an upright position; sitting or lying down was fine. He decided there was a time to be stubborn and a time to sit back and accept a little help; this was definitely the latter.

He was glad he was sitting down when his door opened and Charles walked in, followed by one of the new orderlies they were training. Charles looked horrible; he had bruises all over his face, his right arm was bandaged from the armpit clear down to his elbow and he had it in a sling.

Nick's mouth fell open in shock. "Oh my God, did I do that to you?"

"It's quite all right Nick; you were asleep and caught in the throes of a terrible nightmare. I know you would never hurt me if you were awake and aware of what you were doing. Now, I can't help you myself because I can't get my stitches wet but this is a perfect opportunity to assist you and train Russell at the same time."

It took longer with three of them in the bathroom but even Nick was impressed with the competent way Charles oversaw the young man. They managed to remove his clothing with no embarrassment to him at all. The trick was to remove everything from the waist up and then drape a towel across his groin area while removing his lower garments. Charles manipulated that towel like a professional matador draping his cape across the bull's horns. Nick was maneuvered into the shower chair so skillfully, the towel never slipped nor even shifted.

Russell shampooed his hair then washed his upper body and his legs from the thighs down. Then after carefully rinsing everything off, he handed Nick the body sponge and he and Charles casually turned away and laid out his shaving equipment while Nick washed his groin. He took the hand attachment and carefully rinsed himself then told the two men he was ready to get out. Russell moved a little closer to Nick and laid a strong arm across his chest letting Nick use it as a lever to get to his feet. He was enveloped in a large warm towel and carefully moved over to the waiting wheel chair. He was rolled back into his room, moved into the comfortable easy chair where Russell gave him a really professional shave. Then he was dressed, again with no uncomfortable exposure. When Charles handed him the menu to select his breakfast, he was feeling human again at least until he realized the menu was in Charles left hand because the right one was too weak to hold a simple cardboard menu.

He marked his selections, handed the menu to Russell, thanked him and told him either he was a natural or Charles was a 'killer' trainer. Russell gave him a blinding smile and said, "My uncle has been my teacher since I lost my dad when I was ten. I'm going to be a doctor and Uncle Charles figures this will be good training in what it's like from the patient's perspective." Nick just laughed out loud and said, "It figures. I should have known when you did everything exactly the way he does. You're going to be a great doctor and I'll bet your bedside manner will be something to write home about."

They were all laughing when Alan tapped on the door and walked into the room.

* * * * * * * * * *

Breakfast was over, dishes removed and both men were sitting comfortably across from each other. Alan asked Nick if he was ready to talk about the night before.

I'm sure by now, you've all realized that Alan can be a real bastard when he wants to be. He sent Charles in to care for Nick on purpose. He knew seeing what he had done to him would automatically put Nick at a disadvantage and he was going to use it. Alan was determined to get to the bottom of Nick's rages and abrupt changes in personality. I think I mentioned once before that Alan didn't have a psychic bone in his body BUT he did have an extra sense where some of his patients were concerned. Not all of them but some and Nick Stokes was setting off that warning signal and had it blaring in his head like a fire alarm. He knew, somewhere in that dream, were clues to Nick's problems. Like all good hunters, when Alan picked up the scent, he had to follow it to the end.

"By the way, what do you think of Russell?"

"I think he's going to be a top notch doctor and a tribute to his Uncle Charles."

"Yeah, we all feel the same way. He's been a pet of the clinic ever since Charles started working with us. Charles should have been a doctor too but when his brother was killed, he gave up his dreams for his nephew. It's been our gain. He came to us because we gave him any hours he needed so he could always be there when Russell needed him. Russ practically grew up here in the clinic. He was so petted and pampered by the patients and staff, the only thing keeping him from turning into the worlds worst spoiled brat was his own sweet disposition."

"Now, start with the hour before you went to sleep. Tell me everything you did."

Nick thought for a minute then told him about talking to his folks and then Bobby and Steve. By now he had the routine down and he knew that Alan wanted every single detail that seemed odd or unusual so he mentioned the strange feeling he'd had that they didn't seem to be happy to hear from him but he said, by the end of the conversation everything was same old, same old. He went through his conversation with Catherine. When he started talking about calling Greg, he seemed hesitant for the first time. He told him how they had started out joking but he got too personal and Greg told him he didn't want to talk about them without Alan there as moderator.

He said Greg seemed to be excited about them doing the couple sessions and then they talked about Rob and he told Greg Rob was coming to see him and how good he was with Brady.....

Nick stopped talking. Alan waited then asked, "What happened then?"

"Greg lied to me. I asked him if he was coming to see me today and he said he couldn't, he had a routine dental checkup."

"What makes you think Greg was lying?"

"Greg had his six month checkup just before we broke up but even without that, I can always tell when he's lying to me. There's just something about the way his voice hesitates and if he'd been here, he wouldn't look me in the eyes. I knew he wasn't looking at the phone while he was talking."

"Why do you think he was lying; I mean, what was his reason?"

"I don't know. Bobby says he's not seeing anyone new. With this teen gang war situation, no one has time for a personal life. According to Bobby and Steve, the only person Greg is seeing outside of work is them and his new friend Annabelle; but what if he was lying because he just doesn't want to spend time with me anymore. Alan, what if he's afraid of me or is disgusted by what he saw when they took me out of that club. I don't know if I could stand either of those things. I know I can live with him deciding he doesn't want to be with me anymore because he doesn't love me. That's something that could happen to anyone but I don't think I could live if I saw fear or disgust in his eyes when he looks at me. Maybe that's why he won't come see me. He knows he couldn't hide it from me."

Alan could see the pain on Nick's face and he could hear it in his voice. He did not want Nick to slip into a depression again; he needed him focused on last night.

"What did you do when he told you he couldn't come? Did you get angry with him? Did you yell at him or call him names?

"God no! I told him I hoped I'd see him the next day and we hung up. I prayed like I do every night that he won't find someone new until I have a chance to tell him how sorry I am for everything that did and didn't happen between us."

Alan filed the 'didn't happen' remark away for future reference. "Alright, let's continue. Was that the last call of the night?"

"Yes, I took a couple of Tylenol; I'd added 5 lbs to my weights and I was feeling it, turned out the lights and went to sleep."

"Do you have any idea when the dream started?"

"It seemed like it was as soon as I closed my eyes but I never can figure time in a dream. It went on forever. It was like being tortured for a lifetime and then being told that was just the first 5 minutes of eternity and that's the way it was going to be forever."

Alan knew the next part was not going to be easy for either of them. "Nick, I want you to start your breathing; just like we've practiced. Relax and take a deep breath in through your nose filling your lungs completely from the bottom up."

Nick was so used to the routine by now; it was almost like hypnosis. He automatically relaxed his posture, letting his hands lay loosely on the chair arms. He began taking deep breaths, deliberately pushing his stomach out so he could get as much air in as possible. When his lungs were so full they almost ached, he held his breath for a count of 10 then exhaled through his mouth pushing the air out by sucking in his stomach. He did this for 10 breaths and then began to breath easily but deeper than he normally did.

"Now; you have a picture inside your head. You have a projector that will show that picture on the inside of your eyelids. You are in complete control at all times. You control the projector. You control the starting and the stopping of the picture. It's not a pleasant picture but it can't hurt you because you control it. When you are ready, start the projector and tell me everything you see. If you see something that disturbs you, you can stop the projector for a few seconds or you can slow it down but you are going to play the picture through to the end and describe every single frame to me."

Nick sat there for almost a minute; then began talking in a slow, dreamy voice.

* * * * * * * * * *

A long time later, he stopped talking and just sat, waiting for Alan to either tell him he could turn off the projector or ask him to rerun part of the film for him. He was used to this by now. Sometimes he wondered at Alan's choice of entertainment. He didn't always, let's face it, he had not really enjoyed any of the pictures Alan wanted to see but he always ran them for him and reported every frame completely. Alan always thanked him and praised him for his eye for detail. He tried to learn from any new experience and he was pretty sure this was going to help him investigate a crime scene if/when he ever got to go back to work again. He had learned to see so much by having to describe everything to another party.

Alan knew Nick was sitting there waiting for him to release him from his semi-hypnotized state. He knew it but he was trying to assimilate what Nick had just told him. The dream was much worse than he had imagined and the thing that worried him the most was Nick's description of the barbs that seemed to be coming out of Warrick's penis just before he violated Greg. Logic told him that was from the experience at the club. Alan had not seen that instrument himself but Steve had described it in detail and it awoke memories that Alan never wanted to relive.

* * * * * * * * * *

When he was twenty-six, he was a starry-eyed dreamer out to change the world. He was for justice for every man and the truth will always prevail. He got the chance of a lifetime; a job as assistant to a photojournalist named Susan Meiselas. Susan was going to EL MOZOTE, El Salvadore with Raymond Bonner, a reporter for the Washington Post. They were investigating rumors of a grisly massacre.

It was shortly before Christmas in 1981 that soldiers from the elite American-trained Atlacatl Battalion conducted a search-and-destroy operation around El Mozote. A few days after they entered the area, the guerrillas' clandestine radio station began to broadcast reports of a massacre of civilians in the area. Reporters started pushing the guerrillas, officially called the Farabundo Marti National Liberation Front, for proof.

In early January of 1982, Bonner and Meiselas were given permission to go with a rebel force on a behind-the-lines tour of the area. "There isn't a reporter in El Salvador who doesn't want to be where we are right now," Bonner said during lunch just before they set off on a long walk through Morazan province, a guerrilla stronghold.

Even now, after all these years, Alan's memory can take him back to the hot, humid jungle-like place and time where the rose-colored glasses were forcibly removed from his eyes. He remembered fording a river, carrying Susan's camera's in a water-proof box on top of his head. She told him if a crocodile tried to eat him, he was to make sure he threw the box hard enough to land on the bank. He didn't think she was kidding. The moon was full and so beautiful. Nothing bad could happen under a moon like that.

They arrived at El Mozote; a haunted village. Nothing moved. There was a plaza with a number of ruined, burned out homes. There was total silence. The scene was so horrible, even the ghosts were quiet. In the ruins were charred skulls and bones of dozens of bodies. In what had once been a white-washed church he saw countless bits of bones -- skulls, rib cages, femurs, a spinal column -- poking out of the rubble. There were more bodies along the trail leading into the village and at the edge of a nearby cornfield, including bodies of women and children.

When Bonner talked with the local peasants, the numbers reported were staggering. They gave the reporter a list of 733 names, mostly children, women, and old people, who they said had been murdered by government soldiers. The lead paragraph of Bonner's January 27 article read: "From interviews with people who live in this small mountain village and surrounding hamlets, it is clear that a massacre of major proportions occurred here last month," and the piece went on to cite a great deal of circumstantial evidence tying the killings to the army.

Alan had been a great favorite with the rebel forces who were serving as their guides. He was American, young and very impressionable. They took great delight in teaching the young gringo the facts of life in a country ripped apart by civil war.

One night the soldiers were getting totally bombed on the local brew, Alan couldn't even pronounce what they called it but he was sure they could use it to power their vehicles if they ever ran out of gas. In fact, he was pretty sure they would be better off it they drank the gas and poured the 'brew' in the trucks and jeeps.

They weren't quite as hardened as they tried to make out. All of them had felt the ghosts of El Mozote but as men will do, they talked loud and tried to outdo each other telling horror stories to prove they weren't affected by the smells and sights of death.

One of the older men, who had some of the strangest scars on his face Alan had ever seen, suddenly started talking. His voice was so soft at first; they all had to be quiet to hear him. He talked about being taken prisoner by the enemy. An enemy who had been trained by Americans who were carefully taught the art of torture by the CIA and graduates of "The School of Americas" in Benning, Georgia.

Alan never forgot what that soft spoken man said that horrible night that marked the end of his innocence. He talked about electrodes fastened to heavy duty commercial batteries and then inserted into prisoner's rectums or fastened to their testicles. The women were not spared. For them, the wires were inserted in their vaginas or attached to their nipples. The soldier's loved to get a pregnant woman. Alan could never bring himself to remember the description of the results of that exercise in depravity.

The man talked about the 'pene de muerte'. The phrase roughly translates to 'death penis'. It was almost beautiful if you didn't know what it was used for. It was carved out of a dark, heavy wood into the replica of a man's penis except the man would have had to be a giant from the days of the Titans or Goliath from the bible. The size alone would tear either a vagina or a rectum badly upon insertion but the 'pene de muerte' was even deadlier than it appeared at first glance. There was a tiny button or switch on the end of the instrument. The insertion was usually painful enough to cause unconsciousness but the torturers were considerate people. They would carefully revive the victim promising they would remove the object if only the prisoner would simply tell them what they wanted to know. Very few people kept quiet after than. When they had gotten what they wanted, they told the prisoner they were going to remove the object. They pressed the button and steel barbs sprung out of the 'pene' ripping and tearing the tender flesh as the disgusting thing was removed. Not many people lived to talk about their experience.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alan realized Nick was still waiting for him to speak. He tried to get the memories out of his head and concentrate on the young man waiting quietly for him. This one memory was the reason why Alan had put up with so much from Nick. When Bobby called him that night, he had no idea what was waiting for him. When he saw Nick's torn, bleeding rectum he had a horrible feeling he knew what had been done and after talking with Steve, he realized his past had reached out and reminded him that he could put it behind him, but it would never go away.

When ever he got angry with Nick or disgusted or just plain sick of trying to cope with his mood and personality changes he remembered Steve trying to tell him about looking for the button to keep the barbs inside the thing stuck in Nick. Steve was crying, this big, strong 'take on the world' man broke down and cried before he finished. Then he went to the bathroom and threw up.

Alan would take every single piece of shit Nick could hand out as long as there was the slightest chance of helping him. The only thing Alan kept close to him from his experience all those years ago was the knowledge that it didn't make any difference at all if you restored a body and left the mind so broken it could not function. He would not let Nick stay broken. He was going to fix him if it killed both of them.

He took a deep breath and said, "That was excellent work as usual Nick. You make me feel like I'm right there in the room. Please turn off the projector and lets' talk about the movie."

That was Nick's signal to open his eyes and start working with Alan again. He waited for Alan's first question.

"I didn't realize Warrick was gay. Why have you never mentioned it before?"

"What makes you think Warrick's gay? As far as I know, he's as straight as a.....well he's as straight as he thinks I am; which is pretty damn straight."

"If Warrick is not gay, why was he having sex with Greg in your dream? Why wasn't it Rob or even Bobby or Steve? Why did you conjure up a straight man to fuck your lover?"

Nick looked confused. He sat there thinking; why the heck had he put Warrick in the dream? By now, he realized that most of his disturbing dreams had connections to things that were actually going on in his real life. There had to be some reason but he just couldn't think of one. He looked up at Alan and said, "I don't know. You're going to have to help me with this one."

They began their back and forth; a technique they had developed at the start of Nick's therapy when he was still fighting Alan every step of the way. Alan would ask him questions and he would answer but always with an evasion or a half truth. After several months, he began to realize the only thing he was doing was prolonging his stay at the clinic. If he wanted to get out of the place and back to his life, he needed to work with this man until his rage and his confusion were controllable. Now they used the technique for times like these when Nick could not make a connection. Alan asked him random questions about Warrick; had they every flirted the way he did with Greg? No. Had he ever had any sexual dreams about Warrick? Good God NO. The questions continued with the only 'yes' answer coming when Alan asked him how he knew what Warrick looked like nude. When Nick told him about the showers at work and the one's at the gym, he asked him if he enjoyed looking at his friends naked body.

Nick said, yes he did but not in a sexual way. Warrick was a very handsome man and his build combined with his chocolate mocha skin and his green eyes made him a pleasure to look at. "It's kinda like those statues you see in museums, you know? Looking at 'Rick is kinda like that. He's always been my back-up and I'm his. When I look at him, with or without clothes, I feel safe because I know if he's there, he's looking out for me."

Alan changed directions and asked about the last conversation he'd had with Warrick. What did they talk about? Was there any tension between them? Nick shifted a little; just the barest movement and Alan was on it like a snake on a rat.

"What have you remembered Nick? What happened during your conversation with your friend?"

"'Rick's gotten a divorce. He said he wished I was there, he could use some support. I felt so bad for him but I was a little mad too. He married this woman Tina at a drive through wedding chapel after I was kidnapped and buried. He sure as hell didn't need my support then. Hell he didn't even tell us; he waited until Catherine noticed his ring. But now he needs me to be there for him?"

HUM...there's a lot of unresolved anger there. I wonder if Nick really does have feelings for Warrick and felt betrayed by the wedding. But still, that wouldn't be a reason for him to put him in a dream with his lover. He'd be more likely to dream about him and 'Rick together than 'Rick and Greg. Okay, lets dig a little deeper.

"Was there anything else? That doesn't seem to fit you picking him to violate your lover. What happened next?"

"I told him I was sorry I wasn't there for him. I was mad but still, we've been through too damn much together to not support each other now. He said the only good thing that came out of me being gone was he and Greg had been getting to be friends."

Alan almost quivered. HOT DAMN now we're getting somewhere!!!

"Did that upset you?"

"No, not that but then he said Greg could never completely take my place because Greg just doesn't like sports the way we do but he was fun to be with and he played a mean video game."

Suddenly Nick fell silent, just staring at Alan, his eyes getting bigger and bigger.

"What Nick? What have you remembered?"

"He said the home cooked meals were just the frosting on the cake."

"What's wrong with that?" Alan was remembering the last dinner he'd eaten in Greg's beautifully decorated apartment. Bobby and Steve, Greg and Annabelle, Rob and Warrick and he and Marie had been the dinner guests and Greg had fed them until they were laughing about having to hire someone to roll them down to their cars.

"Greg cooking? Give me a break, the kid can just barely boil water for those freaking noodles he eats all the time and anyone trying to eat anything in that shit-hole he calls home would probably get ptomaine."

Alan realized for the very first time that Greg had never told Nick about his adventures in decorating or the cooking lessons Annabelle had been giving him. He didn't know about Mr. Emerson and the table and mirror that started Greg on his life long journey of self-improvement. Well, well, well! Wasn't that special?

"You found this statement disturbing Nick?"

"It wasn't disturbing. It was like Greg telling me he was going to the dentist. It was a god-damned lie. Why would he lie to me like that? What good would it do him? It wasn't a half-truth or an evasion; it was a fucking lie. The son-of-a-bitch! I'm away trying to take care of my family and that bastard is fucking my boy-friend and of course Greg would just love that. That big, black dick would make him cream his drawers. GOD DAMN THEM!"

Alan looked at the man sitting across from him and felt like he should ask for an introduction. This was not his patient. This was the contemptuous, sarcastic, cruel bastard who'd laughed at pulling the wool over his co-workers eyes, the man who'd told Greg he wouldn't get involved with him on a one-night-stand basis and then kept him dangling on a string having to wait for him to let him in the house he called 'theirs'. This was the son-of-a-bitch who raped the young man Alan had become so fond of. Finally, here he was and Alan was ready for him. What was it Bobby always said? Oh yeah, "Hello Mr. Stokes. Let's you and me have a come-to-Jesus-meeting. Right now!"

Alan looked at the man sitting across from him and felt like he should ask for an introduction. This was not his patient. This was the contemptuous, sarcastic, cruel bastard who'd laughed at pulling the wool over his co-workers eyes, the man who'd told Greg he wouldn't get involved with him on a one-night-stand basis and then kept him dangling on a string having to wait for him to let him in the house he called 'theirs'. This was the son-of-a-bitch who raped the young man Alan had become so fond of. Finally, here he was and Alan was ready for him. What was it Bobby always said? Oh yeah, "Hello Mr. Stokes. Let's you and me have a come-to-Jesus-meeting. Right now!"

* * * * * * * * * *

Nick had gotten up in his rage and started pacing around the room. Alan was pleased to see he was a little unsteady on his feet which meant he was still slightly under the influence of the medications he'd been given.

"Nick, please sit back down. We aren't even close to being through."

"What else do you need? I dreamed the damn dream because my best friend and so-called boyfriend are fucking each other's brains out while I'm stuck here in the loony bin." Nick was still pacing but having to put a hand up to keep himself off the walls.

Alan knew he needed to get his patient to calm down and relax a little and he did not want to have to give him any more medication. "Nick, all we've explained is why Warrick was in your dream. There are many other elements we need to explore. I want you to sit down and take a few deep breaths to compose yourself and let's continue our session."

Nick stopped pacing and turned around and glared at Alan. "I don't wanna sit down. I'm tired of being cooped up in here. I wanna go outside and do something."

Now what? He sounds like a spoiled kid not a grown man. What is this guy up to now? Okay Nicky baby, you want to act like a kid, I'll treat you like a kid.

"Nick, come back here and sit down right now. We are not through and you are not going outside until we complete our work."

Nick actually pouted a little; slouched over to his chair and just slumped down in the chair. He threw a leg across one of the chair arms, let out a big, dramatic sigh, crossed his arms over his chest and just glared at his doctor.

"Sit up straight Nick; put your hands on the chair arms and take 5 deep cleansing, relaxing breaths." Nick just sat there glaring and pouting.

Alan stayed very calm, looked at Nick and said in a very stern voice, "Nick, you will do as you're told NOW." Nick gave another deep sigh, slowly sat up, assumed the position and started his breathing exercises but it was obvious he was not paying any attention to his form. Alan leaned over and put his hand on his arm and shook him gently. "You can pout all you want but you will mind me right now. Do you understand?"

Nick looked at him for a second or two, huffed a little and said, "Okay." He sat up and began to breathe properly.

Alan sat back and tried to figure out what had just happened. He'd seen sad, mad, scared, depressed and defiant. He had never seen this latest....what ever the hell it had been. One minute his patient was furious, cursing and generally being a bad ass and then he'd seemed to devolve into some sort of rotten kid. He wondered what he would be dealing with when Nick opened his eyes.

* * * * * * * * * *

Bobby was on the spot. He'd just been called back in but Greg was sleeping so soundly, he'd not even heard the cell phone. He was just getting ready to wake him up when he heard the front door open. He walked out of the bedroom and saw Steve walking down the hall towards him. He met him halfway with a kiss that left both of them panting for breath.

"What are you doing back home, hon?"

"Believe it or not, we got a bomb threat at the office and since everyone had to leave the building anyway, TPTB decided to send everyone home and get the place exterminated. Talk about multi-tasking. I decided to see if I couldn't spend some quality time in bed with two hot guys for a change. What are you doing up anyway?"

Bobby just shook his head and softly sang to his lover, "If it weren't for bad luck, we'd have no luck at all."

Steve groaned softly, "When you start singing Hee Haw tunes to me, I know I'm not gonna like what's coming. What's happened?"

Bobby quickly caught him up and told him with luck, he'd only have to be gone for an hour or two. The ATF agents had come to pick up the latest group of guns he'd tested and no-one knew which ones they were supposed to take. He told him to crawl in with Greg just in case and gave him a condensed version of their morning. He did tell him, Greg had one bad incident but he'd gotten him calmed down. He did NOT tell him about the 'baby vamp attack'. Bobby wasn't keeping secrets from his long time partner; he just wanted to see if Greg snuggled up to Steve the way he did him.

Bobby left and Steve thought about whether he wanted to grab a quick nap with Greg or just set up and read. He let out a yawn that almost made his jaw crack and thought to himself, well that settles that.

He crawled into bed and got settled. He let out a deep sigh and rolled over on his back and closed his eyes. A few minutes later, his eyes flew wide open when a warm, nice smelling body landed on top of him. Greg snuggled and nestled against him until he was lying across his chest with his head tucked firmly under his chin. Steve was staring at the ceiling trying to figure out what the heck he was supposed to do now when he felt lips settle against his neck and his human blanket let out a small, contented sigh.

Bobby, I swear I am gonna kill you when you get home. You knew he was gonna do this and you didn't warn me. Your ass is gonna pay for this one baby!

When Bobby came back into the bedroom almost two hours later, he took one look at his spouse covered in a Greg skin and had to leave the room quickly so he could laugh his ass off.

* * * * * * * * * *

Back at the clinic, Alan was trying to figure out who he was going to be talking to in a few seconds. He sat quietly and waited as Nick completed his last breath and then opened his eyes and looked at him. He seemed to be his normal self.

"Nick, you told me that Warrick bent his head and began to suck on Greg's throat. When you described those frames to me, you were upset, your voice was shaking and I could hear pain in your tone. What made you so upset?"

"He tilted his head to one side, sort of baring his throat to him."

"And why did that upset you?"

"The first night we were together, when I finally told him how I felt about him, I held him in my arms and bent to kiss his throat. My mouth was right over his pulse point and I could feel his heart beat. I could feel his blood pulsing just under the skin. I could have bit down and punctured his jugular vein. He should have been guarding himself against me but he tilted his head and just offered his life's blood to me. It was the most erotic moment I've ever shared with anyone. Now he was doing it with Warrick. He was offering his throat to someone else. But, I cared for him and I didn't take his blood. Warrick only wanted his body and he bit him and the blood started to flow. Do you know how many nights I held him and couldn't get close enough to him? God I was inside his body, balls deep and it still wasn't close enough. There were so many times when I thought, if I bite,if I taste his blood, I will have his life force. He will be inside me and part of me and maybe then this ache for him will be eased. I've got to get over him. I've got to stop wanting him the way I do. I just can't do this anymore."

Nick was getting agitated again and Alan began to speak to him in a soft, calm voice. "Nick, remember this was not real. This was a dream, a bad, upsetting dream but it was not real. It did not happen. You have identified two important components of the dream. We know why Warrick was in the dream and why he bit Greg."

"We do? You do maybe but I don't know where that came from."

"You just got through telling me you have thought about biting Greg from the moment you two got together. But you knew that would not be an acceptable act so you had someone else act out your fantasy in your dream."

Nick leaned forward and put his head in his hands. "If you say so Doc."

"You said Warrick told Greg to walk over to the chair; the chair you were sitting in and bend over. But he didn't seem to see you sitting there and he put his hands on your thighs. Is that correct?"

"Yeah that's what happened. He was bent over so far, his face was practically in my crotch. I could see over his back and I could see Warrick start to enter him."

"How did you know he hadn't used any lube, Nick?"

"I didn't see any and his cock wasn't shiny; neither were his hands."

"Then you said just as he penetrated Greg, you saw barbs spring out of his penis."

"Yeah, I screamed as loud as I could but he rammed himself inside him and Greg let out this horrible scream of pain and then I felt his blood splash down on my feet and legs."

Alan knew they were almost through and Nick would either break and admit what he had done or he would retreat completely.

"Warrick started laughing and he said, Uh, what was it he said...."

Nick looked up at Alan with the saddest expression on his face and said, "He said, 'So, you think you're the only one who gets to rape him? Once you treated him like that you made him fair game for anyone else who wants a nice bloody piece of ass.'"

"Why did he say that Nick? Why did he think you 'got to rape' Greg? Was that something else you thought about doing when you two were together?

"I don't know why he said that. It was a dream; a fucking, sick dream. Why would I have to rape Greg? We were living together."

"Were you Nick? Were you really living together? How long did it take Greg to get all his stuff out of your place when you two broke up? How many trips did he make?"

"He didn't...I packed his stuff for him."

"What did you pack Nick? You two were together for five months. Greg strikes me as a sort of pack rat. He must have had tons of stuff at your place. What did you pack for him? Did you ever think about raping Greg? Why did Warrick say that?"

"I don't know. Shut up, Shut up. He didn't have hardly anything at my place. I don't know why Warrick said that. Shut up. Stop asking the same thing over and over." Nick was extremely upset now. He was up walking rapidly back and forth in his room.

Alan also got up and began to advance on Nick. They were interrupting each other. Alan with his questions and Nick with his evasions.

"Warrick had to have some reason for saying that Nick, dream or no dream. Every thing else that happened had a basis in fact or fantasy. So tell me Nick, did you rape Greg or did you just want to? Which was it big man? You've got at least 25 pounds on him and I've seen you lift weights. Did you like hurting him? DID YOU RAPE A SWEET MAN WHO JUST WANTED TO LOVE YOU?"

Nick let out a wail that made the hair stand up on Alan's arms. He backed away from him until his back hit the wall and he slid down the wall. He was shaking his head back and forth and trying to keep Alan away from him. Suddenly, he went completely still. He looked up at Alan with such hate in his eyes that Alan instinctively backed up.

"You fucking bastard. You have no idea what you're talking about. You with your degrees and all your fancy letters hanging on your walls. Men can't be raped. Only women can be raped. Men just want to stick their dicks in something warm and wet. But it's never rape. It doesn't happen. If I tried to tell someone I was raped, no one would believe me. Because boys don't get raped. They're always trying to get a peek, to look at something they shouldn't and look how young they can start. A guy can get punished for doing something bad. You don't bring food in the living room and you don't spill it all over the carpet and then talk back when you're told to go to your room. You get what you deserve and you deserve punishment but it's not rape. How can anyone say it's rape? Look at that; you're so bad, even when you're punished you act like a guy and your pee-pee gets big and stuff comes out of it."

Nick ran out of breath at that point and just sat there on the floor mumbling to himself. He had his arms wrapped around his legs and was pulled into a tight ball. He kept saying, "I can't tell. Guys don't get raped. It's all my fault and everyone will know what a sex-freak I am. A freaking sex nut."

Alan stumbled backward until his legs hit his chair and he collapsed. Of all the things he thought would come out, this wasn't it. He'd had an idea way in the back of his mind that something had happened to Nick when he was a child. He thought maybe he'd experimented with a playmate and got caught. He never expected this. He needed to get somewhere quiet and try to make sense of the word vomit Nick had just spewed out. Thank God, he'd switched on the small tape recorder he kept in his Day-Timer. He knew he needed to listen carefully not only to the words but also to the voice saying those words. But for right now, he had a patient in extreme distress and he needed to take care of him.

"Nick, Nicky. Come on son, you need to get up and let's take a nice warm bath and get you in bed. You've had a very busy day and you need your sleep." Alan reverted back to the firm, adult voice; mainly because the end of Nick's breakdown had sounded like the little kid he'd met before. Only this little kid was scared and hurting, not bratty.

"Come on little man. I'm gonna come over there and help you up now, Okay?"

Nick looked up at him and said softly, "Are you mad at me?"

"Oh Nicky, why would I be made at a good boy like you? Come on now, you need a bath and then some sleep. Let me help you up."

Alan walked over and bent down and put his hands out. Nick looked at him for a second and then slowly raised his hands and put them in his. "That's my good boy. Come on now. Let's go to the bathroom and I'll run your bath. You're tired aren't you?"

"Yes sir, but I can take my own bath."

"Of course you can my boy, but I'll just get the tub ready for you."

Alan helped Nick climb to his feet and led him over to his chair. He sat him down in the chair and went into the bathroom and started filling the whirlpool tub with warm water. He came out and saw that Nick was sitting quietly in his chair. He was dazed and Alan knew his medical cocktail, followed by his abrupt emotional storm was playing havoc with his responses. He also knew that right now, the best medicine for his suffering patient was some sound sleep.

He got clean sleep pants and a t-shirt out and took them into the bathroom. He saw the tub was full, turned off the water and started the jets. He went back out and gently put his hand on Nick's shoulder. He knew he was right about Nick's current mental and emotional state when Nick didn't even jump. "Come on Nicky, the tub is just right. Let me help you into the bath."

He led the completely compliant man into the bathroom and told him to take his clothes off and get into the tub. Nick just looked at him. For a number of reason's, personal and professional, Alan could not remove Nick's clothes but he realized Nick was unable to care for himself right then. He went over to the wall, pressed the intercom button. He got an almost immediate response. "If Charles is still here please ask him to come to Mr. Beuhler's room and bring Russell."

The voice coming from the wall had almost no distortion. "Dr. Perkins, this is Russell; I made Uncle Charles go home a couple of hours ago. His arm was hurting pretty bad."

"Can you handle Nick by yourself Russell?"

"I sure can. I'll be right there."

True to his word, Russell tapped on the door less than three minutes later. He came to the bathroom and asked what he could do. Alan told him he needed Nick to relax for at least ten minutes in the whirlpool but Nick did not seem to be able to remove his clothes and he was afraid for him to stay in the tub. Russell just smiled, walked over to Nick and said, "Hi Nicky, do you want me to help you with your bath again?"

Nick looked up at the familiar voice and nodded. Russell had him undressed and shielded with the towel and in the tub in minutes. He fastened the reclining pillow against the back of the tub and gently pushed on Nick's shoulder until he lay back against the soft wet pillow. Alan watched a master at work. He motioned Russell to come out side the bath with him. He told him to watch Nick closely; keep him in the warm water for ten minutes then get him out, into clean sleep pants and into bed.

"Do you have any thing with you to pass the time, Russ?"

"Yeah, I have the new Harry Potter. I'm just now getting around to reading it."

"God, you are such a kid." Alan looked at the young man with so much affection for a moment he looked more like his father than his employer. "Go get your book. I want you to stay here with him until Phillip comes on duty in" Alan took a quick look at his watch, "two more hours. Order anything you need from the kitchen but don't let him out of your sight. If you have to take a pee, leave the door open and watch him over your shoulder."

"Would you rather I didn't read?"

"No, if you're sitting beside him, I know you will be aware of him and keep an eye on him. Take care of him Russ. He's had a bad two days and I'm not just too sure how he's going to handle all the shit that's come to light."

"Don't worry; I really like him. He's a sweet guy and he's helped a lot of people while he's been here. He deserves help himself. I know you'll make him well."

"God sometimes I wish you didn't hero-worship me so much."

"Who says it's hero-worship? I just really want a Wii for my birthday."

Alan looked at his young friend and made a threatening gesture toward him. Russell just grinned at him, patted him on the shoulder and turned to go back into the bathroom to care for Nick. Just as he disappeared through the door, he looked back and said, "Gotcha."

* * * * * * * * *

Alan headed for his office. He closed and locked his door behind him, walked over to his mini fridge and pulled a bottle of Smirnoff vodka out of the freezer. He poured a stiff shot in a high-ball glass and collapsed in his comfortable chair. He drank the vodka down in one steady motion. He carefully poured a second glass, set it down on his desk, reached in his pocket and pulled out the tape recorder. He set it on the desk in front of him, picked up his glass and took a long pull. He put his finger on the 'play' button and thought to himself I'd rather walk on burning coals bare-foot than take this trip through Nick's sick mind. He ignored the small voice that said, Yeah, especially when you don't really know what the fuck happened in that room let alone what happened to Nick Stokes when he was a kid. Start the recorder, numb-nuts and let's see if we can figure this out.

It was almost 9.00pm. Dr. Perkins was sitting in his office. He was somewhat pissed that the vodka seemed to be affecting him physically but was doing nothing to calm his jumbled thoughts. He was pretty sure he knew Nick's story. He'd played the recording over and over.

Why do I keep calling it a tape recorder when it's digital and it's been digital for several years now? Is this even possible? I need to do some research on the onset of puberty and try to make some sense of this mess. Good God, how has he managed to function all these years? How deep did he have to bury this shit? I'm amazed he can make it through a shift at work, much less function at the level he does. How could he live through the last twenty-four years and not be a raving maniac? I need to call Phillip and check on him.

Alan buzzed Phillip's personal pager and had him on the line at once. "How's he doing Phillip?"

"He's resting quietly. He's turned over twice since I came on duty at 5.00. Russell said he hadn't moved at all while he was here. If it wasn't for the fact that I can feel his chest rise when I put my hand on him, I'd be worried."

"I've got to get some sleep. I'm as tired as he is right now. If he is still sleeping at midnight, try to wake him and get him to go to the bathroom. If he can't, don't worry about it. If he's sleeping that soundly, housekeeping can just change his bedding. If you can get him up, be sure and get some water down him before he goes back to sleep. Who is taking over for you at 1.00 am?"

There was a silence as Phillip obviously checked something then he said, "Roger is supposed to replace me but personally, I would rather have someone else here. Nick has never met Roger. If he's had the kind of day Russell described, he does not need to see a strange face sitting beside his bed when he wakes up. Oh, Dr. Perkins can you hold for just a minute? This is Russell beeping in and it might be about Nick." Alan said sure and leaned his aching head back against his chair. He was almost dozing when Phillip came back on the line.

"Hey, are you still there?"

Alan answered him and asked if the call was about Nick.

"Yeah it was. Russell said Charles is about to have a cow. He's worried sick about his favorite patient and he's coming back in to take over from me."

Alan just groaned and said, "He does not need to be there; not with stitches and I know he was running a slight fever earlier."

"You know that and I know that but you know Charles. He takes his responsibilities very seriously and between you and me; I bet his TLC approach does as much to heal our patients as your therapy."

"Please don't try to spare my feelings. We both know he probably has more wins than I do right now. Okay, as long as he just sits with Nick and doesn't try to perform any physical acts, I'll let it go....and Phillip."

"Yes, Dr. Perkins?"

"You tell the stubborn old coot, I just may come down during the night to check on both of them."

Phillip snickered quietly into the phone. "I'll tell him. Should I use your exact words?"

"Hell Yes!"

Alan got up and headed down the hall to his suite at the clinic. He had thought briefly about taking the bottle with him but decided there was no point in putting his liver and kidney's in danger if he couldn't get blotto while he was doing it.

He knew he should call Greg but he was just too tired. He was too tired for everything except...he stripped off his clothes, grabbed a large bottle of water and swigged down half of it trying to get 2 salt tables and 2 aspirin down his dry throat, then he dialed the one number he knew he had to call.

"Hola, this is Marie."

"Marie, I just wanted to tell you...."

"What did you want to tell me, Doctor?"

"Call me what you called me the other day."

"What, boss?"

"No it was a different word; started with 'c' or 'k' or somethin'."

"Querido."

"That's it. What does that mean?"

"I'll tell you someday when you're sober. Goodnight mi amor."

"What does that mean?" Alan was talking to a dial tone but he could still her soft, throaty laugh and the sigh in her voice. Mi Amor. He had to get a Spanish to English Dictionary. Tomorrow right after he hit the books and started proving his theory about Nick. Alan slept; dreaming about dark brown eyes that switched from a frightened, scared male face to a smiling, teasing female face.

* * * * * * * * * *

When Greg woke up, he was alone in the big comfortable bed but he was warm and happy. He felt like he'd slept for days instead of hours and he had the strangest feeling; a little tingly like he'd been held and cuddled for hours. Sure you have Sanders. You really think your two best friends are going to feed you, see to it that you are bathed and taken care of AND hug you and make you feel wanted like you used to feel with Nick. Man you are one hell of a dreamer.

He headed for the bathroom, took care of his personal needs, got dressed and went out find his hosts. Steve was sitting in the big recliner in the living room with Chelsi sprawled across his lap reading to him. When Greg came into the room and leaned over the recliner to give the little girl a hug and a kiss, she jumped up and followed him out to the kitchen.

"Well, young lady, to what do I own the honor of your company. I can't believe you left your Papa to come with me."

Chelsi giggled and threw both arms around Greg's waist and said, "Papa said we would have dinner when you woke up and I'm hungry so I'm glad you're awake."

"I should have known. It's not my fatal charm that's bewitched you; it's your hungry, little gut." He reached down and tickled her round, little tummy. She just collapsed over his arm and they both wound up on the kitchen floor engaged in a ferocious tickle fight. When their fun was interrupted by a tapping foot and a 'Ahem' they stopped and looked up into Bobby's scowling face.

"Hey Steve, you remember those discussions we've been having about having another kid? I think we just got one."

Chelsi squealed out loud and threw herself on top of Greg. "You're my brother. I don't have to call you Uncle Greg anymore. I can call you Greggo now. Does this mean you're going to live with us? You can't have my bedroom because I'm a girl and I need my space but we'll figure it out."

Greg was trying to get up, answer Chelsi who was excitedly bouncing up and down on top of him and get away from Bobby before he killed him. He backed up across the kitchen floor until he came to an abrupt halt when he felt two very solid legs up against his back. Steve leaned down and peeled his happy, excited daughter off Greg and sat her to one side. Then he leaned back down and put his hands under Greg's armpits and picked up him just as easily.

Chelsi was still bouncing up and down with excitement and it took both Steve and Bobby to call their happy little girl to order. She did calm down but wrapped herself around Greg and asked him again if he was going to move in with them and be her brother. Greg looked helplessly at Bobby who finally took pity on him and picked up Chelsi. He gave her a big hug and kissed her.

"Sweet heart, I know that Greg plays with you just like another kid but he actually is an adult, with his own life and his own place to live. But I promise he will always be welcome here whenever he has time to come play with you. How's that?"

She looked over at Greg. "I guess it all depends on you Greg. Will you come over and play with me sometime?"

Greg walked over and put his arms around the little doll. "Princess, I can't think of anything I would like more. What do you say we go start a game of Uno while we're waiting for Daddy to get dinner on the table?" She wiggled down out of Bobby's arms and ran to get the game.

Steve walked over to Greg, ruffled his hair and then fastened his hand in his curls and pulled his head over so he could drop a kiss on top of his head. "Good save Brother Greg. I'll join you and we'll let Bobby get back to his woman's work."

Bobby was ready to bitch loudly until Steve turned back toward him and bared his fangs at him. Oh Oh...busted. "Yeah, I'll have dinner ready in a few."

As Greg left the kitchen, Steve looked at his lover and said, "If I can get that little barrel of worms into bed at a decent hour, I promise, you are going to have to sit on a cushion at work tonight." Bobby felt his skin tingle and grow warm and wondered briefly if he could get away with slipping a shot of kid's Nyquil in his daughter's Kool-Aid.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alan woke up slowly; it was a painful experience. He felt like a pride of lions had used his tongue for a litter pan. Keeping his eyes open required great thought and effort. It also caused excruciating pain. It took a while to make it to the bathroom but large applications of alternating hot and cold water finally convinced him he was going to live and some day in the near future, he might be happy about the idea. He ordered a large glass of bloody Mary mix, hot coffee and toast. When he finished his meal he felt like he had just advanced from road kill to walking wounded. He left his lair, walking slowly and carefully and went to see about his patients. He had five currently in residence at the clinic; one alcoholic, one meth head, one middle aged woman addicted to prescriptions meds, Brady who was in a class by himself and Nick.

His spirits lifted slightly as he worked his way through his cases. His alcoholic was sober and finally was over the shakes. He was remorseful like all sobered up drunks. Alan knew this was the time to get him in a lifetime program and invested in some serious self examination. His meth head was a lost cause. You just cannot win every case and as much as it hurt to admit it even to himself, he couldn't save them all. She'd been a goner from the very first time she took a hit of the crystal death. He was really feeling good when he left his 3rd patient. Mrs. Louise Hawkins had finally admitted with no pushing from him that the only pain she needed medication for was the pain she felt in her soul. She lost her husband, seven year old son and 3 month old baby daughter when a drunk driver slammed into their car one lovely summer night. She had no one left to love and care for and she was a woman who was born to care for people. Alan made a note on her chart to talk to Marie for input on her treatment and to make sure she and his first patient were in the same group sessions. It would be good for both of them.

For the first time since the kid was admitted to Meijer Clinic, Alan felt a little ray of hope for Brady. He was eating breakfast in a shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The tiny fine scars were almost invisible against his newly tanned skin. He looked healthier than Alan had ever seen him. He knew that Nick's constant interest and care and the visits from Nick's friend Rob had a lot to do with his improved attitude. Come on you coward; four down and the main event is waiting. Let's go see how or should I say WHO Nick is this morning.

Nick was up, dressed and sitting in his chair talking on the phone when Alan stuck his head in. Nick gave him a small smile and mouthed "Mom" at him. Alan smiled the way he did every time he thought of Jillian Stokes and mouthed back "Say hello for me". He sat down in the other club chair, put his feet up on the ottoman and leaned back and relaxed. Nick finished his visit with his mom and said, "Hey, I look better than you do. That's a first."

Alan opened one eye and looked at his patient. "Nick, I'm 52 and you're 34. You always look better than I do. It's a fact of life. How are you feeling?"

"Like I been rode hard and put away wet and not 'rode' in a good way."

"Do you remember any of our session yesterday?"

"More than I want to remember, but none of it is clear. It's all jumbled up together with my dream, the fight with Greg, the trips to the clubs for the last eight years; everything is one huge stew crammed into my head."

"Are you ready to start making some sense of it all?"

When Nick didn't answer right away, Alan opened both eyes and sat up. He could not lose him; not now, now when they were so close. But he couldn't push him either. This had to be Nick and no one else. Finally Nick looked up at him with sad brown eyes that suddenly made Alan think of another time he'd seen those eyes but every thing was different. The thought was too hard to hang onto and follow up in his aching head. So he let it go and waited for Nick's decision.

"God I don't want to do this. I've got partial memories and none of them are pleasant. I can't figure out what I know from what I think I know from what I'm afraid to know."

"Nick, I swear to you, you don't have to do this alone. I will be with you every step of the way. Bobby, Steve, Rob, Greg and your parents are all just waiting to help when ever we need them. You've even got friends here who want to help."

"Yeah, I vaguely remember Charles and Russell and Phillip; one or the other of them was there every time I opened my eyes."

"They were and Brady has asked me at least 5 times a day for the last two days if he can come see you. He says when he's afraid to think about what's going on with him, you read to him. He wanted to come read to you. Nick, I have an idea what's happened. I'm not going to do the work, you are, but I will be here with you. I'm finally on the same page with everyone else. You are someone special to so many people. You are worth repairing. I believe it, your folks, your friends believe it; you have to believe it too."

Nick took a deep breath and held it for a minute. He let out a deep sigh and said, "Okay. How do we do this?"

"We do it a little different. We start over from the beginning. We go through everything; your weekly trips to the clubs, your excesses after Nigel Crane and Walter Gordon, your infatuation with Greg, the five months you two spent together including your attacks on him..."

Nick jerked when he said that and let out a small, strangled little moan. "Nick, I'm not going to even try to pretend what you did was alright but there was a reason and if you want to make sure it never happens again, either with Greg or anyone else, you have to understand what that reason was."

Nick looked up and said, "So far, it sounds just like what we've been doing all along."

"This time, we do it and relate everything to what happened when you were a child."

Nick got up and began pacing around the room. Alan straightened up and slipped his hand in his pocket to grasp his pager. Nick stopped his pacing and turned back towards the alert doctor. "Don't worry Alan, I'm not gonna go crazy on you again. But I'm not gonna pretend that I'm gonna enjoy this either. Let's get started."

* * * * * * * * * *

Over the next few weeks, the two men really did go through hell together. They tore Nick's life apart. Nick had to go through things he'd forgotten for years and he had to understand them until he was able to explain to Alan, why he did the things he did, what was the cause, the reasons. They dug and they picked and probed and argued until there was only one thing left and Nick just could not wrap his head around it.

"I'm telling you Nick, you are not a monster; a freak. You aren't now and you weren't then. It does happen; it happened to you."

"How come I've never heard about it before? I'll bet if we went out to the common room and picked five people at random, not a single one of them would know what they hell we're talking about. So how can you say I'm normal? I was a freak, a monster then and it's stayed with me all my life. It's why I did what I did to Greg, it's why I go to gay clubs and let strangers fuck me. I'm not normal Alan. I'm not fit to be around normal people."

"Nick, on May 14, 1939 Lina Medina gave birth to a six pound baby boy in Lima, Peru."

"Good for her, what the hell does that have to do with me?"

"Lina was 5 years, 7 months and 21 days old when she gave birth to her son. She is the youngest recorded confirmed mother in medical history and it's authenticated completely with pictures, medical documents and thoroughly researched articles in some very prestigious medical journals. The condition is now referred to as 'precocious puberty' and yes, it's not common BUT it's also a fact; a documented medical fact. And it's going to be happening more and more because it's also a fact that studies indicate that breast development in girls and pubic hair in boys is starting earlier than in previous generations. As a result, "early puberty" in children as young as 9 and 10 is no longer considered abnormal."

"You mean it's happened before?"

"Yes it's happened before. Lina is the youngest mother on record but there are reports of boys as young as 8 with viable sperm and the ability to ejaculate. You were uncommon BUT you weren't a monster or a freak. You were just a little more mature than the average nine almost ten year old boy."

"Jesus, what causes it?"

"It can be triggered by tumors or cysts. There are some diseases that can cause a surge in endocrine levels but it also can just spontaneously occur. When you first came to the clinic you were in a coma for almost eight days. We needed information so we talked with your parents and they gave us permission to access your medical records. Do you remember being in the hospital when you were almost seven?"

"Yeah, I got a sore throat that didn't go away and I was tired all the time. They thought I might have mono or something."

"Do you remember what your final diagnosis was?"

"Not really; I remember getting a lot of Jell-O because of my sore throat. I think I had to take pills every day but after a year or so, I was fine and I didn't have to take the pills anymore."

"Nick, your final diagnosis was Acquired hypothyroidism. It's more common as children reach puberty or teenage years, but can still appear in young children. It is also more common in girls than in boys but it does happen and it evidently happened to you. Now I can't say for sure but problems in the ovaries for girls or thyroid gland for boys can, very rarely, trigger the onset of puberty ahead of schedule. In about 5% of boys, precocious puberty is inherited. Starting puberty early can be passed to the son from the father or to the son from the maternal grandfather through the mother (who will not be affected by the disorder). Did anything happen right around the time of your violation; any sort of traumatic event? Come on...think Nick, you are so close to having complete control."

Nick was wearing holes in the rug. He was pacing back and forth and shaking his head in disagreement with what Alan was saying. He didn't want to believe this, he didn't want to think about this. It was too weird, too strange and Oh God, it was too familiar. Nick stopped dead in his tracks. He looked up at Alan, a look of almost terror on his face.

Alan jumped to his feet and hurried over to grab Nick by his arms. He held him firmly. "Nick, talk to me. What is it? What have you remembered? Come on, Nicky, you're scaring me. Talk to me!"

Nick reached out and grabbed hold of Alan; he leaned into him until he was almost resting his head on his shoulder. He was shaking so hard, Alan could hear his teeth chattering. "I remember Alan, I remember it all, every single thing. I remember. Let me sit down."

Alan got him a bottle of water and Nick drank half of it down without stopping. Alan stayed beside him, rubbing his shoulders and helping him to get into his breathing exercises. After a long time, Nick was almost calm again. He looked up at his doctor and realized he was looking at his friend. Alan had said he would be there with him every step and he had been. He'd gone to the wall with him and Nick now trusted him completely. "I'm ready to tell you everything now. You've earned it."

Alan turned away and leaned back against his desk. He smiled at Nick and said, "You know, I cannot believe I am about to say this but....as long as I have been waiting to hear this, there is someone else who deserves to hear your story. He's earned the right."

Nick swallowed hard and slowly began to nod his head. "Greg."

"Yes, Greg. He's stood by you, supported you, been there for you and I believe he's already forgiven you. Are you ready to tell him why he's gone through months of hell?"

"Call him. Ask him if he can come down."

"I'll do better than that. I'll drive us up to my office in town and he can meet us there. Are you ready to get out of here?"

"I'm ready to do what ever it takes to let him know how sorry I am. Let's take a road trip."

Alan had called Greg to set up a meeting the following day sometime after Greg woke up but that was shot down almost before Alan got through talking. Greg could not, would not wait that long. He was ready to drive down to the clinic right then and there but Alan finally got a word in edgewise and told him that he was springing Nick from the clinic and they would meet in his office in Las Vegas. If Greg absolutely could not wait, they would meet the next morning in his office when Greg got off work.

That meant they had to get their butts in gear and drive to LV right then instead of getting a good nights sleep and leaving the next morning. It rushed everyone a little because Alan had to do a check on all his patients and Nick had to pack a bag for the first time in six months and go spend some time with Brady. He told Alan the poor kid had put up with enough adults just disappearing out of his life; he was not going to be one of them. He was still with Brady when Alan showed up. They both assured him that Nick was just going on an overnight trip and that yes he was going to be leaving the clinic but that did not mean he was going to be leaving Brady. Nick had become very fond of the poor little rich kid and was determined to try to be his friend and give him someone/something he could depend on.

* * * * * * * * * *

Nick was equal parts scared and excited about getting out of the clinic and seeing Greg again on their home turf. He and Alan were going to spend the evening/night together. For both of them it would be a strange transition from doctor/patient to two new friends trying to figure out how to act around each other. Usually, you get to know someone through common interests and it takes time to get to the point where trust builds enough to accept them into your life as a friend. With these two, the trust came before they even knew if they had any common interests.

Alan offered to take Nick out but he was afraid he might be seen by some of his co-workers and was just a little nervous about being out in crowds again after being sequestered for six solid months.

Alan had called Marie from the clinic before they left and by the time they got there, she was at Alan's and had the guest room prepared and was in the kitchen stirring up some smells that made Nick think of home so much he almost had tears in his eyes. Of course, Alan said he had them too but that was just from the peppers that Marie seemed to put in everything including ice cream.

Have I mentioned that Marie is Mexican, pretty as a picture and more than able to handle Dr. Perkins and his odd lot of patients?

"You scoff but I notice you consume anything and everything I prepare for you and usually complain that there is not more. Hello Nick, it is so wonderful to see you somewhere other than the clinic. Do you think you could stand some chili rellanjo's with menudo as the first course?"

"Oh my god; I swear I would marry you if he hadn't just spent the last six months convincing me I'm gay. Now I know why; he wants to keep you hidden in his kitchen." It had been a long while since Nick had flirted with a pretty woman. Gay or straight; the dance of invitation is always a wonderful way to spend one's time.

"Nick, believe me NO ONE keeps Marie anyplace she does not want to be. She is the most irritating woman I've ever had to deal with and I would fire her in an instant if I thought I could ever find anything in my office again." He glared at the lovely woman moving serenely about his kitchen as though she owned it, "I suppose this means you've already decided we aren't going out to dinner. What would you have done if we'd wanted to spend the evening trolling the strip joints?"

Marie smiled at him and Nick swore he could hear her voice saying "Silly Man" but her lips didn't move so he knew it was unspoken but very obvious. "Why, I would have simply packaged it up and taken it to St. Guadalupe's Food Kitchen. They would appreciate my cooking even if you do not seem to have the good sense to do so."

Nick saw a chance of losing his excellent meal and since he was already in full drool, he quickly told Marie, he was staying there and eating with her no matter what Alan decided to do.

The three of them had a wonderful dinner and Nick found that either Alan was completely different when not in 'doctor' mode or else, Marie just made him funny. He went to bed with hope in his heart and the sound of laughter in his memory.

* * * * * * * * * *

Nick and Alan got to his office at 8:15 and found that Marie was there ahead of them. There was fresh coffee and one plate full of fruit and another loaded with warm, fragrant pastries that made Nick's mouth water; which was kind of funny since he'd sworn he wouldn't be able to eat a bite for days after last night's truly memorable dinner. Marie allowed them to fix a cup of coffee but forbid them to get into the fruit or pastries until Greg got there. At 8:45 he came bouncing into the office; his hair was curling all over his head and though he had tried to smooth it down into some semblance of order, it was pretty apparent it was still damp and he must have dashed home, showered, changed and broke all speed limits getting there. Marie allowed them to enter the inner sanctum where she had the smaller round table in Alan's office set up for an impromptu brunch. She sat with the three men while they ate the light breakfast she'd prepared for them. Nick was worried. Greg seemed happy to see him but he had not hugged Nick or touched him; he hadn't even shook his hand for God's sake and now he was sitting across from Nick with Alan and Marie between them. He had embraced Marie and kissed her on the cheek and gotten a warm, almost loving embrace in return with a return kiss. He'd been enveloped in a bear hug by Alan and from the way he threw his arms around the doctor and hugged him back, it was pretty obvious the hug was nothing new. Nick could feel his hopes dropping fast.

It seemed to Nick as though he had just poured his second cup of coffee and reached for a fresh, warm Danish but Marie was up now, clearing things off the table and the next thing he knew, she had left the room with a final good bye and the remark that the phones were turned off and she would see they were not disturbed. Nick was front and center stage and he was so scared his hands were trembling. They were still seated at the round table with coffee and water. Marie had left some of the fruit and the few remaining goodies. Nick took a sip of his water and tried to compose himself.

"Nick, do you want me to start your breathing exercises?" Alan knew this was not going to be easy for his almost ex-patient.

"No, I'm never going to close my eyes to what I am or what I'm doing again and I might as well start here and now. But thanks for the thought." Nick smiled at his doctor; his friend. He looked at Greg. How had he not known this man was the love of his life? Why couldn't he realize what he had before he spoiled it and what if he'd spoiled it forever? No matter what, Greg deserved to hear everything that caused his harsh treatment at the hands of the man who made him think he was in it for the long haul. Nick took one last sip of water, one last deep breath and began.

"You know I come from a large family. Will, that's William Jr. was the first-born and I guess everyone was out of their minds with joy when he turned out to be a boy. Then the girls started coming. One after another until there were five and I'm told that's when my daddy said he didn't need an anvil to fall on his head. He got the message, Will was the only boy and he was pretty happy with his five gorgeous girls and one son. You can imagine how stunned everyone was when not only did I show up but Lordy, Lordy another son.

There was fifteen years between Will and me but I'm told he was thrilled to have a brother no matter what the age difference. The family albums are loaded with pictures of him carrying me around in his arms and then on his hip and finally on his back. He put me on a horse when I was three. He had me riding with the vaquero's on Grandpa Vickers ranch by the time I was five. Yeah, all the money was on Mama's side of the family and they weren't too happy when she took up with William Stokes; but the babies and the fact that daddy was a hard working, church going man began to soothe things over. By the time I came along, Grandpa and Grandma Vickers were a constant part of our lives."

"I had the kind of childhood you only hear about in books. I was loved, coddled, spoiled, pampered within an inch of my life BUT I was also picked on and just smothered by 5 sisters, one mom and Lupe our housekeeper. She came to us right after Will was born and by the time I came along, I think they would have got rid of one of us before Mom and Dad would give up Lupe. She was just another female who loved me, spoiled me, spanked me and kept me under her thumb. Dad was never there. He was working night and day to support his ever growing family and make a name for himself in the Texas Justice system. That wasn't easy. The Texas Judicial system was completely political and one of the nastiest arena's in the US. It didn't help that daddy was an honest man. That turned out to be his entry into the system. He won his first election because the big boys didn't think he had a china man's chance in hell to win anything so they ignored him. The only people who paid him any attention were the folks who listened to what he had to say about the way things were being done and how wrong they were; they listened and then they voted. All he needed was one foot in the door and he was on his way."

"When I was six, I had a short stay in the hospital." Nick looked up at Greg finally. His eyes were fastened on Nick and he hadn't moved except to breathe since Nick had started. "Greg, Alan thinks that visit may have had some influence on what eventually happened to me, well at least part of what happened to me. I wasn't in there long but I was on medication for months after I got out."

"I guess it was just a year after that Will had to drop out of school for a month. He actually did have mono which was what they thought I had when I was hospitalized. He was home and in bed for a month and I'm ashamed to say I was thrilled. I knew I was loved, God I knew it but I was surrounded by females. I wanted, I guess I needed a male around. I was so happy to have him home I tried to crawl in bed with him and they wouldn't let me. Finally they allowed me to get up on the foot of his bed with both of us wearing these stupid little masks on our faces. To amuse himself and to pass the time, Will decided to start me on an exercise program. I wasn't growing as fast as everyone else in the family had. The door jambs in the kitchen and pantry and back porch were full of markings and notations for every member of the family and it was obvious that I was not as tall as the other six Stokes had been at my age. Our family doctor thought it might be a side effect of the Acquired Hypothyroidism I'd been diagnosed with the prior year. Will was determined that if I wasn't going to be six feet like everyone else, I was still going to be strong and healthy and able to hold my own against anything."

"He planned out this whole program and to keep him happy, Daddy and Grandpa bought this whole set of exercise equipment. By then, Will was allowed to get out of bed and sit in a chair for short periods so I was willing to go along with it because it meant he was sitting right there with me the whole time. The first time Will got out of that chair and came over and put his hands on my shoulders and showed me how I was supposed to be moving my arms I was hooked. His hands felt wonderful; so different from the soft touches I got from all the women in the house. These touches were firm and the hands were strong and knew how to move me into the positions he wanted."

Nick looked at first Alan and then Greg. "I know you may be thinking I was fixating on my brother. I really wasn't. I loved Will then and I do now but it was strictly a little boy's hero worship of the big brother he wished was always there to teach him and take care of him. I know the difference now and I'm pretty sure I knew the difference then between what was appropriate and what wasn't." Both men nodded their understanding and waited silently for him to continue.

"By the time Will was well enough to go back to school, I had learned to enjoy the exercises for the simple sake of making my body bend to my will and I had also learned Will's attitude which was if it's easy, make it harder. I still work out with that as my primary rule to this day. If I find that I can curl 50lbs with out raising a sweat, I increase it to 55 lbs. I didn't know it then but Will was teaching me more than just how to do simple strength exercises; he was really giving me a rule for life. If it's too easy, add some weight or difficulty; it's the only way to keep growing in your job or your personal life."

"I'm guessing that the exercises were the main reason I never seemed to hit that gawky stage that so many of my friends did. I was always pretty coordinated and I was a hit with all the coaches which fed my need for male companionship and contact. Up till then, the only male hands I'd ever felt on my body were Will and my doctor. My dad was not a hugger, at least I don't think he was then; he just was never there. My Grandpa was from the old school that men didn't touch men. I spent a lot of time with the vaquero's but they would have cut off their own hands before they laid a finger on the Patron's grandson. There was a sort of funny side to that. They didn't touch me or hug me but man did they give me an education in street language, Spanish cuss words and I think they taught me every single dirty word for a man or a woman's parts in existence at that time. It was pretty funny really. That was a time when Mom or my sisters would still say pee-pee when they referred to a man's penis while I of course was thinking dick, cock or prick in my head. You understand, they would never say that in front of me or any other male. But being the baby in a house full of women, they got to where they regarded me as one of their toys and they would say a lot of things not even realizing I was within ear shot."

"By the time I got up to my tenth birthday, I was popular in school, played on any and every sports team we had and was getting my 'male' fix from my coaches and my teammates. You know it's one of the oddities of American life that jocks who are notoriously hard on gays are constantly touching each other. We showered together in one big community shower. We were constantly putting our hands on each other's butts. Half the time when I was getting ready to receive a ball in the line-up I could feel my guys hands practically pressed up against my balls. It was the strangest thing and I guess the strangest thing of all was that I never thought it was strange. I just enjoyed the male contact. Then, I got a call from Will. He was taking a week off and coming home to be with me for my tenth birthday. I was walking on air."

Nick stopped to take a drink but was surprised to find his water bottle was empty. Alan suggested they take a ten minute break, go to the bathroom and replenish their water, coffee or whatever. Greg asked if they could move over to the comfortable club chairs, he was getting a little stiff from sitting in the dining chairs.

When everyone was settled in their new positions, Nick was pleased to see that Greg was sitting right beside him and Alan had settled in his comfortable office chair. Greg was still not touching Nick but at least he was next to him now. Nick took a sip of water and picked his story.

"I was so happy and the first night home was something I can't hardly describe it was so good. Will grabbed me the minute he got out of the truck and hugged me so hard I know I turned red and I didn't care one bit. I was practically on top of him all evening and after dinner, he went up to my room with me and we played cards until Mom came and said I had to go to bed. I had begged and pleaded to be allowed to stay home from school the next day but no one but me seemed to realize this should have been declared a national holiday. Will just messed up my hair and told me not to whine. 'Suck it up, Nick' he said. That was his favorite expression. 'Suck it up'. I'll spend tomorrow with Mom and the girls and the horses and then we'll have Friday, Saturday and Sunday to celebrate your birthday and get over the celebration. I've got to go back to work on Monday but we have three great days to spend together helping you turn ten. I asked if he would stay in my room and wait until I got ready for bed. He said sure and Mom left saying she would let us men finish our talk."

"I was so used to being around all my teammates, when I came out of the bathroom, I didn't have any clothes on and I was drying myself off on the towel. I snapped Will with the towel and he laughed at me but when I dropped the towel on the floor, he stopped laughing. He just stared at me and finally said, 'Good God, Nick. You're a lot more grown up than I thought you would be.' I couldn't figure out what he was talking about and I looked down at myself. I looked the same to me except for the patch of dark hair growing in around my dick and the fact that I had to sort of arrange myself now when I put on my jock cup because I seemed to be bigger than my cup and something was always spilling over. That had just happened in the last few months but I was used to it and it never occurred to me that the last time Will had seen me, I'd still been smooth like a baby. I finally decided it was just because he hadn't seen me for a while and told him 'Nah, I was growing but not nearly as fast as the rest of them and Doc Hopkins had told me he was pretty sure I was not going to make the Stokes six foot mark.' I was a little sad, every guy wants to be tall and strong but since I couldn't be tall well at least I sure was strong."

"I got into bed, Will came over and hugged me tight and said good night. I had no idea that would be the last happy time I would have with my brother. When I got home from school the next day, everything had changed. All my sisters were there and Barbara, my oldest had brought one of her sorority sisters over. Will didn't even notice I was home. He didn't see anyone else in the world except Julie Ann. He just barely said hello to me and before I knew it, he and Barbara and Julie Ann were gone off to a party. I tried to wait up for him but fell asleep somewhere around 2.00am. The next day, I went to his room but he was downstairs on the phone talking to Julie Ann. I went into the kitchen to get something to eat thinking Will would come in and have breakfast with me. After all it was Friday, the first of my three day celebration. He never came to breakfast. I heard a truck pull up out front and then the door slam. A while later I went looking for him, but he was not in the house. One of my other sisters said he went horse back riding with Julie Ann. It just got worse and worse from that moment on. I never again saw him alone; he was always with Julie Ann. Friday Night I was so angry I went upstairs to his room and threw myself down on his bed. I was halfway thinking about trashing his room but I figured he was only using it to change clothes so he could go somewhere else with Julie Ann and wouldn't even notice. I threw one of his pillows on the floor. There was a magazine under his pillows. I pulled it out and looked at the cover. There was a picture of a naked woman with the biggest tit's I'd ever seen. She was sprawled on her back and her legs were open and she had her fingers down there touching herself. I felt hot and sick and itchy all at the same time. I'd never ever seen anything like that. The vaquero's might talk dirty but they would have died before they let me see filth like that. I threw the nasty thing across the room and just folded up into a ball and tried to figure out what happened to my brother. Why would he bring dirt like that into our house."

"I couldn't make sense of it and I was getting sick to my stomach. I decided to go to my own room but I realized I needed to touch the nasty thing one more time to put it back under the pillows and put the pillow back on the bed. When I went over to pick it up, it had fallen open to what I guess was the centerfold. It was the same woman only this time there was a man with her. He was naked and he had the biggest pee-pee I'd ever seen. It was large and shiny and it had some sort of stuff dripping from the end of it. I didn't even realize I'd called it a pee-pee in my head but I knew I was seeing what the vaquero's would call a dick or a cock. I just froze. I couldn't take my eyes off the thing. I was still hot but I wasn't sick any more. I did feel something really low in my stomach, almost below my stomach. I wanted to touch the thing even if it was a picture. I wondered what it would feel like to touch the real thing. Then my mom called me from right out in the hall. I almost jumped across the room and stuffed the magazine back under the pillows."

"Mom was calling me to dinner which again was just her, me and whichever of the girls happened to be around. Dad was still working so he could take Saturday and Sunday off and of course Will was out with...you guessed it....Julie Ann. After everyone had gone to bed, I sneaked back down the hall and into his room. I pulled the magazine out and looked at the picture of the man again. I didn't even notice the woman was in the same picture. I could only see him and if I were honest, I have no idea what he looked like; I was just looking at his cock. I finally got myself back to bed and tried to sleep but God I had strange dreams."

Nick briefly put his head in his hands and stopped talking for a moment. Alan asked him if he needed another break. He said no, the worst was ahead and he needed to get it over with. He just needed a minute to get himself together. He almost jumped out of his chair when he felt Greg's hand on his arm. He looked up at his friend, his once partner. Greg was looking at him with almost no expression on his face at all. Thank God it wasn't pity. Nick really did not want to see pity on Greg's face. Greg smiled at him and slid his hand down until he slipped it under Nick's. He laced their fingers together the way he used to and just waited for Nick to go on. The warm, familiar touch calmed him at once.

"Saturday was even worse than Friday. Mom and Dad had this political dinner they had to attend. It had been planned for weeks and it would be his introduction to the upper level of political bosses. It could easily make him or break him. Not attending was not an option. Before Will came home, there were no problems at all. He was going to stay with me but now, he'd been invited to a big swanky affair at the country club to meet Julie Ann's folks. No one was available to stay with me; not even Lupe. I kept saying I could stay by myself but Mom wouldn't even listen to the idea. Finally Julie Ann called one of her sorority sisters. She had a younger sister who baby sat and if she was available, she had references. Of course she was available; anything for Julie Ann. It was settled and I was pissed. She might be the greatest thing since sliced bread when it came to taking care of kids but I was going to make her life miserable. God how could I have been so wrong or so stupid."

"Things started out okay. She tried to be pleasant, I was an ass. She offered to play games with me, I watched TV. She went to the kitchen to fix my dinner and even was going to let me eat in the living room on a TV tray. I had to get smart and grabbed the plate off the tray and sat down on the floor with it. I spilled it and food went all over the floor. She lost it then and yelled at me to go upstairs to my room. She would deal with me after she cleaned up my messes. I remember she yelled at me, 'You're old enough not to make a mess with food on the floor. What's wrong with you? Are you a stupid retard or don't you care about other peoples stuff?" Greg jerked violently when Nick repeated the baby's sitter's words. Nick turned to him and said, "Sounds familiar doesn't it babe? How many times did I throw those same cold, cruel words at you?" Nick waited for Greg to remove his hand but he swallowed, shook himself, folded his hand back around Nick's and told him to go on.

"I went upstairs but I didn't go to my room, I went to Will's. I grabbed the magazine and turned to the guy. I imagined I was in the picture with him. That he was there and would keep her away from me. I was concentrating so hard on what he would feel like if I touched him, I never noticed she had come upstairs until she swept into Will's room. She was standing over me before I knew it. She grabbed the magazine out of my hand and her face went white then red when she saw the picture of the naked couple. She looked at me with this strange look on her face and she said, 'You disgusting sex-freak. How old are you anyway? You're disgusting peeking at things you shouldn't. You need to be punished, you need to really be hurt for spilling your food all over the living room carpet and then you leave me down there to clean up your messes while you're up here thinking about sticking your pee-pee into something warm and wet. That's how women get raped because of sex-nuts, sex-freaks like you. But I bet if I tell your folks they won't punish you the way you should be; oh no; they'll let you get away with it and then you'll just do dirtier and dirtier things. I'm going to punish you. I'm going to give you just what you deserve."

"She reached down and jerked my belt out of my jeans before I ever realized what she was doing. She flipped me over on the bed and wrapped the belt around my wrists and fastened it tight around them. I was laying on my stomach with my face in the pillows and I turned my head so I could breathe. I told her she was crazy, to let me go but she just kept on talking about punishing me the way I deserved and she'd teach me to spill food all over the carpet and make her clean it up. She reached over and pulled Will's night stand open. She pulled out a pair of scissors he kept in there and for one minute I thought she was going to stab me with them but instead, she cut my t-shirt off. Then she twisted me over on my side and unbuttoned my jeans and pulled them and my shorts off. They caught on my shoes and I thought maybe I could kick her and run but my legs were pinned together by the jeans and she pulled my shoes off and had my pants off before I even realized what she was doing. I was completely naked in front of a stranger and I was terrified but that was nothing compared to the look that came over her face when she looked down at me and said, "Jesus Christ, you're a physical freak too. No ten year old boy should have a woody.' I had no idea what she was talking about and it didn't help when she grabbed my dick hard and started rubbing back and forth on it."

"She stopped and got quiet and if I was scared before I was terrified now. She started humming to herself. She smiled at me and said, 'Well let's make the punishment fit the crime and I'll have a little fun too. She took off her clothes and I knew I was going to vomit right there on Will's bed but I guess I made some sort of gagging sound because she bent over me and said, "You little son-of-a-bitch, don't you even thing about puking and ruining my fun. I'll cut your pee-pee off and shove it down your throat. We'll just see if you bleed to death or choke first. Now shut up and be still. She climbed on top of me and started rubbing herself against me but it made me sick and I got smaller. She slapped me and got off me and went over and got the magazine. She propped up the pillows somehow so I was looking at the picture of the guy. 'You need a little something to get you started you freak. Here it is. Now I'm going to get my fun and then I'm going to take care of you. She climbed back on top of me. I tried to not think about what she was doing and just looked at the guy in the picture. I looked at his dick and imagined I was holding it and rubbing it and we were all alone together in my room with no one else around. Finally she climbed off me. I was so sore, she had put all her weight on me and my hands were still fastened behind my back and I couldn't feel them anymore. She looked down at me and screamed at me again that I was a sex-freak because I couldn't get hard from her and had to look at the picture of the woman in the magazine. I almost told her it wasn't the woman I was looking at but something told me to keep my mouth shut. I think she might have killed me if she'd know it was the guy who had gotten me hard enough for her to get me inside her. I didn't realize I was still somewhat erect until she reached down and grabbed me and started jerking her hand back on forth on me. She was holding me too hard and pulling on it too hard and it hurt so much I thought I would cry but that was nothing compared to what she did next. She reached down and grabbed my testicles. They had started growing the last few months and I'd already known they were tender when I accidentally caught them when I sat wrong. She started squeezing them hard and I cried out and she said I was getting what I deserved that punishment was supposed to hurt. I was so close to passing out. I remember yelling at her, I'm going to tell. I'll tell every one what you did to me and she just squeezed harder and laughed. She said, 'You stupid little shit, guys can't get molested or raped. Only girls can. Look at you, you're hard right now and I think I see stuff coming out of your pee-pee. All guys want sex. You wanted me so bad you got hard to get me and you're only ten years old. If you dare open your mouth, I'll tell everyone what a monster, a freak you are. How would your fancy parents with their fancy dinners like having the whole town know they have a sex-freak for a kid? Nothing happened to you that you didn't want. You were the one looking at a sex magazine instead of helping me clean up your mess.' Then she squeezed extra hard and started rubbing me as hard and as fast as she could. I felt like my dick was going to explode and then I felt something warm and I knew she had made me bleed and I passed out."

"It seemed like hours later when I came to. I was still in Wills room but my hands were undone, I was naked and there was some sort of sticky stuff all over my lower stomach and thighs. I remember getting up and thinking I had messed up my brothers room. I made the bed. I found a magazine on the floor and put it under the pillow. It seemed to belong there. I picked up my clothes. I never wondered why I was naked in my brother's room. I went to my room and put my clothes in the hamper and ran the tub full of water. It was so much hotter than I was used to but it seemed to be the right thing to do. I got in the tub and my skin burned from the water and it hurt my pee-pee so bad I remember crying a few tears and then I heard this voice. It sounded like a kid but a kid older and tougher than me. It said, 'Stop crying you little wimp. Suck it up. Take it like a man. You can't tell anyone what happened.' I remember sitting there wondering where the voice had come from and what I wasn't supposed to tell. Maybe it was whatever had hurt my pee-pee so bad. I never told because I never remembered."

Poor scared brutalized, violated young Nick did not know then that the voice would be his tormenter and protector for the next twenty-four years.

"I never told anyone, until now"

Nick was quiet. The room was quiet. No one spoke. Greg finally let out a breath he had no idea he'd been holding. He didn't know if he was shaking or Nick but their joined hands were visibly moving.

"Guys don't get raped, they get punished. You really didn't know what you were doing to me. You punished me for spilling food in the living room; for not being a grown up and acting like a stupid kid but you didn't rape me. Thank God!" Greg leaned back in his chair and rested his head on the lean back. He was shaking all over now but he didn't let go of Nick's hand.

Alan looked at the two men sitting in front of him. It was obvious they had gone through that whole horrible ordeal together. He wondered if that meant they finally were together.

'Nick, are you okay? Do you need anything right now." Alan was a little worried about his patient. He was sitting there, actually slumped there in front of him. Only a slight movement of his chest let him know he was still alive. He seemed diminished somehow; smaller almost like a child was sitting there; a small, hurt, confused child.

Nick took a deep breath and sat up straight. The child was gone. A grown man was sitting in front of Alan. A beautiful man with the saddest brown eyes he'd ever seen. He felt a completely irrational desire to go around the desk and put his arms around the man with the sad eyes and hold him and tell him everything was going to be alright now.

Nick turned to Greg and asked the question he had to know the answer to; the question he did not want to know the answer to. "Greg. Can you forgive me and give me another chance?"

Greg looked at their linked hands and then up to Nick's sad, hopeful eyes. He sighed softly and then said the only thing he could say under the circumstances.

Alan was pacing his living room wondering for the millionth time during the last two years how a woman who said all she had to do was put on her earrings and a little spritz of perfume could take 45 minutes for those two tasks.

When Marie finally came down the stairs and did her little 'exhibition twirl' at the bottom, he forgot his irritation and thought again for the millionth time during the last two years that he was the luckiest man in the world.

At another home, in another part of town, Warrick Brown was waiting for his special lady to come down their staircase. It had taken him and Catherine more that two years to get on the same page but now that they were, he knew he was the luckiest man in the world.

Steve's mother had just left with a very excited Chelsi. They were going to have a Shrek marathon; all three in order. She didn't even mind that her daddies were going to a party without her. She was pretty sure a grown up party would be dull; not nearly as much fun as her evening with Shrek.

Bobby came into the room and walked over to his partner. He and Steve had just celebrated their sixteenth anniversary. They were both still in a haze of happiness. When they first met neither one had even considered the fact that they would see each other again let alone have a child, build a home and spend 16 wonderfull years together. Bobby looked at his love, his Steve. He was a big handsome man. When ever he thought about him, an old country song played in his head; A Brown Eyed Handsome Man. That was his Steve. He knew he was the luckiest man in the world.

All over Las Vegas, people were getting ready to go to a party at Nick Stokes. It was so good to have Nick back. It had been a long, hard six months without him at the Crime Lab. They did have a new CSI and it had taken a while but Ronnie Lake slowly but surely began to fit into the team. She was young and eager but she was no Nick. She didn't have his experience; his attention to detail that often saw evidence that could have been overlooked, nor did she have his genuine care and concern for the victims. She was getting there; she would be a keeper.

Meantime, the man in question was in the kitchen double checking everything for the last time. He had just finished all the preparations for his 'Killer Margarita's' when he heard a voice in his head say "My God Nick, these are better than any bar drink."

It was so real Nick turned around to see if he was still alone. There was no one in the kitchen with him. Then he realized that's what Greg had said almost three years ago after his last party. He'd stayed after everyone left to help Nick clean up and when they were done, Nick had fixed them each a drink. Greg had taken a swallow and told him they were better than any bar drink, then he'd asked why Nick's bedroom door was closed.

Nick had taken him into his bedroom and kissed him and told him he didn't want a one night quickie. He'd thought he had found the Holy Grail but like so many men from the beginning of time, he'd taken everything and given nothing back and he'd been cast out of heaven. God it had been such a long, painful fall to earth or in his case all the way to hell itself.

The memories overtook him so quickly he wasn't prepared for the emotional onslaught and he leaned forward and put his hands flat on the table and tried to breath the way Alan had taught him so long ago. He was forcing himself to try to stay calm and ride this through and then he felt two arms slide around his waist. A hand gently slid up his chest forcing him to stand up and lean back against a slim body that held more strength than any one but him could ever know.

Greg held Nick tight against him and said, "Let it go. Tonight's for us and our friends. There's no room for bad thoughts or ghosts from the past. We fought them remember; we fought them apart and together and they're all gone. It's just you and me baby. Tonight our house is party central."

Nick turned around and looked at his love and he was not at all ashamed to admit, his life. He'd come so close to losing this love, this life, this man. He remembered his question two long years ago: "Greg. Can you forgive me and give me another chance?"

He waited a lifetime for the answer and when it came it was so Greg. "Yes and No."

Yes he could forgive him and no he couldn't give him another chance. No he couldn't forgive him and yes he could give him another chance. Nick had finally said, "I have no idea what you just told me."

"Well welcome to the club Stokes, now you're just as confused as I am. In some ways, you acting like a dick was the best thing that ever happened to me. If it hadn't of been for that, I would never have gone to Bobby and I wouldn't have him and Steve in my life, or Alan. I probably would never have been hurt enough myself to know what Mr. Emerson was going through and I wouldn't have had the privilege of knowing him or my foster brothers and sisters and I sure as hell would never have just blindly gone with Annabelle candle shopping and wound up knowing the most unforgettable character I've ever met. None of that would have happened to me if you hadn't treated me the way you did."

Greg looked at Nick and realized he hadn't a clue what he was talking about. All that happened while he was coming apart. "It's okay Nick, neither one of us is crazy. That all happened after you and I broke up. We weren't talking so you didn't know any of it. But all these people have made such a difference in my life; in me. I'm glad for everything that happened to me after I walked out of your house. I like 'the me' I am right now. I like my life and my friends and my interests. I don't want to go back to being 'happy-go-lucky' Greg and I sure don't want to go back to being your bitch/ho."

Nick could not have been more surprised if Greg had walked over and punched him in the face. He physically recoiled. "I never thought of you like that Greg."

"No, when you were holding me down with a knee in my back shoving yourself inside my ass with no lube and even worse with no kisses or caresses, that's sure in hell what I felt like. I am grateful that it wasn't rape. You didn't think of yourself as raping me but Nick I don't give a damn whether it was rape or 'punishment', I didn't deserve it. I wasn't a thing to be raped or a child to be punished. I was supposed to be your lover, your partner both at home and at work and oh yeah, let's talk about 'home'. You sure have a twisted idea of sharing and just what a 'home' is supposed to be. Two drawers, no key. Do you remember the Barker Case?"

Nick thought hard and finally said, "Wasn't that the one where the family was killed and it turned out the guy's 'wife' was actually his sister and their daughter was...."

"Yeah that's the one. Do you remember how many hours we all worked on that case?"

"God, it was a nightmare. I think at one time everyone on the night shift was on that and you..."

"Yeah, me. Who was it who spent 52 solid hours trying to separate the DNA so we could figure out who killed who first? It was me you ass-wipe and you know what I got for my trouble? When I got 'HOME" to "MY HOUSE", I couldn't get inside for a hot shower or a good nights sleep in bed because all I had was a garage door opener and you had locked the back door. I had to sleep in the back seat of my car because by then I knew there was no way I was going to be able to drive back to my apartment. So Nick; why don't you just tell me how you thought of me because I sure would like to know."

Nick had just stared at this stranger who for some reason looked just exactly like his Greg. God knows he and Greg had some knock-down battles during their time together but this was different. This was not a spoiled kid whining for something he wanted nor was this a frightened, terrified lover trying to understand what he'd done to cause Nick to hurt him so badly. This was a grown man, almost righteous in his anger, laying out the facts and demanding an answer. And God help him, Nick could not give him one.

"Greg, I can't tell you how I thought of you then because I guess, I was just too sick to really know. I can tell you how I think of you right now." Nick paused to see if Greg even wanted to listen to him.

"Oh please do, I would like to have some facts to relate to, after all, we're both CSI's, we have been taught to collect all the evidence we can find."

"Okay, I think that right now, I've never seen anyone stronger or surer of himself than you are. I look at you and I see everything I could ever want in a friend, a lover or a life-time partner. I look at you and I see a man anyone would be proud to belong to. I look at you and I see love; complete, honest, lifetime love. I look at you and I feel such sadness and regret that I had a treasure like you and was too dumb to know it. I look at you and I think that I want to spend the rest of my life telling you and showing you how much I love you." Nick did not realize that tears were rolling down his cheeks while he was talking.

Greg stood there for a long while then said, "Do you realize Nick, that's the first time you've ever used the word 'love' and me in the same sentence?"

"Yes, I do. That's one of the things I remembered when I had that first breakdown at the clinic. I knew I'd told you, I just knew it. God knows I'd thought it often enough but I went through all our time together and when I got to the end, I knew, I'd never said it to you; never told you the most important bond between us and I sure never showed you."

Greg started walking back and forth and then around Alan's office. Finally Alan got up and opened the door on the back wall of his office which led out into a small private courtyard. Neither Nick nor Greg had ever seen the little garden; they'd never even noticed the door but now Greg just nodded a thank you at Alan and added the space in the courtyard to his area.

Nick started to speak once but Greg just held his hand up to stop him and Nick shut up and waited.

Nick was thinking,Waiting for the World to Change. What is that from? It's so familiar I can almost see someone....dancing no, singing, no....both. Cath and I at the club dancing to John Mayer singing that song. Now I'm sitting here waiting for the world to change and I don't know which way's it's going. If Greg wants nothing more to do with me there isn't a damn thing I can do about it except pick up the pieces and try to go on. I think I'd better plan on looking for something somewhere else. There is no way in the world I can be in the same town with him knowing what I've lost. Oh oh, here he comes."

Greg walked back into the office and sat down in the chair. He looked at Nick and then he looked over at Alan. "Here's the way it's going to be; at least as far as I'm concerned. Right now I don't even know if I can trust you on the job. So we both work to get that trust back. We see Alan together and separately. I don't want any telephone calls that don't relate to work. I don't want any drop by's. You don't show up in my home unless or until I invite you. I don't want any of those puppy dog looks across the table in the break room and if I do happen to go out with someone, I do not want to have to look at a sorrowful, 'why have you betrayed me' expression anywhere. Is that agreed?"

Nick started to answer Greg but was interrupted by him. "Don't just say Oh Yes. You think about it because this isn't going to take a few days or weeks or even months. I may never be able to trust you enough to try a personal relationship again. You have no idea how badly you hurt me and I don't just mean physically. That healed in a few days. The other wounds are still open and bleeding and they may never close. Are you willing to try knowing you may never get what you want?"

Nick looked at Greg and thought about that first night together. He thought about the hours spent wrapped up together on the couch watching 'Meercat Manor'. He remembered the night Flower died and how he'd made love to Greg all night to take away the sorrow. He remembered holding him in his arms at Lake Mead and kissing him; just kissing him until there was nothing in the world except the feel, the touch and the sweet, sweet taste of his lips and mouth.

He took a deep breath. "I'm more than willing. I'm not a gambler like Warrick but even I know when it's time to take a chance on winning the jackpot of a lifetime."

It had taken more than a year; but it had all been worth it. Nick had been surprised so many times during the eighteen months he finally lost count. The first one came when he got back to work and discovered a completely different attitude towards Greg. Everyone had always had a soft spot for him but it was based on the combination of his genius and his goofy antics. He was regarded almost like an idiot savant younger brother. Now, there was an air of equality in their relationships. He almost fell off his chair when he heard Catherine ask him to come over and give her some ideas for Lindsay's new bedroom.

There was another rude awakening when he went to Greg's apartment for the first time. It was an accident. Greg's car wouldn't start. He and Greg were on a 419 at an upscale area on Greg's side of town. Grissom decided that Nick should pick Greg up on the way and they would worry about his car later. Grissom had called Greg to relay their plans and Nick had asked to speak with him before Grissom hung up. He asked Greg if he was okay with the arrangement and did he want him to just wait downstairs. Greg said no, he really needed a shower and he was pretty sure Nick would get there before he was ready so just come on upstairs. He'd leave a key outside the door, behind the plate hanging on the wall beside the door. Nick thought that sounded a little odd but he was so happy to hear Greg's lack of concern about him coming to his place he forgot in his excitement and he headed out.

When he got to Greg's place, he was surprised again at how nice the apartment complex was kept. There were flowers and grassy plots. It had been repainted since the last time Nick had been there. He went upstairs and discovered the interior walls had been painted also and Greg's door was 'RED'. What the hell! On closer inspection, it wasn't actually red it was a soft, shimmery, almost glowing red. On the wall next to the door was a ceramic plaque that read, SOM MAN REDER, SÅ LIGGER MAN. Nick remembered Greg telling him a story about how Grandpa Hojem came to America. He'd gotten Grandma Hojem pregnant and he always told Greg, Som Man Reder, Sa Ligger Man. One sleeps in the bed one has made. He chuckled out loud and carefully reached behind the plate. He felt the key, removed it and stepped into.....another time and place. This could not be Greg's apartment. There was color everywhere and flowers and candles and beautiful furniture and the place was clean. There were books and magazines on the coffee table and when Nick had done a full circle he found himself looking at the most beautiful table and mirror he'd ever seen. Nick had grown up with a family of crafters, wood workers and DIY'ers so he knew the minute he saw the table it was walnut; solid, dark gorgeous black walnut.

"Do you like it?" Greg had come into the room while Nick was lost in the feel and look of the table.

"My God Greg, this is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." Nick literally bit his tongue to keep from adding 'except for you'. "Your whole apartment is.....I just don't have words to describe it. It's so beautiful but it's so exactly like you."

Greg smiled; an open, happy genuine smile at Nick and said, "Thank you. I'm really pretty proud of it if I do say so myself. I did it but oh I had so much help from Bobby and Steve and Warrick. Even Hodges came over and not only did my counters and back-splashes but he actually taught me how to do it as well."

Nick had a whole new level of respect for his young friend, co-worker and hopefully someday lover.

Things might have gone on this way forever if Greg had not fallen through a booby trapped attic at one of their crime scene's. The board had been deliberately weakened and when Greg put his weight on the board, it gave way. He fell through the floor but while trying to get back out, he put more weight on some other boards which also gave way and he wound up hanging head down with his leg caught and his knee hyper-extended over a beam. His ligaments were badly torn and he was helpless and in a lot of pain. The doctor who treated him told his team he would have been better off if the leg had been broken. A break was a lot easier to heal that ripped and torn ligaments. He was going to be off work and in bed for weeks.

By the time they were told he would live and actually function again, Nick looked worse than he did. When the doctor said Greg could leave the hospital if he had someone with at all times for the first 2 weeks, Grissom told Nick to take a couple of nights off and get Greg home and get him settled and they would see about working up some sort of schedule to take care of him. The lab and PD had very good insurance so there would be no problem about getting a full time day nurse and for the first two weeks, they could even get a 2nd shift but that left one 8 hour shift for his friends to cover.

For Nick, it was heaven and hell to be there caring for Greg. He could pamper him and wait on him to his heart's content. And he did just that. If Greg fussed, he just pointed to the printed instructions and told him he was just following doctor's orders.

By the end of the sixth week, Greg was impossible to be around and Nick was beginning to wonder if he really did want to spend the rest of his life with this insufferable pain in his ass. Bobby came in one night and tracked Nick down to ask him if it was his night to baby sit. "Yes it is. Please tell me you want to do it instead."

"Aww, what's the matter Nicky? Is there trouble in Paradise?" Bobby could be sarcastic when he wanted to be.

"He's impossible Bobby. I know he's bored and his knee is still so red and swollen but Jesus Keerist, he's driving me insane."

"Well, I got something that might entertain him for a while. "

"OH God, please anything, anything at all to keep him from complaining just for a little while. What do you have?"

"This is season one of Torchwood."

"What the hell is Torchwood?"

"Oh that's right, you're not a Sci Fi fan are you?"

"Not really but I don't care; if it will keep him amused and entertained and QUIET I don't care what it is."

Bobby gave him a brief rundown on Torchwood, handed him the package and went back to his lab. Nick was reading the back of the jacket so he didn't see the evil little grin on Bobby's face. If he had, he might have asked a few more questions.

He got to Greg's and started his exercise in self control. Greg was really on a tear and trying to get him fed and then do his exercises and get him bathed and into clean clothes was an ordeal that left Nick with a bloody tongue and the inside of his cheek and needing a shower of his own.

He set up the DVD and got the player ready with Greg insisting every step of the way that he did not want to watch some lame cowboy movie or another bird tape. Nick turned around and said, "For God's sake Greg, you've made it perfectly clear that you don't share my interest in anything. This is from Bobby. He thought you might enjoy it. Its season one of a British show called Torchwood. He say's it's sort of a spin off from Doctor Who and that Torchwood is an anagram of Doctor Who. He thought you might like it. Now do you want to watch it or do you just want to lay here and sulk for a while."

Greg very ungraciously told him to start the damn thing. Nick said fine, he was going to go take a shower and lay down. Greg could call him if he needed anything. When Nick got everything cleaned up, the kitchen policed, himself fed and showered he headed off to bed. He listened briefly at the door but all he could hear was a man's voice saying, "The 21st century, that's when it all happens." He went to bed hoping he would get a few hours before his patient began complaining again.

Nick woke to a feeling of well being he hadn't felt since Greg was injured. He was a little groggy and it took him a while to realize he felt good because he'd slept with no interruptions at all. Wow. That's the first time that ever happened. He went to the door and looked down the hall. He could see light coming from the living room so either Greg was still watching or he'd fallen asleep watching the show. Either way, Nick's bladder was screaming for attention so he went to the bathroom, washed his hands and brushed his teeth and his hair before he headed out to see what his fussy love was up to.

Can you tell Nick's attitude towards Greg has reverted back after a good nights sleep?

He walked into the room with a smile on his face. "Hey Greggo did you like the....?"

Greg was sitting up in the hospital bed and he had tears on his cheeks. Nick rushed over to the bed. "My God Greg, what's the matter? Are you in pain? Why didn't you call me? What is it love? What do you need me to do?" Nick was frantic. Greg was just sitting there crying. Finally he turned towards Nick and said, "Nick would you do anything for me?"

"Of course I would; anything at all."

"Come sit here on the bed."

Nick moved things aside so he could sit on the bed next to Greg but Greg insisted he sit even closer. He moved up until he was almost face to face with Greg. There were no lines of pain on his face but his eyes were filled with tears. "What is it, sweetheart? What do you need?"

Greg looked at him for a long moment then he reached up, took Nicks face in his and pulled him forward until they were sharing a very sweet, salty wet kiss. Nick was sure he was still asleep and dreaming. After all, he'd dreamed about kissing Greg so many times during the last year plus, this would be nothing new but this kiss was so much better that all the others he'd dreamed. This kiss had sound and touch and taste; the wonderful taste of Greg's mouth. That taste had haunted Nick for so long that he didn't want this dream to ever end. It wasn't until he felt Greg pull back that he realized it wasn't a dream. Greg had just kissed him and I mean he had really kissed him.

"Not that I'm complaining but what was that for and why now?" Nick was afraid this was just some feverish impulse because of Greg's injury and he needed to know how to act.

"That DVD I was watching? This guy slips through a warp back into the 1940's. He's gay and he meets this really hot guy and there is instant attraction but then he finds out who the guy is and he knows he's going to be killed in the war the next day. He wants to tell the guy but back in the 40's gay's had it a lot worse than we do today but at the very end, the guy gets with the program and he pulls Captain Jack, that's the head of Torchwood, out on the dance floor and they almost kiss and then there's this huge flash of light and the portal opens up and he has to go back to 2007 because he's like the head of the group that fights aliens to keep the world safe and he can't stay with this man he's fallen so hard for and he starts to go through the portal but then he turns around and comes back and they kiss. Oh God Nick, I've never, ever seen two guys kiss like that on TV in anything. I could not believe what I was seeing. It was so sweet and hot and wonderful and you knew he was kissing the guy for the last time and that kiss would have to take the place of all their times together."

"Greg, baby please stop, take a breath. You're scaring me. That's it, take a deep breath, now take another. That's my good boy. So that kiss upset you?"

"No Nick, it didn't upset me. It made me realize; I'm waiting for all sorts of assurances from you that everything is going to be perfect. But no one can ever expect perfect. If none of the bad things had happened between us, I wouldn't have expected perfect. So why do I now? I can spend the rest of my life looking for perfect when I already have it right here, right now. I love you Nick. Let's you and me look for perfect together. Okay?"

"Oh Greg, that is so Okay. You just can't imagine how okay that is. I love you so much. Can I send your day nurse home; in fact can I just fire her and spend the day holding you and kissing you and taking care of you and looking for perfect?"

"Sounds like a plan to me. Now kiss me until she gets here and you know, if you lay her off now, you have to give her a week's severance pay."

"Baby, if I had it, I'd give her a year's severance pay but yes I know and I'll take care of it. Now can we commence the kissing until she gets here?"

"Let the kissing commence!"

* * * * * * * * * *

A loud knock brought Nick back from the past to his wonderful future. He and Greg had spent yesterday with Greg's 'foster brother' Evan Barton. They had spent hours combining their lives and fortunes. They drew up living wills and living trusts. Greg's name was now on the mortgage to Nick's house as co-owner. Their 401K's, their accounts everything was now in joint custody. If someday, their state allowed same-sex marriages, they would go through the ceremony but for now, this, followed by dinner at an expensive 4 star restaurant followed by a long session of love making on their deck in their back yard followed by the exchange of engraved white gold bands would do very nicely.

Tonight they would be celebrating with their friends; the people who wished them well now and for all time.

Nick kissed his lover, his mate, his true partner and went with him to greet their guests and welcome them to their home.

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