Title: Doppelganger
By: Jesika
Pairing: Greg/Ryan
Fandom: CSI: Vegas/CSI: Miami
Rating: NC-17
Warning: WiP
Summary: A serial killer leads the Vegas team to Miami, raising the suspicions of one CSI. Is the killer amongst the team of CSI's, or will they follow the wrong path and lose one of their own?

***

It's not his scene, never really was. Too many sweaty bodies pressed far too closely against each other, strangers' hands touching you as if it's their god-given right. He's only been to a place like this once, only lasted half an hour before he was pushing his way back out the door, his clothes smelling of alcohol and smoke, with a hint of sex from the bodies rubbing against his ass.

Now he stands back in the middle of the same club, his camera poised over the body of a young male, eyes wide and lifeless. A deep, thick cut encircles the front half of his neck, and the CSI snaps a few shots of the fatal wound before straightening back up, allowing his eyes to scan over what's left of the club goers, most having scattered upon hearing the police sirens.

It's the third body they've found this month, all with their throats cut almost to the bone by a ligature. The killer is getting more bold with each victim, the first killed silently while they slept, the second in an alley during the day, and now the latest in the middle of a club full of people.

Ryan's starting to get frustrated, unable to find any leads, feeling like this guy is mocking them. It's starting to feel like this guy is killing for the sheer fun of it, leaving the victims behind with all of their possessions, unscathed, other than the wire cutting into their throats. The fact that all of the victims are in the same age range and look almost alike says there's something more going on though, as if the killer is trying to get rid of someone from his past, or perhaps trying to get rid of those that look like himself, incapable of killing himself but instead trying to get rid of those that resemble him enough to kill them.

What's worse is the lack of evidence he leaves behind. He manages to rid the scene of any trace of himself, all except for the ligature with no DNA, no other way to trace its owner or where it might have come from.

"Let me guess, male victim in his late twenties, early thirties, with his throat sliced open by a ligature. Dark hair, skinny, between five-seven and six feet tall."

Ryan turns around in the direction of the voice, and he looks frustrated at the other CSI after quickly glancing at his watch.

"I paged you almost an hour ago, Eric, what took you so long?"

"Calm down, Wolfe, I was trying to close up on my other case. After three weeks, the prick that attacked that young girl is finally behind bars, and not a moment too soon; he was already tracking his next victim."

Ryan shakes his head and turns back to the body, wishing he could close this case already and get this lunatic off the streets. It doesn't make it any easier when crime in the area has seemed to rise in the past few weeks, pushing all of the CSIs onto different cases, forcing him to pull an exhausting amount of double and triple shifts.

At least with Eric now helping him on the case, they're able to get through the current scene much faster, soon finding themselves back at the lab with nothing much else than a few partial fingerprints that could have come from anyone in the club and the infamous ligature that has yet to give them any leads on finding the killer.

Upon arriving back at the lab, the two men are called into one of the lab's large conference rooms where a small handful of unknown people are sitting around the large table with Horatio, looking at Ryan and Eric a bit hopefully.

"What's going on, H?" Both men are perplexed, and they follow their supervisor's request when he asks them to take a seat, making sure he has the men's attention before explaining the situation.

"This is the CSI team from Las Vegas; it looks like we all may be after the same serial killer. They've got three victims, same cause of death, same lack of evidence with a single ligature. The cases have been unsolved for the past two years, but now it looks like our guy is back, and it's time we catch him. This is Gil Grissom, he's the supervisor of the Las Vegas night shift, and he's going to catch us up on what looks like this guy's first victims out in Nevada. From his shift he's also brought with him Catherine Willows, Warrick Brown, Nick Stokes, Sara Sidle, and Greg Sanders."

After a quick wave from the CSIs, all attention turns to Grissom, the oldest CSI passing around copies of the case files from Vegas, allowing everyone to go along with him while he explains what they hope to be this guy's first victim.

"In late 2002, we recovered the body of a twenty-eight year old homeless man by the name of Josh Matthews. He was found in a heavily wooded area outside of Vegas, killed by strangulation with a ligature. By the time he was found by some tourists, his body had become heavily decayed, and any DNA left behind on the ligature had deteriorated beyond use. There were some traces of footprints leading to and from the area that the body was found, but a heavy rainfall after the man had been killed erased anything of use. Defense wounds were located, but no DNA, no signs of sexual trauma, all clothing and possessions were still intact."

Other than the fact that the Miami team's first victim was found in an alley instead of a wooded and secluded area, everything else almost matches up. Although there was no rainfall before the discovery of the body in the alley, there was no DNA evidence found at all, the victims possessions still on his person.

"Our second victim was found in early 2003 in his car outside of a nightclub."

Catherine starts the description of the second victim, Ryan flipping through the new case file to look over the crime scene photos, finding that the victim looks not only like the Miami victims, but also surprisingly familiar to the Las Vegas CSI sitting across from him. They're both in their late twenties, early thirties, dark spiked hair, dark eyes. There's something a little mysterious about both of them, and Ryan has to force himself to look away when the other CSI realizes that someone's staring at him.

"The victim is twenty-seven year old Michael Stans, and he had just started at one of the top law firms in the county. He went out with some friends but left early because he had to work early in the morning. His car was located at the back of the parking lot away from all the commotion of the club. His body was found later by his friends whose cars were parked on either side of his. He was strangled from the backseat by a heavy rope, no DNA found at all on the murder weapon or under the victim's fingernails; we believe the killer was wearing black leather gloves based on some fibers we identified from the rope. As with the first victim, all clothes were intact, all possessions left behind, and no sexual assault was identified."

"Third victim, Thomas Elliot, found in a hotel room."

Warrick takes over now, and once again Ryan finds too many similarities between the victim and the Vegas CSI in front of him. It sends chills down his spine, and he has to force himself to look at the picture in front of him to keep up with the CSI talking.

"The victim was a twenty-eight year old bartender from New York, in town for a friend's wedding. The maid cleaning the hotel room found his body in the bathtub of his room, face down with no clothes on and the shower running. This time the victim was strangled with a thin wire that was twisted at the back of his neck to the point of cutting through his skin and embedding into his trachea. No valuable possessions were found, but his friends said that he was gambling pretty heavily at the casino earlier in the day, and that the victim pawned his watch and a valuable necklace for money. No signs of sexual assault, and no traces of DNA. We're still unsure of how the killer got into the room, witnesses say the victim went in alone, and they didn't see anyone else go in afterwards."

The room full of CSIs takes a moment to absorb all of the information and go through the case files on the Vegas victims, Ryan's eyes occasionally glancing up to the man across from him before returning to the pictures of lifeless bodies.

"Are there any questions so far?"

No one says anything for a moment in response to Horatio's question, but finally Eric speaks up, turning to the case file for the first victim.

"What kind of ligature was our first victim killed with?"
"We found a small rope wrapped around his neck. We believe this was his first victim because of the way the rope was at the ends, as if it broke several times in the process of strangulating the victim. We performed an experiment using the same type of rope at our lab, and if the victim was struggling enough, it could have taken the killer several tries of breaking the rope before he got it. For the second victim he used a tougher rope, he learned from his previous kill, and eventually, he moved to the pliable wire."

"And you said DNA was too degraded on the first victim, right?"

"I personally handled all of the DNA on all three cases. I checked and re-checked several times, I came up with nothing each time."

Attention focuses on Greg as he speaks, the former lab tech getting a bit defensive. Ryan picks up on it immediately, his eyebrows raising briefly before Horatio cuts in to explain the Miami victims, the supervisor wanting to get everything covered so that they can go out and find this guy.

"Alright, our first victim was found only two weeks ago, thirty year old Tom Rosley. He was found in his bed, wire tightened around his neck to the point of near decapitation. Autopsy determined that the victim was asleep, there were no signs of forced entry, no witnesses saw anybody enter or leave his home. Just as with all the other victims, there was no sign of sexual assault, no obvious theft of possessions.

Second victim was found last week. Thirty year old John Kincaid, found in an alley during the middle of the day with the same type of wire tightened around his neck. He was found by a restaurant owner, all possessions still on him, no sexual assault, no DNA evidence. We have a witness that saw someone leaving the alley shortly after the time of death, but we don't yet have any leads on the man's identity."

"Third victim was found just this morning."

Ryan finally takes over, all attention focuses on him with a lack of case file copies to look at. Since the case is so fresh, he takes a moment to flip through his notes, finding a witness statement that he remembers being of some use.

"The victim is thirty-one year old Todd Kayhill, killed by strangulation. It seems that our killer is starting to take chances - he killed Mr. Kayhill in the middle of a very popular club. Our prime witness says she was dancing when she felt someone behind her, like they were trying to push her down. When she turned around, the guy was holding his throat, and he was covered in blood. By the time the paramedics got there, he was already dead. His body arrived at the morgue a short time ago, I was on my way down there when you called me in here."

"A crowd full of people... someone must have seen the guy who did this."

"Well, if anyone did, they either scattered when they heard the police sirens, or they're not talking. We questioned everyone that was left at the club when we got there, only the lady that the guy fell on really saw the victim, and a few other people around at the time. I've asked the police to show everyone a sketch of the suspect our last victim witnessed from the Kincaid case."

This should be it, the case that breaks the lead, how could it not be when the guy was killed in a room full of people? But yet, they're still coming up empty, and Ryan can only hope that just maybe they might get a little further with this one after they've gotten more time to go over everything.

"This guy's currently got six murders under his belt that we know of, and we need to stop him before he adds another victim to the list. With the Vegas team here, hopefully we can close in on him faster. For now(,) we've only got Ryan and Eric on our team, our other CSIs are handling other cases, so we have to pair up the best we can. Mr. Grissom, Ms. Willows, I'd like to gather all the evidence we have so far on all of the victims and go over it thoroughly, there's got to be something in there that we're missing. We also need to put some sort of timeline together and figure out why this guy went underground for two years before coming here. Maybe then we can get some sort of idea of who this guy is before he decides to go into hiding again.

Eric, I want you and Mr. Stokes to start going over the evidence from the club. There were a lot of people there so there's going to be quite a bit of stuff to go through. Ms. Sidle, Mr. Brown, I'll have one of our detectives get with you, I'd like you to try and track down as many people that you can that were at that club last night that weren't questioned by the police. Ryan, you and Mr. Sanders go down to the morgue and talk to Alexx, see what she's got on our latest victim."

Horatio hands out the assignments, and no one complains as they stand up, gathering the information they have before spreading out. Ryan and Greg are the last ones left in the room, and Ryan watches the other man gather his stuff together, something a bit off about him as he rounds the table and extends his hand.

"Looks like we'll be working close until we get this guy. We should probably get down to the morgue, I don't think neither of our bosses want to spend too much time on this case at the risk of getting another victim."

Ryan nods wordlessly, there's something about this guy he can't figure out. Maybe it's the fact that he looks so much like the victims, or that he got so defensive when the DNA results were questioned, or maybe it's just something else all together. Whatever it is, Ryan can't dwell on it right now, instead leading the way down to the morgue where Alexx Woods is in the process of finishing up the examination of their latest victim.

"Alexx, this is Greg Sanders, he's here from Las Vegas helping us on the case along with the rest of their team."

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Sanders, Horatio just informed me that this guy isn't new to murder. It sounds like he perfected his technique in Vegas before coming out here."

"That means we've got the same results as our other vics? Murder by strangulation, all possessions still located on the body, and no sexual assault?"

"Well, this guy may have perfected his technique in Vegas, but he may have just made a big slip up."

Ryan looks at the coroner questioningly as Alexx turns around and grabs something from her counter, turning back around to lay out a pair of jeans on an empty table. There's a small amount of blood just on the backside of them, and both Ryan and Greg examine it carefully before straightening back up, Ryan looking at Greg suspiciously when the other man responds to what he sees.

"Our vic was sexually assaulted."

Looking at the blood stains alone, the thought of sexual assault wouldn't have initially crossed Ryan's mind, but it seems that Greg hit the nail right on the head as Alexx nods.

"I found tearing around the anus; Mr. Kayhill was sexually assaulted prior to being strangled. His pants were pulled up and zipped up, but the button was left undone. I'm thinking he was raped somewhere in the club where no one saw, and as he was trying to make his escape, that's when he was strangled. I sent the rape kit up to be analyzed, told them to make it top priority, and they should be done soon."

"Anal tearing doesn't exactly mean this guy was raped. Maybe it was his first time with a guy."

"This doesn't look like the type of damage you'd receive from it being the first encounter if it were consensual. There's massive tearing in and around the area."

It may be rape, but Ryan's still unsure if this is the act of their killer. He's never sexually assaulted any of his other victims, why this one?

"Could he have been raped by someone else and then strangled by our killer on the way out of the club?"

"That's possible. The strangulation and rape occurred at two different times."

As Ryan and Alexx continue talking, Ryan watches Greg visually analyzing the body, eventually moving back over to it before turning towards the coroner.

"Did you find any DNA under his nails? Any defense wounds?"

"All the trace from his nails have been sent up to the lab. The only thing I found that is out of the ordinary is the bruise across his abdomen. It's fresh, no more than a few hours, or less, before he was killed. The shape and size of the bruise is indicative of being pushed against or over something, maybe a table-"

"Or a sink?"

Both Ryan's and Alexx's eyes focus on Greg, but the Vegas CSI is looking at the body again, more specifically, the bruising he initially noticed upon first inspection of the body.

"What kind of club was this guy found in?"

"I'm not sure exactly. The owner says there are several different types that go in there, he said it's a pretty open place. Sometimes people mistake it for a hotel room or the back of a car and start going at it like they don't have a packed club for an audience, but he says his security is pretty good about breaking that stuff up before it can get too far."

"What about the bathroom, how's the security around there?"

"I didn't ask, I didn't think there really was a reason to. Did I miss something?"

"Security is usually pretty good about the predominant crowd in the club, around the bar or on the dance floor, but they usually don't think twice about the bathrooms, which is where most anything happens. The bruising on our vic's abdomen is about the same height as a sink in most restrooms, it's got the same consistency as well."

"If it happened in the restroom, wouldn't someone try and stop the guy?"

"It would have given the victim a chance to escape and try to run."

"People in these types of clubs go by a don't ask, don't tell policy. Seeing two guys going at it in a restroom, it's usually not out of the norm in this type of club, everyone just goes on with their business, ignores it."

Ryan's suspicions about the other man are becoming increasingly heightened, Greg making correct assumptions of the club that Ryan didn't even describe in the case review. It's like Greg was there, and that thought alone makes the Miami CSI shiver just enough that Alexx notices it but Greg doesn't.

"We need to go back to that scene and check the bathroom. If the victim was in there, we might be able to get another clue as to who our killer is."

***

Ryan watches from across the bathroom as Greg kneels in front of the sink, carefully brushing over the porcelain with fingerprint powder, trying to backup his theory that the victim was sexually assaulted here by the killer. It's the first area he went to when they came into the club, the Vegas CSI heading right to the sink in the corner before making his way down the line, working silently with is attention focused solely on what's in front of him.

The more Ryan hangs around him, the more put off he seems by the other man's behavior, becoming increasingly suspicious. He feels like Greg knows a little too much about the latest break in the case, and he makes a mental note to try and get a background check on him, see if there's more than the other man is letting on about himself.

Greg carefully lifts several fingerprints from the last sink and tucks them away in his case, pulling out a few swabs before straightening back up and swabbing the inside of the sink. As he does so, he notices Ryan staring at him in the reflection of the mirror, and he suddenly stops his actions, curious as to why the other CSI is making him the center of his attention.

"What?"

Ryan is so caught up in his thoughts that he doesn't notice Greg's attention turn towards him, and he jumps slightly when the silence of the bathroom is broken by the question directed his way. It catches him off guard, and he stumbles for something to say, the first words that come to his mind leaving his lips before he can even stop them.

"How do you know so much about this?"

He silently curses himself even before all the words leave his mouth, and Greg slowly closes the cap on the swab before turning around so that they're looking at each other face to face instead of through the reflection in the mirror. For a moment, an awkward silence plagues the bathroom, Greg standing silently, almost as if he's trying to come up with a reply to the question, an excuse, Ryan thinks.

Just as Greg is finally about to reply, the door to the bathroom opens, both men's eyes going to the new addition to their little group as Sara and Warrick walk in, looking at the two men with questioning gazes.

Ryan's eyes scan back over to Greg just in time to see a look of relief cross the other CSI's face, and now he's definitely convinced that something's going on with this guy, something that's not right.

"What are you guys doing here? I thought all of the evidence was already collected."

"We got a new lead, the killer added a new crime to his resume."

As he speaks, Greg kneels down to put the swab in his kit, avoiding eye contact with the others in the room as he does so.

"Our latest victim was sexually assaulted, we believe it happened in here right before he was killed."

Greg believes it happened in here, but Ryan doesn't know what he thinks, unsure of whether or not he wants to believe anything Greg says. The other man doesn't exactly rub him the right way, and he has to keep a close eye on his words, tempted to correct Greg to say your latest victim.

It's a harsh accusation, but Ryan's instincts are screaming at him, telling him that Greg knows way too much about the latest victim for it just to be a coincidence. Not to mention that the victims look very similar to the Vegas CSI, and Ryan knows plenty of psychological reasons that someone would kill those that look like themselves.

The thoughts alone send a chill to his bones, and Ryan almost stumbles back when Greg speaks again, directing his question in the Miami CSI's direction.
"Did you find anything yet?"

Ryan feels like he's under a microscope with three sets of unfamiliar eyes staring at him, and he swallows roughly before shaking his head.

"Just a bunch of fingerprints, nothing out of the ordinary when you're talking about the door to a stall. This place is surprisingly clean otherwise."

"We should probably get this back to the lab then and see what comes up. I'm sure Grissom and Horatio will be wanting an update on the latest findings."

Ryan nods before kneeling down to repack his kit, ignoring the eyes that are still staring at him. He feels highly uncomfortable being the focus of everyone's attention, and he feels like the walls are closing in on him as he grabs his kit and leaves the restroom, leaves the penetrating stares behind.

"Hey, Ryan!"

The Miami CSI sighs as he reaches his car and hears Greg's voice calling from behind him, the other man coming up behind him and slipping his kit in next to Ryan's in the trunk.

"You alright, man? You seemed kind of spacey back there."

"I'm fine."

He doesn't like the close proximity in which Greg is standing next to him, and he closes the trunk before walking around to the driver's side of the car, getting in as Greg takes a hint and does the same.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

He does, but not to those who could be somehow involved in the killings of at least six people. He knows he's jumping the gun, especially since the victims were killed in two different states, but he just can't help the feeling gnawing at him. Something's just not right about this guy, and he isn't going to say more than he has to until he knows what it is, so he lies to Greg's question.

"I'm just tired and frustrated with this case. We're not really getting far."

"We're getting further than we did with the other five victims. I think his being sexually assaulted might have broken the case wide open."

"You sound a little too thrilled that this guy was raped."

It slips out before Ryan can stop it, and he forces himself to keep his eyes on the road, avoiding seeing the glare that Greg is shooting his way.

"I think you should go back to not talking."

The words are said in anger, and Ryan knows he deserves it, his comment causing even himself to wince.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Do you have a problem with me or something? You keep staring at me, you don't say anything, and you're accusing me of enjoying what happens to these victims. If you've got something to say to me, then say it."

This time, he knows better than to say anything. He keeps his mouth shut and his eyes focused on the road, thankful that they're almost at the lab. He feels like a bit of a coward for not saying anything to Greg in response to his comments, but he knows he might be saving himself in the long run by keeping his mouth shut.

Greg doesn't say anything else when he realizes Ryan's not going to respond, and he forces himself to look away from the younger man and out the passenger side window, throwing the car into silence.

As soon as they arrive back at the lab, Greg gathers the evidence from his kit and walks into the lab, leaving Ryan outside by his car as he watches the Vegas CSI disappear into the building.

When he finally gathers his own stuff and makes his way into the lab, Greg is nowhere in sight, and Ryan sighs as he makes his way to the fingerprint lab, dropping off what he collected before turning in the direction of the conference room where he's sure Horatio is with the other two Vegas CSIs.

On his way to the conference room, Ryan happens to glance into the DNA lab and finds Greg talking to the tech, the Miami CSI going unnoticed as he stops in the middle of the hallway and stares at the older CSI. That gnawing feeling is starting to scream at him as he watches Greg prepare the DNA sample from the bathroom sink himself, the DNA tech allowing him to do so as he works on other samples.

"Hey, Wolfe, H is waiting for you, he heard about the possible break in the case."

Ryan almost jumps clear off his feet when Eric appears in front of him, and he grabs his chest as he tries to catch his breath, glaring as he does so.

"Damn, don't sneak up on me like that."

"You're standing in the middle of the hallway, I wouldn't exactly call that sneaking up on you. What's going on with you, man, why are you so jumpy?"

Ryan lets his gaze drift over Eric's shoulder to get another glimpse of Greg, but he quickly averts his gaze when Eric sees the action and turns to look behind him. When he turns back, he's got his eyebrows raised in confusion, and Ryan quickly shakes his head, mumbling 'nothing' before heading back off down the hallway.

He doesn't want to tell anyone else of his fears about the Vegas CSI until he gets some hard proof behind his theory, he knows what could happen if he were to make these sort of accusations without having anything to back it up, so he goes in search of the one person he thinks he might be able to trust.

He finds Calleigh going over some evidence on the murder case she's working on, and he closes the door to the lab she's in, causing her to look up from the papers she's sorting through.

"Ryan, what's up? How's your serial killer case going?"

"I think there's more to it than we think."

The look on his face is slightly paranoid, and Calleigh pushes what she's doing to the side, focusing her attention on the younger CSI as he moves so that he's standing closer to her, looking around briefly like he's afraid someone's watching him.

"Ryan, are you alright?"

"I'm fine, I just- I need you to do me a really big favor, off the records for now."

The way he's acting is starting to make her feel paranoid as well as he looks around again, and she can't help but nod, wondering what's gotten her colleague acting like this.

"This guy from Vegas, Greg Sanders, something's not right about him. I need you to see if you can find out anything about him, find out where he was the past few weeks."

"Ryan, what's going on? I just can't start investigating another CSI because he rubs you the wrong way."

"I think he's involved with our serial killer case somehow."

The response catches her totally off guard, and she can only stare at the younger CSI for several moments, trying to figure out whether he's really serious about this.

"That's a very serious accusation. What makes you think he's part of this?"

"I can't really explain it. I've been with this guy all day, he seems to know more about the case with our latest victim than I do, and he wasn't even there. He looks like all of the victims, and he's just- there's something not right about all of this. I just need you to do a little checking for me, and I need you to keep this between us for now."

"Ryan, I could lose my job if Horatio finds out about this."

"I'll take full responsibility for it if he finds out, but we're talking about six victims here, six people that were brutally killed for no good reason. I don't want to risk missing this lead because I let the fact that he's a fellow CSI put me off."

She has to think about it for a moment, she's not sure she wants to risk her job for this, but the look in Ryan's eyes shows how serious he is, a hint of fear showing through as well.

"Fine, I'll do it, but if I go down for it, you're going right there with me. You'd better be right about this."

He quickly thanks her, a bit unsure of how Horatio is going to react if he finds out about this, and he leaves the lab to head back in the direction he was originally going.

When he reaches the conference room, he finds Horatio with CSI Willows and Grissom, the room transformed completely as photos of the victims and crime scenes line the wall, a large dry erase board on one side filled with a time line and other information, and the large table covered with bags of evidence.

Seeing it all laid out like this makes a little more impact on the CSIs than before when they were just looking at case files and single photos. Now it's at a much bigger scale, and Ryan can't help but walk speechlessly around the room, taking everything in.

He stops at the rows of pictures of each victim, feeling like the Vegas CSI is staring back at him. When he can't stand to look at them anymore, he turns away from them and towards Horatio, the supervisor going over the latest on their most recent victims.

"Mr. Wolfe, were you and Mr. Sanders able to get any evidence from the bathroom at the crime scene?"

"I pulled some fingerprints, Greg pulled some as well and swabbed a sample from the sinks, possible DNA."

"Where is Mr. Sanders now?"

"He's running DNA on the swabs."

The answer catches the older CSIs off guard, more so with Horatio than the others, and he sets the case file down that he's looking at.

"Why's he running the DNA himself?"

"Because he's one of the best in the country, and this case means more to him than anyone else that's working it."

The comment causes Ryan to snap his head in Catherine's direction, Horatio not looking quite as surprised by the woman's response, as if he already knows what she's going to say.

"How so?"

"Because Greg was with the second Vegas victim at the club shortly before he was murdered, and he was the first one to find the body."

***

The response is totally unexpected, and Ryan can only stare at the older woman for several moments, finally pulling his gaze away to look at the picture nearby of Michael Stans. He's not sure what to say, the latest news completely throwing off the thoughts and suspicions he has of Greg. Would the older CSI really kill his own friend?

The thought only spins him into a new line of internal questions, and Ryan feels a headache coming on as he forces himself to look away from the picture, away from the evidence of the case laid out on the table. He thinks that now he's really starting to blow this out of proportion, there are plenty of reasons why Greg couldn't have done this, and Ryan forces himself to repeat that list in his head, telling himself to calm down and to back off the theory.

He does so just in time, calming his breathing as the door to the conference room opens, and Eric steps in. He hands several papers to Horatio, and the supervisor looks over them before shaking his head and handing them back to Eric.

"No DNA was found on the ligature from the latest victim, nor was any found in the rape kit, the suspect wore a condom. Ryan, go to the DNA lab and tell Greg to put a rush on the samples, we're running out of evidence on this case."

The youngest CSI quickly departs from the room, and soon he finds himself walking into the DNA lab where Greg is now standing by himself, waiting for whatever he's waiting on to finish. He looks up when he hears the door open, but he doesn't give Ryan much acknowledgement when he realizes who it is, instead folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the counter.

"H sent me to check on the test results, have you gotten anything yet?"

"They're not finished."

Ryan nods as silence falls on the room, and he suddenly feels guilty for thinking Greg could have done all of this. He's known the guy for less than twenty-four hours and he's already thinking of him as a killer when there are more reasons than not to prove he's innocent, the primary, being that the latest victims were killed in Miami, roughly twenty-six thousand miles from where Greg lives.

"I didn't realize that you had a personal interest in this case. Catherine Willows told me that you knew the second victim."

"It's not something I like to advertise. The more I avoid making a big deal out of it, the smaller my chances are of being taken off the case. It's something I want to prevent from happening."

"I didn't mean to imply that you had something to do with the cases earlier."

In reality he did, but now he realizes he shouldn't have let himself jump to such conclusions, especially without any facts, which he still lacks at this point. Although a part of him still feels a little off about everything, he pushes it aside, instead waiting to see what Calleigh turns up before further getting himself out of sorts.

Greg shrugs his shoulders and goes quiet again, and Ryan can tell he's not exactly forgiving about what happened earlier, although Ryan knows he wouldn't be either if he were faced with such accusations.

"Have you looked at it as more than just a case since it happened?"

The question is sincere, and Greg is caught off guard by it, looking at Ryan for several moments before going back to staring blankly at the machine running the DNA tests.

"That's the only way I can look at it until the case is over."

Ryan moves to say something in response, but the printer nearby begins to print the results of the DNA tests, and Greg quickly grabs for them, his eyes scanning over it. The look on his face makes it obvious that the results aren't conclusive, and the Miami CSI feels like a wedge just continues to be pushed between them and the killer, putting a greater distance between where they're at now and how far they are away from catching him.

"We should go let H know the results, see what he wants to do now."

Greg agrees, and the men walk side by side until they reach the conference room, Greg stopping suddenly just as they step into the room. Ryan doesn't notice it at first, but when he does, he turns to see Greg looking around the room, eyes wide as they stop on the crime scene photos of Michael Stans.

"Greg?"

The sound of Catherine's voice seems to snap him back to reality, all eyes on him as he looks at his superiors before taking several steps into the room.

"I'm fine. Just caught off guard. I've got the test results from the bathroom back, they all came up negative."

Greg tries to brush past his momentary zone out, handing the papers over to Grissom for the CSI to look over. As he does so, Ryan notices how he tries to avoid looking around the room anymore than he has to, standing back and waiting while Grissom reads the results before handing them off to Horatio.

"We're not getting much further with this case than we have with the others. Our only hope rests on those fingerprints and whatever witnesses we can track down."

Horatio isn't usually one to look towards the negative side of things, but they all feel like they're butting their heads against brick walls with this case. Once they think they might have a lead, it turns out false. The suspect has killed a man in the middle of a very crowded club, and yet they're still not getting any further than the previous victims.

"There's no reason to keep everyone on this right now. Greg and Ryan, you can go for now, get some sleep, we'll call you if we find anything else. Eric and Nick can go as well for now; they've already gone through what little amount of evidence we have, but we still need to catch up with Sara and Warrick to see what they've got."

Grissom agrees, and Ryan sees a look of relief pass over Greg's face, just as it does his own. The endless amount of double shifts he's been pulling lately is starting to wear him out, and all he wants to do right now is eat and go to sleep.

It's the primary thought on his mind as the youngest CSIs walk out of the Miami lab, and Ryan can't help but offer to buy Greg dinner, in an attempt to make up for what happened earlier in the day. He does his best to continue and force his suspicions down, Greg accepting the offer as they get into the car.

"What are you in the mood for?"

"Something simple, I'm not really in the mood to go out anywhere. How's the pizza around here?"

"I know a place. Do you drink?"

Greg nods and Ryan realizes that this is just about the most interaction they've had with each other all day. He realizes it's not so bad when they're both too tired to do anything but relax back into their seats, and the more he thinks about it, the more the suspicions fade further from his mind.

"I've got some beer at my place, we can order a couple of pizzas and relax."

It's only after Greg agrees that Ryan realizes he has just invited the older man back to his place, but he forces that aside, driving the few short blocks to his place. Not many people have been here before, he's usually too busy with work to have any visitors, but the apartment is clean, nonetheless, as he pushes the door open, waiting for Greg to come in behind him before closing and locking it.

"Make yourself comfortable, I'll go order the pizza. You want anything specific?"

"Pepperoni's fine."

Ryan disappears into the kitchen, and Greg makes his way towards the living room after kicking his shoes off at the door. The apartment is a decent size, one wall lined with a large bookshelf stocked with everything including pictures and magazines, a stereo, and of course, books. Greg lets his eyes scan over everything, looking over the CDs sitting on the bookshelf for a moment before crossing the room and sitting on the couch, hearing Ryan on the phone in the other room.

Greg's not really sure what he's doing here, he's seen the way Ryan has been acting around him, but he tries to trust the other man. This whole case has put him through enough already, more than anyone could understand, more than he wants anyone to know.

Ryan enters the living room after ordering the pizza, cutting off Greg's thoughts as he offers the older man a beer. Greg accepts and takes a drink from the long neck, allowing his body to relax into the couch as Ryan sits down nearby, the room falling silent for a moment before Ryan decides to take a chance and tread on thin waters.

"How well did you and Michael Stans know each other?"

The question catches Greg off guard. He figures that he has made his point clear earlier that he didn't want to talk about it, but he has a feeling that Ryan's not going to let it go very easily. If he can't make the younger man forget about it though, he figures he can use it to his advantage, to make Ryan talk about something that he might not want to.

"I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."

Ryan doesn't agree at first, instead taking a moment to think it over as he takes another drink of his beer. He's not sure what kind of questions Greg could have for him, but he figures it's only fair, and he nods, agreeing to the deal.

"I knew him for about six months before he was killed. Did you lie when you said you've never been to the club where your third victim was found?"

Greg knows he's onto something as soon as he asks the question, seeing a fleeting look in Ryan's eyes before he forces it into one of confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"The club we went to earlier for more evidence. When you walked in, it's obvious that you have some sort of history there."

Ryan knows quite well what club Greg is talking about, but he hopes he can play it off. The look Greg's giving him now though says he's not going to go for it, so he shrugs, suddenly becoming interested in the label on his beer that he's peeling off.

"I've been there once before. What kind of relationship did you have with Michael Stans?"

Ryan tries to move the subject back over to Greg to not only deflect the attention from himself, but also to find out more about what kind of involvement Greg has with this case.

"We hooked up quite a few times. What happened at that club to make you look like you wanted to run from it the moment we walked in?"

It's going too fast, and Ryan wants it to stop. He's not as open of a person as Greg seems to be, and he downs the rest of his beer before standing up, ignoring Greg's question as he walks into the kitchen.

He bends over into the fridge to grab another, and when he straightens back up, Greg is standing behind him, leaning against the kitchen counter with an empty bottle sitting next to him. Ryan gets him another refill as well before shutting the refrigerator and turning to face Greg, leaning up against the counter across from the older man.

"You didn't answer my question. What happened at the club to make you want to run from it?"

***

"I've been there once before, a while back. Did you sleep with Michael Stans the night he was killed?"

Ryan doesn't really want to play this game anymore, and Greg seems to pick up on that as the men stare at each other for several moments. He thinks that just maybe, Greg will answer the question and stop it there, but he does neither as he nurses the beer in his hand, something appearing in his eyes as he tries to lure Ryan in.

"You don't seem like the kind of person to go to that type of club, or any club really."

"Work makes you do things that you normally wouldn't consider. A friend kept trying to get me to go, and one night I just wanted a break from the job, to let loose and relax. I dressed down a little and went out there."

"And?"

And Ryan doesn't really want to tell the rest. He doesn't feel like he should even have to if Greg's not going to play fair, the older man dodging his question, but for how long?

"Did you have sex with Michael Stans the night he was killed?"

It resurfaces, and Greg's initial response is to shrug, finally taking a drink of the beer that he's been holding for the past several minutes.

"It was pretty much a guarantee that we were going to have sex anytime we were near each other."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"You didn't answer mine. What happened at the club?"

It's come down to a matter of who's going to finally crack first, and Ryan feels himself slowly withering down as Greg stares at him, directly into his eyes, barely even blinking or losing eye contact when he takes another drink of his beer.

Ryan's eyes are becoming glazed as he drains his beer and goes in for another, and Greg thinks that maybe the younger man's going to wake up in the morning with a headache and the faint recollection that he told someone something that, it seems, he's been keeping inside for a while. Greg wants to know everything that happened at the club though, he wants to use it and twist it around, but first he's got to get it out of Ryan.

"It's obvious that you're keeping whatever it is inside. Why don't you just tell me what happened at the club?"

He tries a psychological approach, and he can see in Ryan's eyes as the younger man slowly crumbles, casting his gaze down to his beer for a moment before he looks up again, avoiding Greg's stare.

"When I first got to the club, I ordered a few drinks and went to a table to watch everyone dance. At first I was over-thinking, being an investigator instead of just someone hanging out at a club. I was watching every little thing my eyes would land on, hands forcing themselves against other people, the amount of drinks one person was ingesting, thinking that any of those people could be a part of my next case."

Greg knows that feeling all too well, especially when he first transitioned into a CSI. He remembers looking at someone and knowing that soon they'd be one of their next victims, another name on a case file.

"How many drinks before you stopped being a criminalist and started acting like a normal person?"

Ryan knows he's saying too much. He knows that this has gone far past where he wanted it to, but he can't get himself to stop, wanting to tell someone after keeping it inside for this long.

"It wasn't really the drinks."

Oh? Greg sets the beer he's been nursing on the counter, watching Ryan's face flush a little as he remembers the events of that night, starting to become embarrassed.

"I was leaning against this table, and every once in a while, people would just bump into me. It wasn't really a big deal until I felt someone pressing against me, but they didn't move away. They started to rub against my ass and grabbed my hips."

"That's when you left?"

Greg already knows the answer but he wants Ryan to say it, wants to see how far the other CSI will take his confession. It's quite obvious by now that he's not comfortable with his hidden sexuality, one that Greg picked up on almost immediately, and the older CSI can only hope that by getting this out in the open, that it'll make things a little easier when he makes a move on Ryan.

"I didn't exactly leave. At first, I tried to pull away from the guy, but when I realized he wasn't going to budge, I just braced myself. I kept my hands on the table and closed my eyes; I just wanted it to end. He never did anything more than just rub himself against me, and when he finally let go, I escaped the club as quickly as I could."

In the span of Ryan recounting the most embarrassing details, Greg has closed the short space between them and is now standing right in front of Ryan, the other man not realizing just how close they are until he finally lifts his eyes to those in front of him.

"Just because you ran, doesn't mean you didn't enjoy what he was doing to you. Did you enjoy it?"

Ryan's breath catches at the soft seductive voice Greg is using, his mind starting to spin when he realizes just how close their lips are to each other.

"When I got home, there was semen in my boxers. I don't remember coming."

And the space is finally closed, a muffled squeak leaving Ryan's lips when Greg closes the gap between them and assaults the other man's mouth with his own. It takes a moment for Ryan to finally respond, his hands lazily holding Greg's hips as he feels himself being moved away from the counter, across the kitchen, and over to the dining area.

Within no time, Greg's lips are moving down to Ryan's neck, sucking a hot trail up to his ear, before suddenly turning the other man around in his arms and pushing him against the dining room table. Ryan's hands instinctively go out to brace himself against the hands that are on his hips and the warm body that's grinding up against his, creating a sense of déjà vu.

"Greg, what are you doing?"

"Relax, it's just you and me. I think we should do a little bit of reenactment to see just how much you liked what that guy did to you."

Ryan wants to push Greg away, but he can't deny the feeling he's getting at the pit of his stomach, instead forcing him to moan and nod, closing his eyes when the older man tells him to do so.

"Keep your eyes closed, and pretend that you're back at that club, with all those people around you. Do you enjoy this feeling?"

He can see it all too well, people's eyes upon him as he remains braced, his face flushing as he nods and pushes back, wanting more. The hands are on his hips, holding tightly, the body behind him rubbing against his ass. His cheeks flush with embarrassment when a moan escapes, and those eyes penetrate him further, watching him push back against the assaulter, letting his head fall forward and becoming submissive to whatever it is the other man has planned for him.

One hand leaves his hip to travel up his side, massaging the skin briefly on its journey back down before it slips under the material of his shirt. Short nails rake along his skin as his shirt is pushed up his back, and Ryan's fingers curl against the tabletop when he feels the other hand moving down around the front of his waist, the tops of the other man's fingers grazing briefly across his skin before moving in to slip the button of the jeans out of it's confines, the sound of his zipper opening echoing in his ears.

The beat of the music in his head has fallen in rhythm with his fast beating heart, and he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, trying to keep his emotions in as the hands suddenly return to their original starting place on his hips.

The movements are slow, calculated, meant to tease him, and he can feel his eyes roll into the back of his head before returning to position behind his lids, his knuckles stark white against the tabletop as the stranger's fingers slip into the combined material of his boxers and jeans, pulling them down just far enough so that they expose his ass, barely restraining his erection in the front.

It's easy for Greg to see that Ryan's put himself back there, in that club, against that table, and the Las Vegas CSI wants to keep him there, making sure his movements flow, keeping his voice silent.

His hands move to perfect hips to massage the tan ass, his thumb teasing the center of his ass and feeling the other man arching up. Ryan allows a strangled moan to escape, his defenses beginning to crumble when the digit slips past the material and circles around his tight anus, teasing him as the tip nudges against the ring of muscles before it's pulled back.

Ryan can't believe he's allowing himself to be violated like this, but he can't make the stranger stop, not when it feels so good, not when his boxers and jeans start to slide further down his hips, finally pooling at his ankles.

He knows he should be highly embarrassed by this, but the cool breeze suddenly hitting his stiff cock keeps his mind occupied, his body thrusting forward, causing his leaking erection to rub against the edge of the table.

Greg has to keep Ryan's hips steady to prevent the other man from getting off on the table edge, waiting until he relaxes before he goes back to the teasing, resting one hand on the lower back and allowing the index finger of the other to return to it's journey down the middle of his ass, ghosting over Ryan's anus and continuing until he reaches the area right behind the balls.

Ryan doesn't know how much longer he can take the teasing, his eyes spasming under the lids, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands, and his body already covered in a thick layer of sweat. The sound of a Zippo lighter flicking open behind Ryan catches his attention, and he has to try hard to keep his eyes closed as the smell of smoke suddenly assaults his senses.

Greg holds a cigarette between his lips, giving the room more of a club vibe as he sets his pack of cigarettes on the table, one hand still on Ryan's back as he pulls his pants down, just low enough for his erection to spring free.

He continues to tease by fisting the base of his shaft and rubbing the head of his erection against Ryan's ass, feeling the other man trying to push back, inching them both closer to that pleasurable edge.

When neither men can stand the teasing anymore, Greg exhales a plume of smoke from around the cigarette and pushes Ryan further against the table, forcing the younger man's legs further apart before nudging the tip of his erection against Ryan's hole.

Just when he thinks he's going to be fucked dry, Ryan hears a raspy voice demand him to spit, feeling a hand in front of his face. And after a hesitant moment, he reluctantly does so, trying to prepare himself as he feels the man behind him getting ready to insert himself.

The first push in allows the head of Greg's erection to slip past the tight seal of Ryan's ass, and he feels the other man tense up under him, Ryan letting out a painful gasp as he reaches for the edge of the table, holding it tightly as he forces himself to take several deep breaths.

When Greg thinks he's ready, he pushes further into Ryan's tight ass, the cigarette between his lips quickly burning down as he concentrates on the other man's reactions, looking for any apprehension and finding none as he slowly pushes all the way in, stopping when his pubic hair is nestled tightly against Ryan's ass.

The CSI bent over the table lets his breath hitch for a moment before calming himself down, his fingers gripping tightly on the edge of the table, his cheek now resting against the wood. Everything around him seems to have disappeared, the clubbers and the music, his dining room, and he's left only with the feeling he's experiencing now, a mix between pain and pleasure, wanting to pull away yet at the same time push back.

He wants the decision to be made for him, and Greg knows it, snubbing out the butt of the cigarette on the underside of the table before gripping Ryan's hips with both hands, allowing the other man one last deep breath before he pulls out to the head and thrusts back in, the table jolting on its legs. Ryan's face presses harder against the table as he clenches his teeth and tries to get his body in sync with the building rhythm.

Greg is slow, articulate at first, but when Ryan begins to thrust back at the same time, he pushes forward, throwing gentle out the window and plows harder and faster into Ryan. He allows his head to fall back and his mouth to gape open, sucking in deep breaths, trying to hold back the orgasm that's seeking to make its presence known after all the teasing.

The pain has faded, and Ryan remains solitary, the world a mere haze around him, a tightening starting to occur in his stomach as he slowly pulls his head up off the table, the muscles in his arms straining as he pushes his upper body back so that he's only a couple of inches away from Greg's heaving chest. Greg follows the movement with his hand, the left remaining on Ryan's hip, the other sliding around to splay across the other man's stomach, holding him close as he feels his orgasm finally taking control.

Ryan reaches his peak before Greg, crying out and letting his head fall forward, only moving again when Greg's hand travels up to his jaw and pulls his head back so that it's resting against his shoulder. He knows Greg's orgasm is quickly inching upon them. He can feel it in the other man's movements, and he's so far gone that it doesn't really register in his mind as Greg bites down on his shoulder, muffling a scream as he empties himself in Ryan's ass.

The pain that suddenly radiates from the broken skin finally brings the world back down around Ryan in a blinding light, and when Greg finally stops the thrusts, he collapses forward, exhausted and gasping. Greg puts his arms on the table on either side of Ryan's body to keep himself from crushing the other man as he, too, collapses forward, and the dining room is left in a silence occupied only by panting, neither man moving nor speaking for a short while.

When Greg has finally gotten a hold of himself again, he straightens back up, pulling his pants up and moving back to the previous position he was in with his back against the counter, his hands gripping the edge while he tries to get his breathing back under control.

Ryan feels empty with the disappearance of the other man behind him, and he weakly pulls himself back up, his hands shaking as he pulls his jeans up and turns around. He's unsure what to think or feel; he's not the type of person to do something like this, to just let someone he doesn't really know fuck him.

Standing there, looking at the other CSI, he doesn't even know what got him more, what really brought on his orgasm, Greg throwing him back into some weird alternate universe where he believed he was back at that club, or thinking that he was really being fucked by a random stranger that had a little too much to drink and couldn't keep it in his pants on long enough to get out of the public eye.

Either way, he stills feels incredibly turned on by what just happened, and if Greg didn't scare him a little at the same time as well, he just might find himself across the room in front of the older man, pushing Greg hard up against the counter while shoving his tongue down his throat.

Greg can see the conflicting emotions in Ryan's eyes, can see that he wants to do something more, and he lets the most recent events sink in a little further before pushing away from the counter, crossing the room until they're only inches apart, Greg's hands reaching out to rest on Ryan's hips.

"I think you know exactly what you wanted to happen at that club, you just didn't want to admit it to yourself. You know now, though, and you wish you could go back there and let that guy do whatever he wants to you."

Ryan doesn't think he's ever been this turned on so quickly after an orgasm, but he is, and he finds himself pushing all fears aside as he crushes his lips against Greg's, silencing the other man's words as he backs him against the table.

Greg's right, and Ryan knows it. He wants to know what would have happened if he didn't run, but it's too late to find out now. Instead, all he can do is pretend that the man standing in front of him now is the same man from the club, still feeling Greg inside him, his sperm moistening the inside of his thigh where it's run down from between his ass cheeks.

It's a feeling that he's never felt before, one that he wants to continue to feel as he throws all reservations out the door and unbuckles Greg's jeans once again, the CSI keeping his hands on Ryan's hips, allowing the other man to undress him.

***

Greg falls back onto the couch after being stripped of all his clothes, his hands grasping Ryan's waist as the younger man climbs over him, straddling his hips. He's usually not like this. Ryan doesn't normally throw himself at someone like this, but he has alcohol clouding his vision, and all the blood seems to have pooled in his groin.

He thinks about that night at the club, how he went home and masturbated repeatedly to the images of that stranger doing exactly what Greg just did. He wanted to be fucked against that table, wanted to be controlled by some stranger without a face or a voice, just demanding hands holding his hips, and a thick cock impaling him.

He wants to let his façade go, if only for one night to destroy the perfect environment of his apartment, to forget about hiding his sexuality and allow himself to be fucked, to be used. He wants to be someone else just for one night, to get away from CSI, from the case, and Greg is giving him the perfect opportunity to do just that, pulling the younger man down onto his erection.

Greg doesn't bother going slow at first, Ryan is still loose and lubricated from moments ago, and he thrusts himself up as the younger man pushes down, Greg's eyes watching Ryan's close, the younger man gasping as he lets himself become lost. Greg can only stare at him, at his neck, one hand leaving Ryan's lips to move to the side of his neck, this thumb running against the soft flesh.

Ryan's breathing is coming out more sporadic, his body covered in sweat as he continues to ride Greg, his hands on the older man's chest as he flexes his thighs and picks up the rhythm, pushing both men closer to orgasm.

It doesn't take long before Ryan collapses against Greg's chest, both men trying to calm their breathing. They're both too spent to really move, tired, but Greg forces himself to hold Ryan as he repositions his body, laying lengthwise on the couch with his head on the armrest and Ryan on his chest.

Ryan feels like he's going to pass out from fatigue, feeling Greg pull the blanket he keeps draped over the back of the couch over their bodies. He wants to sleep, to clear his mind of all the emotional crap he's been dealing with since the bodies started turning up, but something still bothers him.

"You never answered my question before."

Greg was hoping that the sex would be tiring and distracting enough to make Ryan forget about their previous conversation, but obviously it hasn't, and he sighs as Ryan repositions himself so that he's looking at the older CSI.

"Did you have sex with Michael Stans the night he was killed?"

"What difference does it make whether I did or not?"

He's trying to avoid answering the question, and Ryan knows it. The police report said that the victim wasn't sexually assaulted, that he didn't have sex at all that night, but as Greg said himself, he and the victim were bound to have sex together anytime they were close. Greg has already displayed the type of control he can have over people, and Ryan has a feeling that Michael Stans didn't initially leave early by himself, at least not without Greg trying to join him. It's highly possible that Greg could have left the club without his other friends knowing, and if he didn't perform the act itself, he, at least, would've seen someone kill the victim.

It's a theory, just like everything else he's got going through his head, but the way Greg is avoiding the question, he feels like there's some truth to it. To the very least, Greg saw the victim after he left the club but before the body was found, and at most, he's the reason Michael Stans is dead in the first place.

All these thoughts only serve to bring back Ryan's anxiety about Greg, and he feels his stomach knot up when it really hits him that he's laying naked with a possible killer, Greg's arms wrapped around his waist, preventing him from moving anywhere. His heart rate is quickly speeding up past the point where it was in the middle of sex, and Ryan swallows thickly as he closes his eyes and tries to think of a way out of this.

"I'm going to go take a shower."

Although the words are sudden, he tries to avoid sounding like he's becoming panicked by the situation as he pulls himself up off the couch, Greg following his actions moments later.

"I'll come with you."

Ryan tenses up when Greg comes up behind him and wraps his arms around the younger man, sucking on his neck briefly before pulling away. He wants to tell Greg to stay away from him, but he's too fearful to do so. Instead, he forces himself to walk through the hallway to his bedroom, Greg following on his heels.

After allowing the water to warm up in the bathroom, the two men step into the shower, Ryan trying to keep his distance as much as he possibly can in such a confined space after briefly stepping through the spray of water to rinse off, moving aside so that Greg can do the same while he grabs the soap.

"Are you alright?"

Greg looks at Ryan from under the spray of water, picking up on the uneasiness as he rinses off.

"I'm fine, just not used to showering with other people."

It doesn't come out as convincing as he'd hope, but there's not much else he can do, especially when Greg is taking the few short steps over to him until the backs of his legs are pressed firmly against the side of the tub and his back is against the wall, the soap slipping form his hand.

"Maybe I can take your mind off of it, make you feel a little more comfortable."

Greg's voice is low, his eyes reflecting something that makes Ryan's stomach churn even more. He doesn't know what exactly it is, but he fears that if he doesn't get out of this situation soon, he's going to figure it out.

"I'm tired, maybe we can finish this tomorrow, after we've both had some sleep."

His breathing is coming out heavier, noticing that Greg has pinned him against the wall with his hands resting on the tile on either side of his head. He feels Greg's semi-hard cock pressing against the inside of his thigh, and he closes his eyes as he puts his hands on Greg's chest, trying to push the older man away.

"Greg, stop."

"I'm not doing anything you don't want me to."

"I told you I'm tired. Let me go."

It's stern, and Greg stares at Ryan for a moment before finally backing off, retreating back under the spray of water before grabbing his growing erection. Ryan glances at him briefly before walking out of the bathroom on shaky legs, grabbing a towel from the back of the bathroom door before he closes it.

He wraps the towel around his waist and stands just outside of the bathroom for several moments, listening to the water run from within, hearing the sounds of Greg moaning.

He knows he only has a small window of time available before Greg gets out of the shower, and he quickly grabs the cordless phone off of his nightstand before leaving the room and making his way down the hallway to the kitchen. It keeps him fairly secluded from the rest of the apartment, preventing him from really seeing whether or not Greg's coming, but he keeps his eyes on the doorway nonetheless.

The number he dials is from memory, listening to the phone ring several times before there's finally an answer, a feminine voice coming across from the other line.

"Calleigh-"

"Ryan, is everything okay?"

"Depends on what you have for me. Have you been able to do any research on Greg Sanders?"

His eyes remain on the kitchen doorway as he speaks, keeping his voice low in case Greg were to be standing on the other side. This isn't a conversation he wants the older man hearing, more out of fear of what will happen than anything.

"I talked to someone at the Las Vegas lab, pretended I was an old friend of his that was supposed to meet up with him last week. The woman said he was on a two-week vacation when he got the call about the killer being here in Miami. Apparently he was out of town when his supervisor called him about the case, and he flew straight here without stopping in Vegas first."

"Where did he fly in from?"

A pause on the line is filled with the sounds of Calleigh typing on a keyboard, and Ryan nervously starts to pace across the kitchen.

"His credit card history doesn't have anything in it about plane tickets, and the woman I talked to said she's not sure where he went."

"Shit."

"Ryan, I think you need to talk to Horatio about this, if this guy really is the killer, everyone working the case could be in serious danger."

"Calleigh, I-" his words cut off suddenly, Calleigh getting an unsettling feeling in her stomach when she tries to get his attention back.

"Ryan?"

Ryan freezes as the lights in the kitchen go out, the phone dropping to the floor moments later as he feels something wrap around his neck.

One hand instinctively goes to his throat, trying to pull at whatever his attacker is using to choke him with, the other outstretches to the counter, fumbling blindly for the block of knives. He barely grasps one before the attacker pulls him back, but before he can make use of it, he's slammed against the wall, knocking the air out of him, and he drops the knife to the floor.

He feels himself becoming lightheaded, but a sudden burst of adrenaline aids him in pushing away from the wall, somehow managing to get free as he falls to the floor.

He tries to crawl to the door, disoriented and still in the dark, but he's suddenly pushed onto his back, feeling water drip on him as he feels the towel being pulled from around his waist.

The action causes him to panic more, afraid of what his attacker is going to do to him, the Miami CSI crying out as he struggles desperately to get free. In his struggle, he manages to hit his attacker in the groin, but it only allows him to turn back onto his stomach, his fingers beginning to claw at his neck when the towel is wrapped around it.

This time, his struggle is futile, his lungs burning from lack of oxygen, and his eyes beginning to roll into the back of his head. He can't keep up the fight anymore, and soon, his body goes limp on the floor, the attacker waiting a moment before climbing off of the CSI.

--

Ryan doesn't think that when you die, you feel pain, but his neck feels sore and swollen, his eyes heavy as he tries to open them. Everything around him looks like a blurred white mass, and only when he hears the beating of a heart monitor does he realize he's not really dead, but lying in a hospital bed instead.

He grunts in pain, his hand shaking as he brings it to his neck, feeling the raw flesh as he blinks several times to try and clear his vision. Upon initial inspection of his surroundings, he finds that he's alone, an IV in the top of his hand and an oxygen mask over his face, clean oxygen entering his lungs with each breath.

For several moments, he remains motionless in the bed, the events of what happened replaying themselves over and over, and he curses himself for being so careless, inviting Greg into his home, having sex with him when he knew damn well that the older man has something to do with the cases.

He doesn't understand why he's alive though, and he's thankful when Horatio walks into the room, hoping that his supervisor can shine a little light on what happened after he passed out.

"Ryan, how are you feeling?"

"What happened?"

His voice is raspy and sore, and Horatio offers him some water from the nightstand beside the bed, Ryan taking off the oxygen mask to drink before giving back the cup.

"Ryan, can you to tell me everything that happened that you can remember?"

Straight to the point, and the look on Horatio's face is a plethora of emotions, concern evident as he waits patiently for the younger man to open up and give them their first insight as to what happened in the apartment.

"I was on the phone with Calleigh when the lights went out. At first, nothing happened. I turned my back to the doorway for a second, but then I felt someone come up behind me and wrap something around my neck. I struggled with him, but eventually he pinned me to the ground. The last thing I remember was feeling him wrap my towel around my neck."

"Did you get a look at the guy?"

"No, it was dark, but I think I know who it was."

He really doesn't want to say the next part, he doesn't even want to believe his own theories, that a fellow CSI could come after him like this. They're supposed to catch the killers, not become them.

"Who do you think it was?"

"Greg Sanders."

"Ryan, I'm not so sure that's possible."

Horatio pauses, trying to find a good way to explain why, as Ryan's eyebrows knit together in confusion.

"Greg Sanders was found lying on your bedroom floor; he was attacked in the same manner as the other victims were."

***

He feels like the heart monitor should be projecting a flat line as he feels his heart stop in his chest, eyes wide and staring at Horatio. He honestly doesn't know what to say, it's not something he would have ever expected, and he slowly starts to shake his head, forcing himself to believe Horatio isn't telling the truth.

"That's not right; I know it was him that attacked me."

"You said that you didn't see his face, the lights were out. How do you know it was him?"

"I felt the water. When he was standing over me, he was dripping water."

"We believe the killer went after Mr. Sanders first, and it's possible he got wet when he pulled him out of the shower or while he was attacking him."

Ryan doesn't know what to say to this. He falls silent as Horatio continues.

"Calleigh told me that you asked her to run a background check on Mr. Sanders. Why didn't you come to me personally about your suspicions? Especially when you felt so strongly about it that you found it necessary to involve another colleague by asking her to conduct a separate investigation without my knowledge?" Horatio now asked, and Ryan could sense the underlying concern in his voice amidst the evident disappointment.

He handled the situation wrong in so many ways, and now he's going to have to explain everything to Horatio, including what happened just before he was choked unconscious, how he had sex with someone whom he thought was a serial killer.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking."

"I need you to think now. I need you to tell me everything you did from the time you left CSI to the time you woke up here. I know this was a traumatic experience to go through, but you and Greg are his only survivors so far, anything you can remember may be the key to catching him."

He knew he would have to, but now he doesn't think he can get it out, feeling too embarrassed about the situation, unsure if Horatio already knows that he and Greg slept together, knows that he's gay. None of his friends know; he's kept it locked so far away since joining the police force, and now the thought of having to repeat his sexual encounters with Horatio is making him nauseous.

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

"Ryan, you had a killer in your apartment, a killer that went after two CSIs and that has already killed six other victims. You're the closest person to have gotten to him and still be alive. I need to know everything that happened."

"I didn't see the guy's face. It was dark, and he got me from behind."

"You're avoiding-"

"Horatio."

Both men turn to the door when Calleigh steps into the room and interrupts their conversation, her eyes taking in the site of the dark bruise on Ryan's neck before she forces herself to look at Horatio.

"Can I see you out in the hall for a minute?"

Horatio looks at Ryan for a brief moment before moving towards the door, following Calleigh out into the hallway and closing the door, preventing Ryan from hearing whatever she has to say to him.

"What is it?"

"I think it would be better if I get the statement from Ryan."

"You're not on this case."

"Put me on it. You're down two CSIs now. I listened on the phone while Ryan was almost killed. I think I deserve to be on this case. I think he'll open up to me a little more, Horatio, so just give me a chance to talk to him."

There's something she's not telling him, something Ryan's trying to hide as well, but he knows that the two CSIs are closer than he is with them, and if that's what it takes to get Ryan to recount everything that happened, he trusts Calleigh enough with the task.

"Alright, you can get his statement. This case is starting to get out of control, we need everything we can possibly get."

Calleigh agrees, and Horatio hesitates for a moment before finally leaving, stepping onto the elevator. Calleigh watches him go and waits for the elevator doors to shut before making her way back into the hospital room, finding Ryan lying on his side with his back to the door.

She walks around the bed and finds him staring blankly at the wall, his eyes plagued with emotion as she pulls up a chair and sits down, waiting until he finally looks at her before speaking.

"How're you doing?"

"I fucked up."

"Not so much, until you slept with a guy that you thought was a killer." It's said with a faint smirk on her lips, and Ryan groans at the knowing look in her eyes.

"How'd you know?"

"About Greg, or guys in general?"

With that response, he doesn't really need a straightforward answer now, it's obvious she knew about his sexuality before all of this happened.

"Ryan, tell me what happened, start to end, don't leave anything out."

He hesitates, feeling a little childish as he averts his eyes from Calleigh.

"After I found out that he and the second victim had a relationship, it deflected me from the theory that he was the killer. I brought him over for dinner to kind of make up for it, and one thing led to another. He just, he got into my head, and next thing I know, I was letting him fuck me. After it was over, I started thinking about Michael Stans, the whole thing still wasn't feeling right, so I told him I was going to take a shower. I was trying to get away from him so I could think more clearly. He followed me in there, though, and tried to force himself on me, but I left. That's when I went into the kitchen and called you. I had my eye on the doorway, just in case he happened to show up, but next thing I knew, the lights went out, and someone grabbed me from behind. I struggled with them, grabbed a knife, and tried to stab them, but I was overpowered. That's the last I remember."

"You didn't hear any noises coming from the bedroom while you were on the phone?"

"Not that I remember, but my focus wasn't necessarily on that at the time; Michael Stans's case file kept going through my head."

She wishes they had more, but at this point she's not going to push him. It's obvious by the look in his eyes that the whole attack hasn't sunk in yet, and she doesn't want to push him too far for fear that it will make things a little more sketchy.

Instead, she takes a different approach, recounting what they think happened by going through the crime scene.

"If I go through what we think happened, do you think it might help you to remember anything?"

Probably not.

"You can try."

"Well, we believe he was initially attacked while he was in the shower, but he started to fight back. A few feet into the bedroom there's a significant amount of blood, we believe that's where the killer left him, but he crawled several more feet towards the door before he passed out. He was strangled with the same type of wire of our other victims. We ran a rape kit on the both of you, his turned up negative, we're still waiting on the DNA results from yours. Did Greg use a condom?"

"No, it happened so fast I didn't even think about it. One minute we were talking, the next-"

"We'll take a blood sample from him then to compare to the rape kit."

The room falls silent, Calleigh studying the younger man as he stares off, his thoughts caught up in the previous night. The sex, the attack, it's all making his head hurt, and he squeezes his eyes close, wanting to just go back to sleep. He was already having a hard enough time with the case before, spending all of his time trying to close it. And now it's taken a more personal turn, the killer was in his home, he killed someone in his own bedroom, and then he tried to kill him too.

This guy needs to be stopped, but Ryan knows it just got a lot more complicated, if not more serious after having a CSI attacked by the killer.

"Ryan-"

"No more questions."

He feels physically and emotionally drained, and if he weren't told repeatedly growing up how wrong it was for a man to cry, he'd probably be doing just that right now. To think that the man he had sex with just hours ago was brutally murdered in his home, he doesn't know if he can handle going back to that place, somewhere he doesn't feel safe in.

"Can I be left alone for a while?"

"I think it would be better if I stayed with you for right now; everyone's worried, I'm worried. You and Greg were almost killed by a serial killer."

Almost.

Ryan's eyes snap open and towards Calleigh, and she looks confused by the sudden response before figuring it out.

"Horatio didn't tell you that Greg is still alive?"

"No! Horatio said he was attacked, and you both said he was strangled."

Now his head really hurts, but he feels a bit relieved knowing that Greg's not dead, although he's unsure of what kind of condition the older man is in.

"He didn't bother making sure Greg was dead before he went after you. We found a piece of cord under the refrigerator that we think he might have used to try and strangle you with before you started to struggle."

"How bad is he?"

All thoughts of Greg being a serial killer have vanished from his mind just as quickly as they initially entered, and he feels guilty for putting everyone in this mess, knowing that if he hadn't accused Greg in the first place, the older man probably would have never been at his apartment.

"His injuries aren't nearly as extensive as our other victims. His larynx is still intact, and the damage to his carotid arteries is minimal. They're currently keeping him under heavy sedation in the ICU. If we hadn't been on the phone when the guy attacked, the police would have never made it to Greg in time."

He owes her more now than he had ever imagined he would, and he forces himself to sit up, allowing her to help him.

"Can I go see him?"

"I don't think that would be the best thing right now. He's got a couple of the Vegas CSIs with him and full security. He just needs to rest right now, as do you."

That's not going to happen now, definitely not now, but he nods his head anyways, not wanting Calleigh to think he's going to jump up and run to the ICU as soon as he's alone. Instead, he lays back on the pillows, knowing that he's not going to be left alone for a while as he stares at the ceiling, trying to hold back the tears.

"What's going to happen now?"

It's asked with a quiet voice as Calleigh sits by the bed, watching Ryan lie almost motionless, the pain obvious in his voice.

"Horatio will discuss the details with you when he gets back."

"I rather hear it from you."

"Well, Horatio thinks it best that you be taken off the case. He thinks you've become too caught up in the case, and while he knows you're trying to do the best you can, he thinks it's starting to cloud your judgment. You've been pulling too many shifts, you've become too emotionally attached, and he's afraid that you've become desperate in finding the killer, to the point of accusing the wrong person of it."

"I didn't go after Greg because it was an easy way out, I had reasonable evidence to check him out."

"I know you had your best intentions at heart, but you were reckless in your decision to withhold the information from Horatio."

"Are they going to do anything to you for running Greg's background?"

"Other than make me your babysitter until the case is over?"

It's said in a bit of a playful tone, and Ryan's glad that Calleigh's not mad at him for dragging her into this.

"Thanks for calling the police."

"I wouldn't have known to if you hadn't called me when you did."

He doesn't respond, suddenly feeling very tired. His throat is starting to throb from talking, and Calleigh can see the pain that's etching across his face as he lies back on his side.

"You alright, Ryan?"

"Yeah, tired."

"Get some sleep. There's a security guard outside of your door, if the attacker tries to come back, we'll be waiting for him."

Ryan nods, and within minutes he's back to sleep. Calleigh's surprised he was even able to stay with her this long, considering the nurse warned that he'd probably be in and out of it over the next day or so.

***

"You're not supposed to be here."

Ryan stands outside of the ICU room looking in through the glass doors at the pale figure lying in the hospital bed, a tube extending from his mouth and several wires surfacing from under the hospital blanket and gown. He's been standing here for almost ten minutes since Calleigh left to get some coffee, and he convinced the officer at his door to escort him up to the ICU floor.

Now, he turns to see an older woman with dark hair standing a few feet away with her arms folded over her chest, the female CSI looking none too pleased to be seeing the younger man there.

"I just wanted to see for myself that he's alive."

"So you can accuse him of murder some more?"

He doesn't say anything in response, he doesn't want to have to go through this with yet another person so he remains silent, turning back to stare at Greg. The thought of their sexual encounters suddenly comes to mind, and he feels himself flush, ignoring the presence of the other CSI still near him.

This whole situation has gotten out of hand, giving him a brutal headache as he leans forward and lets his forehead rest against the glass. He feels a chill and pulls the cheap hospital robe tighter around him, his hand hurting from the IV that's still stuck in the back of it, the tube's luckily been disconnected so he doesn't have to wheel around an IV pole.

The doctor told him just shortly after his initial talk with Calleigh that he'll be able to go home in the next twenty-four hours, and he's waiting anxiously for the time that he's discharged, wanting to get some real sleep, some time alone to himself without Calleigh hovering around him.

Speaking of the older woman, Ryan feels a new presence standing next to him, and he sees Calleigh's reflection in the glass he's leaning against, the woman looking none too thrilled as she holds a cup of coffee in her hand, another officer standing behind her.

"What are you doing up here, Ryan?"

"I just wanted to see him."

He thinks Sara is going to say something again, but she only sighs before walking away, leaving them alone with the officers still standing behind them.

"Ryan, I know you two went through a lot back at your apartment, but I think maybe it would be best for you both to keep your distance, at least until this case is closed."

He can't, probably wouldn't be able to even if he tried. Just like back at the apartment when they were in the kitchen, Ryan feels drawn to Greg; there's just something about him. He can still feel the older man inside of him, and he can't help but replay the scene from the kitchen on repeat inside of his head.

"I want to go in there."

"Ryan, you can't do that. You need to get back to your room. The doctor is going to be there any minute now to discharge you."

He finally turns away from the glass, away from Greg, and he reluctantly agrees to go with Calleigh, the officers following them as they make their way back to the room where the doctor's already waiting, talking to a nurse.

"Mr. Wolfe, we were starting to think that you flew the coop on us here."

"He just went upstairs to visit a colleague."

Calleigh speaks for him as Ryan sits in a chair that's next to the bed, rubbing his face with his hands as he lets out a tired sigh. He's ready to be over with this, out of these clothes and in a real bed. Hospitals never really were his thing to begin with, and the stress he's feeling is only making it worse.

--

Ryan's been fairly silent since he got back to the room. He wants to sleep this all away, but it's not going to happen, especially not with the threat of a killer still lingering over them. The case is no longer in his hands, but it's definitely still a part of him, will be for a while. His throat's still sore and slightly swollen, and as he ties his shoes, he realizes his hands are shaking profusely.

When he's done tying the laces, he sits back up and balls his hands into fists, releasing them before repeating the action, trying to get them to stop. Calleigh watches him, and she feels for the younger CSI, just now really taking into consideration that although Ryan has made several mistakes over the past few days, he's still a victim of the serial killer, one that managed to fight back and survive and possibly save Greg's life, whether or not he's the one that put the Vegas CSI in that position in the first place.

"We're going to find this guy, Ryan."

He forgets she's still there when she speaks again, and he quickly buries his hands in the pockets of his jeans as he stands up, trying to hide them away from her. The words she provide don't give much comfort to him; it's not only the rampant serial killer he's dealing with, but thoughts of Greg as well, part of him wanting to go back up to the ICU to see the older man before he leaves.

He knows Calleigh won't let him though, so he silently gathers the papers the doctor gave him as he was going over the prescriptions, informing him that the swelling in his throat will go down in a few days. He's sure that with the amount of medications he was prescribed that he'll sleep right through it, and at this point, it's about the only thing he wants - sleep.

After a short while of silence, a nurse walks into the room, pushing a wheelchair. He's fully capable of walking out of the hospital alone, but he knows it's hospital regulations so he doesn't argue, instead, sitting down and feeling a bit crowded as he's pushed out into the hallway where the two officers are waiting for him.

Calleigh walks alongside him, the two silent as they get to the car, and he climbs into the backseat, the officers sitting in the front seat while Calleigh remains next to him.

The officers talk quietly amongst themselves on the way to the hotel that sits just outside of Miami, and he's glad for a moment of fresh air when his door opens and he steps out, the sky dark around them as he follows an officer into a rather nice looking hotel. Within no time, he's laying with his back flat against the king sized bed, feeling every muscle in his body relax as he kicks off his shoes over the edge of the mattress and takes in several deep breaths.

Surprisingly enough, he finds himself starting to doze off moments later, faintly hearing Calleigh mention something about getting his prescriptions filled. He doesn't acknowledge her. His eyes are closed, and his breathing's starting to even out, and she can tell he's falling asleep as she quietly leaves the room, reminding the two officers to keep a close eye on him and anyone who looks suspicious that might be walking the halls.

He feels almost weightless laying on the bed, like he's drifted away from his body, but the calm around him soon becomes distorted as he feels like his air is being choked off once again, like someone's got their hands around his throat, and he starts to struggle in the bed.

Calleigh finds Ryan tossing and turning in his sleep when she comes back almost an hour later, the younger man crying out as he claws at his throat, and the female CSI quickly rushes over to the bed, grabbing and shaking Ryan's shoulder to try and wake him. His sudden response catches her off guard, and she stands back startled when he jumps out of the bed and rushes into the bathroom, dry heaving echoing throughout the small bathroom moments later.

She gives him a few minutes of privacy before going into the bathroom, finding him sitting with his back against the wall across from the toilet, his skin flushed and sweaty, his eyes closed, and his breath coming out in quick gasps.

"Are you okay?"

No, he's far from it, but he won't let himself verbalize it. Instead, he just nods his head, but Calleigh sees right through it, sees his hands shaking as he runs them down his sweating face.

"Don't let this get to you, Ryan. You survived, you both did. You might have made some unfavorable decisions in the process, but in the end, it could be what saved your lives. The killer was obviously watching one, or both of you. If he would have gotten to either of you while you were alone, this could have turned out a lot worse."

"I don't know this guy, Calleigh. I met him less than seventy-two hours ago, and I've already accused him of being a serial killer, not to mention letting him screw me. And now he's in the hospital with injuries that could have been a direct result of my careless actions. How can I not let this get to me?"

There's not really an answer she can provide, and the room falls into silence as Calleigh sits on the closed toilet seat across from Ryan. They remain there until the silence is interrupted, not by one of them but Horatio instead, the CSI clearing his throat and gaining both of their attentions.

"Horatio, has there been a break in the case?"

"Unfortunately not, but there has been some major changes. The FBI has been called in to work on the case. As a result, the Vegas team will be leaving first thing in the morning, except for Sara Sidle, who will be staying here until Greg is released from the hospital, which could be in only a few short days."

They have mixed reactions about the latest news. Although they now have more resources to try and catch this guy, it's not necessarily a good sign when the FBI is brought into a case, and it makes Ryan fear for his job even more, knowing that they're going to be updated on his actions as of lately.

The thought makes him a little more pale, and Calleigh squeezes his knee as she stands up, holding her hand out to help him up. After a moment, he takes it and finds himself standing back on his feet, moving back into the hotel room where Horatio is waiting for them.

"So what do we do now?"

"We're still in charge, but if we don't find this guy soon, that will no longer be the case. Greg woke up a short time ago, and Eric is working on getting his statement. Greg can't talk, and his hands are shaky, so it's taking him a little longer. All Eric's got so far is that Greg wasn't able to get a look at the guy, the killer came from behind him. Ryan, have you been able to remember anything else from the attack?"

He shakes his head; he's of no use to the case either. He knows he should have done more, tried to scratch the guy to get DNA from his skin, hit him harder and cause him to bleed, something. He's a CSI, he should have been able to do something, but instead, they're left with yet another dead end.

"It was too dark. I tried to stab him, but"

"It's alright, Ryan, you tried. This guy has already proven that he knows what he's doing, I have a feeling he knew what he was getting himself into when he came after a CSI. We found the same trace of leather gloves on the knife and towel. Same trace on the wire buried in Greg's neck."

"How can he go this long without getting caught, without leaving any trace of himself behind?"

It perplexes Calleigh. She has yet to come across a criminal who has not missed at least one detail in the process of covering up others. Horatio thinks a little clearer, though, his gaze focuses on Ryan as he develops a theory, one that follows the same line of thought Ryan had previously.

"Maybe you were on the right track, Ryan, but looking in the wrong place."

The statement causes both Calleigh and Ryan to raise their eyebrows in confusion, trying to follow their supervisor's line of thought as he stands with his hands on his hips. He doesn't bother to elaborate until he finally pulls out his cell phone and hits speed dial, waiting for only a short moment before the other line picks up.

"Eric, I need you to run a background check on everyone that works at the lab. See if any of them have any relation to Las Vegas. I think this guy may be working on the inside."

"That might not be necessary, H. I think we just caught our killer."

***

Next part of part of Doppelganger.

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