Title: Down the Line
By: Caroline Crane
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG
Summary: Post-ep for "Play With Fire". Nick keeps a vigil at Greg's bedside after the accident.

It seems like it should be dark – it's the middle of the night, after all, and there's no sound except the beeping of monitors and the occasional, distant squeaking of sensible shoes against scuffed linoleum. It's long past visiting hours, but Nick's badge gets him lots of places long after other people are being turned away. And he's not even sure what he's doing here, because he doesn't really have the right. A couple dates and a few awkward goodnight kisses don't really give him the right to…this.

'This' being a vigilant, worried hovering over the bed of someone who doesn't even know he's there, hasn't woken up since he came in the room and might sleep right through 'til morning depending on what drugs they've got him on. He hasn't taken his eyes off Greg's face since he sat down, partly because he's afraid he'll wake up and Nick will miss it, but mostly because he's terrified of what will happen when Greg opens his eyes and asks what he's doing there.

He doesn't have an answer for that. He didn't even plan to come here, not really. He already heard from Warrick that Greg seemed tired, but otherwise okay, and then a more sensitive report from Catherine, who kept looking at him with this sympathetic expression that made him wonder if she knew more than she should. He isn't sure how she could, because there isn't much to know. Nothing much has happened between them; he isn't even sure how they ended up on that first date. All he really remembers is Greg flirting the way he always does, and Nick opening his mouth and making what was supposed to be a wisecrack about their compatibility.

It was a joke…sort of, anyway. Greg didn't laugh, though; he just smiled and said 'okay', like Nick had just asked him out for real. Only he must have, because they'd gone out two more times after that first night. Three dates, all of which pointed to their complete lack of compatibility, proving Nick right and making him sure that date number four was a bad idea. But before he even had a chance to tell Greg, their whole world literally exploded, and now…now he's sitting in a hospital room in the middle of the night feeling guilty over something that isn't even his fault.

"Are you gonna sit there all night?"

The voice startles him enough to come out of his chair just a little before he realizes it's just Greg – Greg who's awake and looking right at him – and he doesn't look like he's been sleeping for awhile now. "How long have you been awake?"

He tries to shrug, then remembers why he shouldn't. He tries to hide the wince, but Nick sees it and winces in sympathy. He wants to reach out, but he knows thanks to Catherine that Greg's burns are pretty bad and he doesn't know where it's safe to touch him.

"Long enough to know you're not leaving any time soon."

Nick tries to tell himself that Greg only sounds defeated because he's tired, but pretty much all he's had to do for the past few days is sleep. He's never heard Greg like this, though, not even in those rare moments when he's being serious. When he gets like that Nick thinks he sounds brilliant, but now…now he just sounds beaten. He tries to tell himself that Greg's been through a lot and anyone would be a little shaken by the experience, but he's going to be okay. He'll be okay and then he'll be back to his old self, and then…then Nick doesn't know what, because just a few days ago he was busy trying to convince himself that there was nothing between them.

"What are you doing here?"

The question startles him even though he's been dreading it for over an hour now. "I don't know," he hears himself say. "I came to see how you were doing."

"In the middle of the night?"

Nick shrugs, then feels instantly guilty because he can do it without even thinking about it. "Couldn't sleep."

"So you expected me to entertain you? Sorry, Stokes, but I'm not really feeling up to it." That's the first time Greg's called him by his last name since their first date; it makes his stomach twist in a way he didn't expect, but he's not sure whether or not he has the right to be hurt by it.

"I was worried about you. Catherine said you seemed kind of down." And he knows it's a stupid thing to say, but he's never been any good at this sort of thing. He doesn’t even know what 'this sort of thing' is, because he has no idea what Greg wants from him. He didn't know before the accident, and now he's afraid that it's too late to offer it.

"You don't have to worry about me," Greg says, but his voice betrays him. Nick can tell he's trying to sound bitter, or maybe like he's just bored with the attention already, but he can hear the fear behind Greg's voice. It's enough to make him hope for something he didn't even know he wanted until now, but he's always lived by the philosophy that it's better late than never.

"I can't help it," he answers, smiling a little at the way Greg's eyes widen for a second before he gets control and makes his expression go blank again. "Look, I know we've only been out a few times…"

"Look, Nick, you don't owe me anything." And that does sound bitter, but Nick doesn't let it bother him because he knows what he was about to say even if Greg doesn't. "It's not like we were committed or anything, you know? It was just a little fun. You don't have to do this."

"I'm not," Nick answers, with a bigger smile this time at Greg's stunned expression. "Do you think I came all the way over here in the middle of the night to break up with you? Give me a little credit."

Greg considers that for a second; Nick can see him turning the words over in his mind, and now he does look tired and younger than Nick ever remembers seeing him. His forehead furrows with a cute little frown and Nick's sure he's in a lot of pain, but he can't help thinking that he looks really cute when he's helpless.

"Why'd you come here, then?"

"I told you, I was worried about you."

"So worried that it took you three days to find the place?"

Just like that the bitterness is back, and now Nick knows where they stand. When he came here tonight he didn't want to believe there was something between them; he's spent so much time telling himself that those kisses didn't mean anything, telling himself that they're too different to make it work. He's invested a lot of energy in lying to himself over the past few weeks, but if he'd known how much it was hurting Greg he never would have wasted a second on any of it.

"I'm sorry," he finally says, because what else is there to say, really? He stands up carefully, moving his chair as close to the narrow hospital bed as he can without disturbing anything important, then he sits back down again and reaches out slowly. He can't see much of Greg; he knows his back got the worst of it, that he's been lying on his side for three days now and he's probably miserable, and the last thing he wants to do is make it worse. He can see one hand, though, and he reaches out as though Greg's made of glass and gently – so soft that he can barely feel the whisper of skin under his fingers – brushes Greg's knuckles with the tip of his fingers. "Can I…?"

Greg doesn't answer, but his fingers twitch slightly and then Nick's hand just slides into his as though it was meant to be there. He spares a wry grin for that thought and files it under 'sappy things we don't say out loud'. "I wasn't sure…" he begins, figuring honesty is the best policy sometimes, but only when it's not going to hurt someone who's already been through more than anyone should have to face, "…I wasn't sure you wanted to see me."

"Yeah, you're kinda stupid sometimes," Greg says, punctuating the sentence with a little yawn. "And I'm kinda tired."

"That's okay," Nick answers, resisting the urge to reach out and smooth Greg's hair back from his face. "Go back to sleep."

"Are you just gonna sit there all night and watch me?"

"Probably." Because sometimes honesty really is the best policy.

"Good." And he smiles again as the hand in his squeezes slightly, watching Greg's eyelids flutter closed before he lets out a silent sigh and slumps forward a little in his chair. And later he'll wonder how he even held himself up when he felt like screaming or crying or just throwing whatever he could get his hands on, but for now he just holds on to Greg's hand and watches the steady rise and fall of his chest until they both drift off to sleep.