Title: A Hard Rain's Gonna Fall
By: kennedy
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: R
Note: Written as a not-so-secret-Santa fic for Catlover2x, who specifically requested h/c. Beta'd by Itglitters.
Summary: Nick's desire to help Greg gain some experience in the field backfires.

***

Nick Stokes didn't believe in nepotism. He had gone through life thinking that you had to do the best job you could, and you would either succeed or fail on your own merits.

But, he had also gotten a little older and wiser since he had moved to Vegas, and realized that sometimes you had to buck the system in order to make it fairer, either for yourself or for others.

Especially if that other was somebody you cared about.

He and Greg Sanders, resident labrat, had only been going out together for about four months. But it seemed a lot longer, especially when he took into consideration the fact that they had been chasing each other around the lab for longer than that. Plus, there was also the fact that they had gotten together under extraordinary circumstances. Careless behavior by a colleague - Nick still couldn't bring himself to say her name when in conjunction with this action as he felt he would lose all semblance of respect for her, and he didn't want to do that - had caused a laboratory accident. Well, that was the polite term for it. The explosion that had resulted from it forced Greg to go flying through a window with flames scarring his back.

Greg had been finding it difficult to go back to work. He had gotten over his wariness of the new lab space relatively easily, but when his hands started shaking as a result of post-traumatic stress he felt like a surgeon whose gifts were betraying him. It was then that he made the decision that he wanted to get out into the field and start training to be a CSI.

At first Nick had been horrified. He wanted Greg to remain safe in their building, until Greg pointed out the irony that it had been their building where he had been injured.

"It's still safer than what happens out in the field," Nick argued. "Gun in my face by killer, remember? Thrown out a second story window by a stalker? Learn from my example!"

"So you had a little bad luck," Greg shrugged, not meaning to sound insensitive, and instantly regretting the words out of his mouth when he saw Nick slump. "I'm sorry… oh baby, I'm so sorry. You know I have a stupid mouth. Stupid, stupid mouth."

Finding it easy to forgive Greg as always, especially because there was never anything dire meant behind what he said, Nick leaned in and ghosted his lips over Greg's. "I don't know… I kind of like your mouth."

Greg had then been unable to control himself, and attacked Nick's mouth passionately. And that had been the end of that disagreement for a while.

"Nick, I have a job for you," Grissom said, interrupting his train of thought. "Is there something amusing you?"

Nick became aware that he was grinning like a fool while staring at the wall, remembering the touch of Greg's hands over his body. He instantly sobered, and snapped to attention. "Nuh uh, what is it?"

"Nothing too exciting," his boss raised an eyebrow at him. "And I know you hate the boring ones, but everybody else is out. I need you to do a trash run."

Nick managed to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. "Sure thing."

"Pack a coat. You know how heavy the rain is out there," Grissom said absentmindedly.

Nick nodded and was about to leave, when a strange thought possessed him and he turned back. "Hey, Griss?"

His boss looked up. "Yes?"

"What if I take Greg with me? If it's just a trash run, it won't take us long, but it'll give him some experience in the field." He was working on two levels here, one was the CSI trying to help the rookie get ahead, and the other was the boyfriend wanting his partner to succeed at what he wanted to do.

A slight smile played over Grissom's lips. "It's probably not what Greg is hoping for, but, yes, he might as well get used to all aspects of the job."

Nick nodded, his expression neutral. "Well, I'll go and let him know."

He could see Greg's head bent over his laptop in the DNA lab as soon as he exited Grissom's office. Nick made it to his door in less than five seconds, and rapped jovially.

Greg looked up with a scowl that disappeared as soon as he saw who it was. "Hey."

"Suit up, pardner." Nick waved the paper he was holding. "You're with me."

Greg's expression was one of the kid finding a Playstation wrapped under the Christmas tree. "Really?"

"Grissom approved."

Greg clapped his hands together and rubbed them with pleasure. "This night just got a whole lot better," he said as he jumped out of his seat.

"Don't get too excited," Nick warned him. "It's just a trash run."

"A what in the where now?" Greg wrinkled his nose.

"A trash run," Nick said patiently. "It's when we have to go and pick up some unidentified remains. Well, more like pieces of remains."

Greg looked a bit flat for a second, then perked up. "Hey, it's still hours in the field, so it sounds good to me."

"You sound like Grissom. You scare me sometimes."

Greg leaned in to him and snatched the paper away. "I have to," he whispered with a grin.

Nick shook his head, and followed his partner out the door.



Staring at the rain outside, Greg rubbed his back against the passenger seat. The generic CSI vest he wore, unlike Nick's, which had 'Stokes' stenciled upon the chest, was too big and also extremely itchy. He didn't want to start developing an obsessive compulsive disorder in regards to hygiene, but he wondered how many people before him had worn it and if it truly did get cleaned each time.

"That looks good on you," Nick grinned, taking in Greg's movements.

"It would look better if my name was on it," Greg shrugged.

"That'll come."

"You think so?" Greg asked, hoping he didn't sound too pathetically needy.

"From what I know of you, G, you tend to go after everything you want and get it."

Greg gave a sly smile. "That's true. I even got you. Eventually."

Nick chuckled softly. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he stared out into the thick rain. "I thought I got you."

"True, I was pretty drugged up at the time you took advantage of me in my weakened state."

"You didn't complain," Nick countered.

"On heavy painkillers, remember?"

"Still no excuse."

"Yeah, well…" Greg rubbed his back against the seat some more. "You asked Grissom if you could bring me, didn't you?"

Nick stiffened slightly. "What makes you think that?" He carefully eased the Denali down the sharp slope to the flood path below, pulled the handbrake and turned the ignition off.

"Well… he hasn't exactly been that forthcoming in volunteering me out into the field. I have to push him, and seventy percent of the time he turns me down." Then, by coincidence I'm told, by you, that I can go on a trash run with you. So of course I put two and two together." He laughed as Nick's blush betrayed him. "See, you do love me!"

An awkward silence followed.

Neither of them had said that yet. And now there it was, even though it had been meant as a joke, hanging between them.

Nick saw the flash of panic in Greg's eyes, then his features darkened with embarrassment. Flustered, he looked completely adorable.

After what seemed like an eternity Nick said gruffly, "And so what if I do?"

Wile E. Coyote couldn't have done a more spectacular doubletake.

"Y-y-you do?"

"Why? Don't you?" Nick teased.

"Um, er, yes."

"That doesn't sound too confident there, Greggo."

"Well, it's not like you said it properly!"

"I did!" Nick protested.

"No, you admitted to it. You didn't say the three words. It's not really the same thing."

"Greg," Nick said softly, reaching in to take his hand. "I love you."

"Wow," Greg breathed.

Nick sat back. "Wow?"

"Yeah, wow!" Getting his brain back in order, it was now Greg who leaned in. "I love you, Nick."

Nick now leaned back in again. "Well, we got that out of the way."

"And we get to pick up human entrails. How romantic. I can't wait to tell this story at parties or future Christmases."

Nick grinned at him, happy that Greg was speaking of their future as if it was a sure-fire conclusion. "We don't even know if it's entrails. Or human."

Greg shook his head, amused, and then snuck in a quick kiss. "Thank you for being the first one to say it."

Nick wasn't sure why that was so important to him, but it made Greg happy, so he just nodded. "Let's get to work."



The flood path in the concrete culvert glimmered neon blue in the rain and the streetlights.

"Kinda pretty," Greg said with awe.

Nick shook his head. "Not when we're down in it, it won't be."

"I'm swimming in these boots already," Greg complained.

"That's 'cos you got dainty little feet."

Greg was mortally offended. "I do not!"

"Yeah, you're right. But those waders tend to jump between normal sizes. Just watch your step."

The officer at the scene ran over to meet them, and after introductions were made he pulled at the brim of his hat, which was soaked through with rain. "We better make this quick. The rain ain't stopping, and the water is rising and will only get worse along here."

Nick nodded. "Believe me, Addams, we want an easy job. Where are the remains?"

Addams shone his flashlight along the water to a tunnel thirty yards away from them.

"Of course, they're in the dark watery tunnel," Greg said wryly.

"Grab the biohazard bucket, Greggo," Nick instructed, "and meet me in there. I'll start taking photos so that we can collect them."

Greg nodded, and jogged back towards the Denali, his feet slipping within the rubber. He had a feeling that wouldn't matter as soon water would inevitably get within them and cause natural friction.

In the meantime Nick began to explore the tunnel, searching for the remains. The water was already reaching just below the tops of his boots, and he knew it wouldn't be that much longer before they would be flooded. The sooner they got out of here, the better.

He could smell it before he saw it. He simply pointed his flashlight in the direction of the stench and the light played upon a mass of indistinct flesh. He wrinkled his nose and tried to fight the nausea that rose in him. Focusing on the task, he began to take photos. Whatever it was, it was well past compromised. The storm water was turning it into an island in a rising stream. He tried reasonably successfully to keep a ruler on the surface of the water with his hand so he could provide scale to the photographs.

As he was firing off shots he could hear Greg splashing towards him. "Got the bucket," he announced. "What do you think it is?"

"I think it's a ribcage," Nick said. "But it's so badly decomposed, it'll be up to the Doc to see whether it's human or animal."

"If it's human, it would be a kid," Greg said sourly. "It's so small."

Nick gave him a quick look, briefly remembering what it was like to be in the field those first few times and look death straight in the face. "Yeah, it is. I've finished now, so you can begin collection."

Greg nodded, swallowed hard, and stepped forward to take Nick's place by the remains. Nick stood back to observe him, biting his lower lip so he wouldn't come out and say something workplace-inappropriate like how proud he was of Greg. They were on the clock, there was time for that afterwards.

Greg shuffled over through the knee-deep water, and bent over to start scooping up the body parts into the bucket. His body tried to rebel against him with a rising nausea that made him want to vomit as the smell assaulted his nostrils, but he swallowed again and again, trying to work saliva down to replace the dry cotton in his mouth and throat. His gloved hand disappeared, and punched through the viscous membrane as he tried to find a hold to lift anything he could, and it slithered around in his cupped hands as he pulled the mass over towards the lip of the bucket. As the mound of parts began to disappear below the waterline, he stepped forward to get a better grip. When his foot slid over the submerged ground he could feel the texture change - he was on a drain of some sort - and then he was falling forward as the solidity beneath him disappeared and his right foot went through the grate.

He must have cried out, because Nick was instantly at his side, speaking his name, and that was when he felt the pain blossoming along his ankle. His cry became a gurgled curse, but he didn't keel over, as Nick held him steady. His body was pitched at an odd angle; one foot lower than the other and trapped somewhat further within the storm grate. White stars dancing behind his eyes, he tried to pull himself free, using Nick as leverage, but this only resulted in more blinding pain and another curse.

"Greg!" Nick sounded concerned now.

"My foot…" Greg breathed between concealed sobs. "It's caught…"

Nick shone his flashlight below the waves and managed to make out the grate and Greg's foot wedged within it. He swore under his breath. "Dammit, I didn't see that before, and I was standing right on it!"

Greg stumbled into him as he tried unsuccessfully to move his foot. "Are you trying to suggest I'm heavier than you, Nicky?"

Nick gave him the cursory look-over, and snorted. "You? I'm probably the one who weakened it."

Greg watched wide-eyed as Nick suddenly dropped to his knees and ran his hands down Greg's legs until he was grasping his ankle. Now submerged up to his waist in the water, he pulled at Greg's foot, trying to wrestle it free. Greg grunted in agony, his hands bunched on Nick's back.

Nick could feel sweat breaking out on his forehead as he was unable to set Greg free. He then felt around blindly until he could make out the twisted metal and he tried tugging at this instead. It was set just as firmly in place.

"Fuck!" he yelled, and stayed slumped for a moment.

"Nick," he heard Greg say. "Get out of the water." And then Greg's hands were at his waist, hoisting Nick to his feet. Once he was upright, Greg fell against Nick, as his balance was unsupported once more.

Nick's eyes lit up and he turned to look at Greg, hoping the worry wasn't written nakedly on his face. "I'm going to try and get the Denali as close as possible to the entrance. We'll use the winch to pull the grate free."

Greg nodded. "Good plan."

"Will you be okay while I'm gone?"

"Yep, sure."

"Babe…"

"Just go, Nicky. I want to get out of here."

"I'll let Officer Addams know as well. I'll send him in."

"Do you have to? This is so embarrassing! The rookie gets stuck like Pooh Bear in his burrow."

Nick placed both of his hands on either side of his face. "Greg, we're in a storm drain with waters rising, and you're stuck. No time for embarrassment."

Greg scowled, and then reluctantly nodded. "Don't sound so serious."

"Nothing to worry about," Nick said with a ghost of a smile. He turned away, then turned back and mashed his lips against Greg's. Then he was gone just as quickly, no time to savor the taste of Greg's mouth. It was as if it was an act of desperation.

"Now, I'm worried," Greg called out after him, his words echoing around Nick as they bounced off the tunnel walls. Alone, with nothing but the sound of the water seeking release from the mouth of the tunnel in front of him, Greg tried unsuccessfully to free himself again.

The acoustics of the tunnel, and the fact that he was by himself, made it very easy to start ramping himself up into a paranoid state of mind. Was the sound of the water increasing in speed and volume? Was the water now deeper around his legs than they had been previously? He shook his head, then eyed the remains that were still under water, and resolved himself to continue his job. He sloppily transferred what was left and sealed the bucket so no more water could get in. Once it was back to the lab it would be someone else's problem. Then he realized it would be his, once Doc had given it the once-over. His work was never done.

He wasn't imagining it now. A deafening cacophony of sound assaulted his ears as he stared back at the tunnel behind him.

A small wall of water was rushing towards him. He really had no time to panic, and nor was there anything he could grip onto. The sheer force of the wave hit him hard, and his foot twisted even more painfully as his body was yanked sideways and he was knocked off balance. But as he was stuck he couldn't go anywhere, and he emerged from the water spluttering and gasping for breath that he couldn't seem to quite catch. The waters had settled again, it was obviously just a surge of run-off from somewhere in the hills, but the way this weather was going he was certain there would be more waves, and even just a rising increase in the water to come. He became aware that there was extra weight against his leg - some debris had settled across it during the wave, and he was unable to get up from his awkward position, caught between lying down and upright.

"Dammit!"

He fell back, and tried to balance himself by placing his hands on the concrete below him. The undulations of the water kept him off balance every now and again, and he hoped Nick would hurry back before another wave decided to sweep through. He was starting to feel numb to his situation, as if the fear had been washed away with the wave.

Light and noise filled the tunnel, and Greg realized it was the Denali. Nick jumped out and opened up the back. "Greg, are you okay?" he yelled out as he began to work upon the winch.

"Yes!" Greg called back.

Nick then entered the tunnel, and his face fell. "What the hell happened?" he demanded, taking in Greg's prone position and the fact that he was now entirely soaked.

"A rush of storm water," Greg said simply.

Nick knelt down beside him, and cupped his chin with his free hand. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have left you."

"You had to get the car. No biggie."

It didn't ease Nick's strained expression, but he focused. "Addams is calling emergency services just in case this doesn't work."

"It'll work." Greg tried to appease him, which was ironic as he was the one in danger. He reflected that there is a strange sense of acceptance that always seems to come over the person who is in a bad situation, whereas everybody else seems to think they should be able to repair or even stop it.

Nick felt around underwater again, his haste making him slightly rough with Greg's injured foot, which made him gasp with pain. Nick muttered heartfelt apologies while he attached the clip to what seemed like a sturdy part of the grate, and looked back up at Greg.

"Okay, let's try this."

"I'll be right here." Greg offered him a wry grin.

"Please don't try to be funny."

"I never try to be funny."

Nick jogged back to the Denali and activated the winch. The motor strained as it attempted to retrieve the clip.

"Can you feel anything?" he yelled back over the sound of the engine.

Greg could - pain. The movement of the cable was pushing the clip against his ankle and leg. "It's not moving!" he yelped in reply.

He could hear Nick swear again, and that worried him more than anything. Nick was losing his cool, which meant his situation was worse than he suspected.

Greg suddenly realized that the water he was sitting in was now deeper than it had been moments before. The fear that he had thought disappeared had now returned, and he tried to breathe deeply so he wouldn't hyperventilate. He could imagine that he heard the sound of the water building in layers around him, over the noise of the winch's motor whining, over the sound of his own breathing.

Then there was the sound of something within the winch motor complaining before it gave one last defiant screech and erupted within a ball of smoke. The cable near Greg broke and went skimming through the water, almost hitting Nick before it came to a stop.

Nick kicked the motor in a fury, while Greg stared on in defeat.

"Nick!"

He turned at the sound of Greg's voice, and ran back to him. "Did it shift at all?"

Greg shook his head, but it didn't stop Nick trying to pull out the grate once more with his hands, yanking with all his might. This time the pain was so bad that Greg leaned in, biting into Nick's padded CSI vest to stop from yelling. Finally, Nick stopped pulling and Greg managed to settle against him. Nick stared dead-eyed at the wall of the tunnel ahead, and Greg decided to broach the subject he felt might be a bad one.

"We'll just have to wait for rescue services, then."

Nick still didn't look at him. "Yeah."

"I'll be fine, Nicky."

It was only then that Nick looked back at him. "Of course you will be, Greg," he said fiercely, as if daring Greg to suggest otherwise.

That was what did it for Greg, the tone of his voice and the rare use of his normal moniker. It would only have been more weird if Nick had called him Gregory. "Then what's got you so worried, Nicholas?"

Nick started at the strange use of his full name, and realized that Greg knew. "The water may be a hell of a lot deeper by the time they get here. Addams overheard a report on the radio that storm run-off is coming down from the mountains."

Greg wondered if the blood draining out of his face was visible, but looking at Nick's he could tell it must be as Nick was looking paler than he had ever seen him before.

"They'll…" he stumbled, licked his lips, and tried again. "They'll get here before then."

He hoped he sounded convincing.

"Greg-"

"They'll be here!" Greg yelled.

Nick nodded slowly. "They will."

Greg faltered. "But… what'll happen if they don't?"

Before Nick could answer, Greg heard the dreaded sound again, of the build-up in the pressure of the water, and a new wave of water was rolling in above him. He panicked as the water swept over him again, and he swallowed a great deal of it. He felt Nick's hands at his back, and he was pulled upwards. His trapped foot protested at being wrenched again, and as he stupidly opened his mouth to yell he was met this time with air, blessed air, as Nick held him above the surface and kept him close as the water raged around them. The wall of water was high enough that Greg knew the interior of the Denali would be swamped, and he had a stupid millisecond of thought where he imagined how pissed Ecklie would be at having to get it detailed. Nick tightened his grip on Greg and kept his head above the water, which seemed to be longer in subsiding than the last wave had, and he didn't want to think about what may have happened if Nick hadn't been here for this one.

Finally the water subsided, and Nick's grip loosened. Greg slipped back down into the dark mass of water and instantly realized that the level was deeper again. He was now submerged to just below his shoulder blades.

Nick splashed around the side of the tunnel so that he could face him. "Are you okay?"

Greg nodded. "This is bad, isn't it Nick?"

He could tell Nick didn't want to divulge the truth, but he reluctantly nodded.

"How long did they say they were going to be?"

"About ten or fifteen minutes."

"We've been here for about that long, and the water has doubled in depth. If it does that again, it'll be over my head by the time they get here."

"Don't say that, Greg," Nick said earnestly.

"It's a fact, Nick."

"It's not going to happen."

Distractedly, Greg stared at the ceiling. "Do you think the fates have it in for me? I wanted to leave the lab because it exploded on me. And then I get out in the field, and it wants to drown me. I'm feeling pretty unwanted."

"I'm so sorry, G. This is all my fault."

Greg looked at him, and reached out with a sopping hand to caress his cheek. "Stop it with the blame complex, Stokes. And stop piggybacking on my melodrama."

Nick gave him a small smile, and was distracted by the sound of splashing near the tunnel entrance.

It was Addams. He took in the scene before him, swallowing at the sight of Greg up to his shoulders in the water. "I've got some bad news."

"Great," Greg shook his head.

"I just got in touch with rescue again. They're stuck in a road accident and they're trying to get away from it, but they're going to be a little longer."

"Just enough time for me to find out how to grow gills." Greg raised a brow.

"Dammit, Greg, stop joking!" Nick snapped.

"I've got nothing else to do," Greg said with an edge to his voice.

"Call them again," Nick commanded Addams. "Stress the importance of this situation."

Addams nodded, and disappeared back into the darkness.

"You can't take it out on him," Greg reprimanded his partner.

"I'm not," Nick muttered.

Greg shook his head. "Nick…"

The gravity of his tone made Nick's head snap around. "No!"

"You don't even know what I'm going to say."

"I don't need to. And, no. We're not doing that speech right now."

Greg continued on regardless. "The past few months…"

"Shut up!" Nick growled. He stood and ran to the back of the Denali.

Greg shook his head bitterly. "Nick, you have to listen to me!"

There was no answer, just the sound of frenzied scrabbling as Nick threw equipment around in the back of the vehicle.

"Nick!" Greg yelled again.

"What? No, Greg!"

"Will you come here, please?"

"Wait a minute!"

Exasperated, Greg began kicking at the grate with his free foot. Every now and again he missed and kicked his trapped boot, which resulted in a strained yell. It was his cries that brought Nick back out from behind the Denali.

"Greg, what are you doing?"

His back to Nick, Greg tried not to let the beginning of frustrated tears show. "I just want to get out of here!"

"I think I have a plan."

Greg looked up at him and noticed he was clutching something in his hands. "What is that?"

"A bit of hose."

Greg could now make out the coiled length of hose in Nick's hands. "What for?"

Nick stared down at his feet. "For you to breathe through."

Greg could feel the panic start to settle in again. "What- no! What do you mean, breathe through it? If I breathe through it, it means you expect me to be…" he trailed off as it began to sink in.

"We have to be prepared, Greg," Nick said softly, fearing the words he was giving voice to. "Just in case they don't get here in time."

"They're going to get here, remember?" Greg asked coldly.

"Would you rather drown?" Nick yelled, and his face instantly fell once he became aware of what he said. "Come on, don't fight me on this."

To his relief, Greg nodded.

Nick knelt down beside him, and was worried by the increasing force of the flow of water. "When the water starts getting too high, we'll put this in your mouth and it will act as a breathing tube. I'll hold the other end above the water so that you'll always have air."

"It'll buy us more time until they get here," Greg said.

"Exactly."

"I don't want to be underwater," Greg admitted in a small voice.

"Come on," Nick said, trying to bolster his spirits by putting on a jovial tone thick with his natural accent, "You're a surfer dude! You're used to the water."

"Exactly," Greg scoffed. "I used to surf, not scuba dive. I'm not used to being under water for extended periods of time… especially not diving with a long piece of flimsy hose."

"I'll be right here," Nick said firmly. "I promise." He reached under the water and grabbed Greg's hand. "I won't let go of you."

Greg looked down at the hands clasped beneath the water. "Really?"

"I don't think this qualifies as a work PDA, Greggo."

Greg gave a low laugh. "I guess not." His eyes then widened and he looked back up at Nick. "I know this sounds dumb, but I've never been really good at swimming underwater… I can't have water going up my nose, I'll panic!"

Nick didn't have to be told by Greg that he would panic, because he could hear it in his voice. He thought desperately, and the answer came to him almost instantaneously. "Wait here, I've thought of something."

"Do you even realize what you just said?" Greg asked in disbelief, his fear momentarily distracted.

Nick ran over in his mind the last snippets of conversation, and smiled disarmingly. "Sorry." He then disappeared back behind the Denali.

"I'll just stay here, shall I?" Greg yelled, never one for belaboring the joke.

Nick reached for his kit, unsnapped it so that it fell open and began pawing through the contents. Just as his hand closed over what he was looking for, he heard it, followed by Greg frantically yelling his name.

The roar of the increase of water, the indication that a new run-off was coming through, made Nick jerk his head around the side of the Denali to take in Greg lying in the water with a new wave coming towards him. Before he got to yell anything, he saw Greg sticking one end of the hose into his mouth, covering his nose with one hand and then stretching the pipe out above his head as far as he could. Nick began running towards him, but before he could reach him the water swallowed Greg up, and the force of the wave knocked Nick off his feet. He felt the pressure of the water go over his head and he struggled to get to the surface. He slammed into the wall and broke for air, wiping water out of his eyes as he tried to get his bearings and find Greg again. The water was still rushing through, but he could see Greg's arm stretching through the rapids forming around him, the hose clear of the surface.

Nick thrashed towards him, the water trying to hold him back. It felt like a superhuman effort but he managed to get to Greg's arm and take the hose from it. Greg's arm fell listlessly beneath the water, and Nick held onto the hose while trying to discern Greg's features through the water. He couldn't make out anything in the darkness and chaos, except his own strangled breathing and the sound of rushing water in every direction. Carefully he reached under the water with his free arm, trying to feel for Greg. He was rewarded by Greg's hand grabbing his, and he felt the emotion within him break as tears threatened to explode with relief at this proof of life. Still holding the hose straight, he tried to maneuver himself around Greg and act as leverage. He could feel the weight of Greg's body against his legs, and he pushed himself closer and gave him that little extra height. He knew it was probably causing Greg's foot further pain, but he was gladdened by the sight of Greg's head breaking free from the water. Greg instantly spat out the hose and tried to take in normal breaths. He began speaking, but it only sounded like babble as his words were muffled by every other sound in the tunnel. Nick tried making soothing sounds even though he knew his own words wouldn't be heard either, and gradually the waters around them began to subside.

And now he could hear what Greg was saying.

"I'm not going to die here, I'm not going to die here, I'm not-"

"Hey!" he whispered into Greg's ear, breaking off his heartbreaking mantra. "Stop it. That's not going to happen."

"I know that!" Greg said. "That's why I'm saying it!"

They both began to laugh, with an edge of hysteria.

"Thank you," Greg tried to twist his head around as much as he could so he could look at Nick. "For helping me."

"Yeah, G, like I wasn't going to."

"Shut up. I'm glad you're here."

Nick could feel himself begin to shiver, so he knew Greg must be feeling the cold as well. "I'm glad, too. It won't be much longer, Greg." He remembered what he had been looking for before the water had risen again, and he fumbled in his pocket. "Take this."

Greg looked at the clip that Nick was pushing into his hand. "Good call!"

"One less thing to worry about," Nick said.

Greg opened and closed the clip a few times, scared to broach the subject. "Do you think I'll go under again?"

"I hope not."

"But it's a possibility."

"Yeah."

Greg nodded. "It'll be okay."

Nick still couldn't believe that at this point of time Greg was trying to comfort him, but he wasn't surprised either. "I know. How's your foot?"

"It's gone past pain," Greg said. "I can't really feel it at the moment, it's too numb." He looked around him. "I would be underwater now, if you weren't standing there propping me up."

"Don't think about it. Where the hell is Addams with an update?"

"Maybe-"

Greg was cut off by the sound of the water building again. Nick could feel himself give an involuntary moan, but Greg was stoically silent as he closed the clip over his nose and jammed the end of the hose into his mouth again; and Nick stretched his arm out just in time as the water slammed over them once more.

Nick felt he would have been pushed away if Greg's weight, and his foot anchored to the grate, hadn't been anchoring him. As it stood, it was a struggle to try and keep Greg upright and hold onto the hose as well.

And then the water was over his own head as well. Nick felt it push down his throat, and he almost dropped the hose with the shock of it. The rational part of his brain kicked in, and he knew he had to release Greg to ensure that the hose would remain dry. He let go of Greg, broke free of the water and coughed out the amount that he had taken in. Only the hose in his hand remaining upright in the water let him know that Greg was where he had left him.

Nick refused to let the despair control him. He yelled out Addams' name, but received no response. He jumped when he felt something grab his leg, but sighed with relief when he realized it was Greg letting him know he was alive. He felt something being tapped out, and could only laugh when he realized it was Morse code - SOS.

"Real funny, Greggo," he said aloud, although he knew the other man wouldn't hear him. Greg's hand came to rest behind his knee, but his grip was strong.

This time the water wasn't subsiding. Nick stared at the length of cabling that remained above the water, and his heart sank. If emergency services didn't come soon, the water would be above his head, even standing upright, which would also put it above the end of the hose. He had managed to extend time for Greg this far, but they were now running out of it.

He kept feeling Greg's hand move, reassuring him that he was okay. He knew Greg was keeping it up because he suspected Nick would panic if he stopped. He couldn't believe they had ended up in this situation, that it had all come down to this…

The rushing sound again, and Nick closed his eyes, sending up a silent prayer to whoever may be listening when a blinding light forced them open.

It wasn't the sound of water. It was trucks. Emergency Services had finally arrived.

"In here!" Nick managed to yell, despite the weakness of his voice. "Hurry!"



Below the surface of the water, it was a different world entirely. Greg didn't dare open his eyes, he was much more comfortable with the darkness of his closed lids than that of his submerged surroundings. Although the clip pinched his nose painfully, he was glad that it meant he didn't have to hold onto it himself; and the air tasted strangely stale although he assumed that was more to the plastic-y odor of the hose more than anything else. With his right hand he held onto Nick's leg, both as an anchor and to let Nick, as well as himself, know that he was still there. His thoughts tormented him as an accompaniment to the muffled sound of the water pressure in his ears, presenting him with pictures of what could have happened had Nick not been with him, or if there hadn't been hose in the Denali… he tried to reassure himself that at least he did have Nick with him, and it was the only thing grounding him.

All he could do was float in his strange limbo state, and try to distract himself until rescue came. Greg continued to keep himself calm, and take steady breaths through the hose, clutching Nick's leg firmly as he knew Nick was holding onto his lifeline to the outside world.

Nick began to move and Greg lost his hold on Nick's legs, and his upper body bobbed along in the water. He felt his hands move to the hose in his mouth as it was slipping out. He thrashed about, panic setting in, and he opened his eyes to find a fine blue light cutting through the water. It haloed around the form of Nick, who was pulling the hose free. Greg thrashed about some more, but he forced the rational part of his mind to kick into gear. This was Nick - he wouldn't be doing anything to harm him. So he let Nick take control.

He was forced to swallow a mouthful of water as the last inch of hose pulled through, but he snapped his mouth shut immediately. His detached mind immediately threw a possible chemical equation for the brackish water into his mind, and grossed him out as to what he could possibly be ingesting. Before he had time to wonder how he would continue breathing, Nick pushed something past his lips. Another swallow of water, and cool, compressed air started filtering through his system. Greg opened his eyes again. He could still make Nick out by the strange blue light, and Nick also had something in his mouth. As he moved to Greg's side the realization came to him that it was a micro-scuba tank, designed for short periods of emergency air. Greg could have laughed when he blindly made out that Nick had also attached a clip to his own nose, and could have cried when Nick settled next to him, slipping an arm around his waist and taking one of Greg's hands in his. He wasn't kidding when he said he wasn't going anywhere.

There was another form just past him in the murky distance, a mere silhouette against the light which Greg could now see was the flame of an underwater torch cutting through the grate that held his leg. He was going to get out of this.

The pressure on his eyes became too much, and Greg closed them again.

He didn't know how long it was they remained underwater, time had become irrelevant down there. But Nick was a sturdy constant presence beside him, and suddenly his foot was pulled free, and he felt himself rising free to the surface.



They broke the surface of the water at the same time, pulling the clips from their noses and their mouthpieces. Nick slung Greg's arm over his shoulder and pulled him towards the tunnel entrance, where emergency service rescuers took the equipment from them and loaded Greg onto a stretcher. It all felt surreal to Greg, the sterile lights of the ambulance a stark contrast to what he had become used to only moments before. He could hear Nick say his name, but the rest of the words were lost to him as he succumbed to the depths again.



When Greg opened his eyes once more, he was amazed to find he was in a hospital bed. He sat up slowly, and was heartened to see Nick scrunched up uncomfortably in a plastic chair across from him. He was asleep, with his mouth ajar. A fine line of drool seeped from one corner of his lips, and a light snore issued from within.

He had never looked so good to Greg.

He knew he should let Nick sleep, but he wanted him awake. There was a small hand-sized Bible in the side table, and Greg lobbed it gently across the room.

It hit Nick in his chest and he jerked awake, squinting mole-like around him.

"About time you woke up," Greg teased.

Nick gave him a beaming smile, wiping awkwardly at his mouth. "Me? What about you?" He jumped to his feet and crossed over to him. Greg was overwhelmed by the ferocity of his kiss, and returned it in kind; both of them realizing with gratification that it wouldn't be their last.

Nick stroked the line of Greg's jaw with his thumb. "You've had everybody worried. They've all been in and out to see you."

"What?" Greg asked, perplexed. "How long have I been out of it?"

"About sixteen hours. They gave you a sedative and some antibiotics to combat the storm water, they knocked you out."

"Is Grissom pissed? Is Ecklie going ballistic because the Denali got flooded? Who exactly was here?"

"No, no, and everybody," Nick laughed. "Jacqui even cried."

"You're lying!" Greg raised an eyebrow.

"She said, and I quote, This is the second time he has made me cry over him on a hospital bed. And then she threatened to kill me if I told you that."

"Don't worry, I'll protect you." Greg grew serious. "It's the least I can do."

"Don't say that, Greg. I was the one who got you into that mess in the first place."

"You didn't step on the grate and fall through it, Nick."

"Yeah, but-"

"Let's make a deal," Greg brought his knees up to his chest. "You stop blaming yourself for circumstances you couldn't control, and I'll stop blaming myself."

Nick sighed. "I'll try."

"It's the least we can do." Greg repeated. "Now, get me out of here. I want to go home."

Trying to keep it light as he wasn't sure Greg was ready to go home, Nick said, "Are you sure? Even unconscious, you've been a hit with the nurses."

"Oh yeah? Did you tell them I have a boyfriend who would take me home and look after me?"

"And ruin all their fantasies? I couldn't do that."

"Nick-"

"You're right. It would probably just add to their fantasies."

"Nick," Greg said tiredly, but commandingly. "Home."



Nick tried to talk him out of releasing himself, as did his doctors, but Greg had made up his mind. The doctors relented when Nick told them that he would be 'staying' with him. Grissom had already approved three day's leave for the both of them, but they also had to agree to front up to a post-trauma counseling session which neither was looking forward to.

When Nick pulled the car up outside Greg's apartment, he had fallen asleep again. Nick gently shook him awake, far more gently than Greg had woken him hours before. "Can you make it up the stairs, babe?"

"Not an invalid, Nicky," Greg mumbled, pulling open his car door. "It's just some torn ligaments, and they're all taped up." He swung his feet out and stood up. "Ow ow ow. And wow, everything's spinning."

Nick shook his head and came round to meet him. "Why don't I just help you?"

"Okay."

They made it up the stairs, and Nick let them in with his key, the same key that had given him access during Greg's steady stream of visitors to go and collect some clothes for him when he was released.

"I'm still feeling floogly," Greg muttered as he collapsed on his sofa.

"Floogly?" Nick asked, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it by the door. "Is that a real word?"

"It's a Papa Olaf word," Greg grinned lazily. "And it's not even Norwegian."

"Very Papa Olaf, then," Nick sat on the couch beside him, and Greg slumped down, resting his head on his lap. Nick gently stroked the strangely subdued hair, and they sat in silence for a while before Nick asked, "Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you something?"

Greg shook his head.

"Come on, let's get you to bed."

This was where Nick could tell Greg was really tired, for there were no protestations about how he had slept enough since the previous day. Nick helped him to the bedroom and sat him down on the edge of the bed as he began pulling down the covers. Greg stared into the distance, still zoned out. Nick knelt before him, and tenderly began pulling his jacket off. Greg let himself be manipulated like a doll as his jacket ended up on the floor and his t-shirt fell beside it.

Nick paused for a moment, and laid his hand on Greg's chest, just above his heart, feeling the steady beat beneath his warm skin.

Knowing what Nick was doing, Greg whispered, "I'm still here, Nicky."

"Twice, Greg. Twice in four months."

"Believe me, I'm not trying for a record. I promise you, next time you can face death."

"I'd rather neither of us did."

"Seconded." Greg leaned in and kissed him drowsily, before resting his forehead against his partner's.

Cradling Greg's head, Nick laid him down on the bed. He pulled his sneakers off, and the socks followed. Greg hooked his thumbs into his sweats and began to push them down. Nick assisted, being extra careful as he maneuvered the sweats over the bulky splint and tape until Greg lay clad only in his boxers, and then after a moment's thought he freed Greg of those as well. He wanted Greg against him, skin to skin tonight, to drink in every inch of his body, to remind him that all was well.

Greg lay supine, naked, before him. Vulnerable, but also strong and unabashed. "Are you going to stay here tonight, Nick?"

It was a strange question to ask, as they had rarely spent a night apart since they had gotten together, but Nick knew that just as he was searching for proof of Greg's survival, so Greg needed the same reassurance.

"Of course I am," he replied, starting to strip away his own clothes. "Where else did you think I would be?"

"I knew you would," Greg murmured. "You didn't leave me, even under the water."

"Of course I wouldn't." Now naked, Nick lay beside him, and drew the covers over them. Greg's arms circled his waist and he pulled Nick in towards him. Nick gave a low hiss as he was satisfied by the touch of bare skin against his own. He stared into Greg's seemingly depthless brown eyes, and almost shuddered from the emotion coursing through him. Greg stared back without embarrassment, as he felt Nick's hands seeking out his body, claiming it as real and existent.

"Are you convinced I'm okay now?" he asked.

Nick kissed his shoulder, and made his way up his neck until he claimed his mouth. "Yes," he breathed. "I love you, Greg."

"Twice in twenty-four hours," Greg murmured. "Lucky me." He snuggled in closer to Nick until there was no space left in between them at all. "I love you too, Nick. See, it gets easier to say, the more you say it."

Nick didn't doubt that it would get said a lot more from now on.

***