Title: Go Your Own Way
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Nick Stokes
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: Post-ep for the S11 CSI: Vegas episode "Cello and Goodbye," and a sequel to the Greg/Nick fic "Say It Isn't So". Completely unrelated to the other Greg/Nick series that I write.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders or Nick Stokes, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Nick's hands shook as he headed down the hallway towards the DNA lab where he knew Greg was working; he had to talk to his former boyfriend, to find out if what he thought he'd seen at the front door of Greg's apartment just last night was true.

What was he going to say? He couldn't just come out and demand that Greg tell him whether or not his date had spent the night; that would be going way too far. But maybe he could find out if he did a little fishing, even though he was fairly sure that Greg would know what he was doing.

All right, so maybe he wouldn't find out just what Greg's relationship with this man was, but at least he could try to apologize for what he'd done and see if he could have one more chance to make things right. Though somehow, he thought he'd thrown that chance away.

Greg had given him one last chance -- and he'd let that bitch manipulate him into a corner and had given in to her. Nick had never wanted to commit a homicide as badly as he had when she'd told him that she was going hom and leaving him to shoulder her responsibilities.

But that was what she was like, and he should have known better than to bow down to her. He'd put his job before Greg yet again, and this time, there would be no more chances. He had been stupid enough to waste the last one he'd ever be given.

Greg didn't look up from what he was doing when Nick entered the lab, not even glancing in his direction. Nick swallowed hard, standing by the doorway and staring at Greg, not knowing where to begin .There didn't seem to be anything that he could say.

What he really wanted to do was throw himself at Greg's feet, get down on his knees and beg for any kind of forgiveness, beg for another chance to be with the man he loved. But Nick sensed that even if he did do that, the answer would be an emphatic no.

"Greg, I'm sorry." The words came out in a hoarse whisper; he was glad that no one else was here in the lab to see them, because he was sure that he'd burst into tears at any moment. They were dangerously near the surface, much more so than ever before.

"Save it," Greg snapped, not looking around at him. "You asked for another chance, I gave you one. And you did just what I thought you would. Made sure that I knew your job would always be more important to you than I am. Don't bother making apologies now."

"I know it's too late for that," Nick told him, swallowing back the tears that were still threatening to spill over and taking a deep breath. "I just need to know if there's any chance that you might let us start over. You know, go out on a few dates, work back to where we were before."

"Where we were before?" Greg let out a sharp bark of laughter, setting down the vial he'd been studying. "You've got to be fucking kidding me. Like I'd ever go back to being with somebody who always puts their job ahead of me. I'm done with that."

"So I guess the man you were out with the other night doesn't put his job first," Nick said before he could stop the words from coming out. He could have cheerfully bitten his tongue as soon as he'd spoken; he hadn't wanted Greg to know that he'd been seen with someone else.

"Yeah, he does," Greg said, putting his hands on the table and leaning forward, his tone even and steady. "I should have known you'd be spying on me. Guess what, Nick? I'm not with you any more. You keep following me around, I'll get a restraining order put on you."

"You can't do that!" Nick protested, speaking again before he thought about what he was saying. "You have to work with me. You can't just cut me out of your life, Greg. I'm here to stay, whether you like it or not. You can't just turn your back on me."

"I can't when I'm at work," Greg told him, his voice a low, almost feral hiss. "But you aren't a part of my personal life any more .And if you keep stalking me, I'll go to Ecklie and Brass. I might be forced to work with you, but I'll be damned if I'll put up with you when I'm off the clock."

"I know I acted like a prick, Greg." Nick's voice was calmer now; he took several deep breaths before he spoke again, desperately trying to calm himself down. "You've got every right to be mad at me, even to hate me. But don't call me a stalker."

"Why not? That's what you were doing last night, wasn't it? Spying on me because I was out on a date with somebody who actually treats me decently?" Greg shot back, his eyes narrowing. "Don't follow me again, Nick. If you do, I will go to Ecklie."

"What's he going to do, Greg? Move one of us to another shift? It'd be you, since I've been a CSI longer than you have," Nick pointed out. He regretted the words as soon as he'd said them. He could almost hear Greg's reply before the other man spoke again.

"It would be worth moving to day shift to get the hell away from you and your obsession with me." Greg nearly spit the words at him before picking up the vial he'd been studying and moving to the microscope. "Excuse me, I've got work to do."

"Are you sleeping with him?" Nick was horrified that the question uppermost in his mind had made its way out; he hadn't meant to ask Greg that. It was too personal, too intrusive -- and it did look as if he was stalking Greg when he was that blunt.

Greg looked up at him, the color draining from his cheeks for a moment before they flamed pink with an angry flush. "That's none of your business," he grated out, his voice icy. "But if you have to know, yeah, I am. He spent last night at my place."

Nick hadn't thought that hearing those words would hurt as much as it did. He gasped, his eyes widening, stumbling back and catching the door frame for support. His knees had gone weak; he felt as though he'd taken a sucker punch directly to the gut.

"Don't look so shocked," Greg told him, one eyebrow raised as though in question. "What did you think, that I was going to sit around mourning us and wanting you back? No thanks. I'm a lot happier being with somebody who's capable of putting me before their job."

He couldn't speak, could barely breathe. Nick squeezed his eyes closed, wondering when his Greg had disappeared and this cold, distant stranger had taken his place. No, he didn't need to wonder about that. He knew precisely when it had happened.

He had killed his Greg as surely as if he'd held a gun to the other man's head and pulled the trigger. He'd killed that Greg when he had given in to Catherine and once again had made it clear that his job was more important to him that Greg could ever be.

"Just go, Nick." Greg's voice was flat, devoid of all emotional inflection. "We can still work together, but I don't want you in my life in any other way than as a professional colleague. And I'm going to request that I be transferred to day shift."

"You can't be serious," Nick blurted out. "Greg, we can at least work together. Dont do this. Don't just throw away everything we've meant to each other." He was pleading now; the only other thing he could do was to get down on his knees and beg.

"You're the one who threw us away, Nick." Greg didn't look up as he spoke; Nick might as well not have been in the room. "You did that a long time ago, when you made it clear your job was more important. Just go your own way and let me go mine. You and me are over."

He hadn't expected to hear Greg say the words so bluntly, to state the obvious up front like that. But he'd done it now; there was no turning back. Nick turned away, his head bowed, his shoulders slumping. He had no choice but to accept the inevitable.

He'd been a fool, and he would spend the rest of his life bitterly regretting his own stupidity. If only he had treated Greg better, if only he had .... There were far too many "if onlys," and he knew that they were all his fault. The blame for this rested entirely on his on shoulders.

Going his own way wasn't going to be as easy as Greg made it sound. He would have to see Greg every day; even if the other man did actually switch shifts, they would probably see each other in the locker room when Greg was coming to work and he was leaving.

They couldn't avoid each other, not as long as they were both CSIs. And Nick knew that neither one of them would leave their jobs -- Greg certainly wouldn't, and now that his job was all that he had to cling to, he had no choice but to stay here.

Without another word, he turned and left the room, afraid that if he stayed longer, the tears that were still threatening would spill over. He wouldn't be able to explain them to anyone else, and he didn't want to. He felt too raw, too exposed, to talk to anyone at the moment.

All he wanted to do was find a place to hide for a while, and contemplate what his life had come to. He would have to do as Greg said and go his own way -- but Nick knew that he would be forever changed, and not at all for the better.

***

Next story in series - I'll Be Over You.