Title: Confessions in a Hospital
By: SidheWolf
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Rating: PG
Status: Complete
Pairing: Greg/Nick
Archive: Yes, just let me know where
Email: sidhewolf@hotmail.com
Series/Sequel: Sequel to "Confessions in a Bedroom"; The Confessions Series #4
Disclaimers: Greg, Nick, Gil and the hospital are not mine. I'm making no money on any of this.
Spoilers: "Play With Fire"
Authors Notes: Takes place right after "Play With Fire"; Rune interpretation based on the book entitled "The Book of Runes" by Ralph Blum.
Summary: Nick's final confession, and it's a good one this time.
Warnings: I've taken some license with "Play With Fire"; a few strong words

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They were changing the dressings on his back. The burning sensation had dulled after they gave him another shot of Demerol, but he was smart enough to know that he couldn't take that stuff forever. He didn't want to. First of all, it kept him so groggy that everything around him seemed to be wrapped in layers of soft cotton. And second, he hated not being in control, and that's the feeling it gave him. He felt like he was floundering in deep water without a life jacket, and the worst part was, he really didn't care that he was drowning.

The nurse was being very careful. The Demerol had deadened the pain from the burns caused by the lab explosion. Life was good, at least in the drugged haze of the moment. He really wanted her to finish so he could sleep for the rest of the day, but then he heard a voice at the door to his room and, if he had been able to move, he would have jumped to attention.

"Should I come back later, Nurse?"

*Please say ‘Yes'*, Greg begged silently, but instead the nurse finished the last of her work and gently laid the gauze over his back.

"No, please come in, Mr. Grissom. We're all finished here." And taking her supplies, she left the room.

Greg felt as if he had been abandoned in a den of lions. He struggled to turn himself onto his side, but only ended up moaning as a wave of pain tore through his upper back. Gil Grissom laid a restraining hand on his covered leg, halting his struggle.

"Lay still, Greg. You don't need to be moving around."

Greg stopped his struggle and turned his head to watch as Grissom pulled up the same chair Catherine had used the night before when she had come to see him. He sighed, and then fought to think of something to say which didn't make him sound like he was totally at the mercy of the drugs he was being given.

"Why are you here?" He finally mumbled.

But Grissom was looking intently at his back. Greg knew there was something he really didn't want anyone to see and it had to do with his back. But try as he might, he was at a loss as to exactly what it might be.

"Greg, what happened to your back?"

The questions brought back memories of a shower, and the embarrassment of confessing his secret to someone else. Someone who had abused his trust.

Plastering on his best grin, one which he was sure made him look like a lunatic since it was coming from a person confined to a bed on his stomach and not even strong enough to turn himself over without help, he bantered, "I got blown through a glass window in my lab, Grissom!"

He should have known better. Grissom's lips didn't even begin to curl in a smile. "Greg, I'm an observer. It's what I do for a living. And just by observing your back, I can tell that a lot of what I'm seeing are very old scars. This wasn't all done in a lab explosion night before last. What happened to you?"

Greg let his eyes close. He could feel himself getting sleepier. He really didn't want to be talking to his boss right now. He knew he was not in control of the situation, and he felt powerless to do anything that might make things better. He knew Gil was waiting for an answer, but he wouldn't open his eyes to give him the pleasure of seeing just how lost he really was.

"High school," he finally sighed. "No big deal."

Thank God, Grissom didn't push it any further. Instead, he sat in Catherine's chair and waited until Greg opened his eyes again. "Everyone at the lab sends their best. They all wanted to come, but the visiting restrictions say only a few people can come to see you until your back is a little better. They want to cut down on your risk of getting an infection. Burns are prone to infection, you know. So I thought I'd come and let you know we're all thinking about you."

The Demerol must really be kicking in. Greg could see Grissom through half closed eyes, and it was as if he could read his thoughts before he could hear them. Maybe he had developed ESP since the explosion. "Tell everybody I'm good," he said, but, hearing his own words, he knew they sounded slurred. "Tell them the back's okay. Tell them...tell them I can shower any time now. No one will know now. They'll just think it was the explosion. Tell them...tell Catherine I owe her. She fixed it all. After all these years, she fixed it and it really didn't hurt that much. Tell Catherine thanks."

Greg watched Grissom through his half closed eyes and saw his perplexed stare. He wanted to make Grissom understand, but his speech seemed to be meandering here and there like the waters in a very slow moving stream. The words were oozing from his mouth, and he just couldn't seem to make them stop.

"And tell Nick...tell Nick...just tell the bastard...not his trophy. Tell him...tell him to go to hell..."

The last words were only a whisper as Greg finally gave in to the pull of the sedative.

Gil Grissom sat silently watching, as sleep stole consciousness from his lab tech. And he watched as, eyes closed, a tear leaked from one closed eye and trickled across the bridge of Greg's nose to drip on the pillow beneath. What the hell had been going on in his lab?

When Greg awoke the next time, he knew things weren't good. He felt hot and sweaty and thirsty, and the nurse, who was bustling around his room, helped him to sip some water and told him he had developed a little fever due to a slight infection in the burns on his back. Someone was connecting new antibiotics to an IV which ran into his arm, and the doctor, who came in moments after he awoke, assured him that he would feel much better when he woke up the next time.

More Demerol, and sleep kidnaped him once more.

But they were true to their words. When he awoke the next time, he really did feel better. Not well enough to sit up and watch the television which hung across the room, but well enough to think about what had happened in his life since that night when he and Nick and been together.

Strangely enough, their life at work had changed very little after their night together. Greg often wondered if Nick even bothered to think about what had gone on between them. When Nick had entered the lab the next night, bringing evidence to be analyzed, he hadn't mentioned anything that had happened on the soft blue bed, and Greg had prided himself on keeping his voice steady and his eyes clear of tears. Days had turned into a week, and nothing had changed. The two did their jobs, went to separate homes afterwards, and returned to their work the next night.

But Greg realized that, whenever possible, he was avoiding any contact with Nick. He no longer visited the lounge when he knew Nick was there, and unless Nick himself had brought in evidence on a case, he made a point of returning information to the other members of the team with which Nick was working.

Although he had still been uncomfortable knowing Nick was so close, he had gotten to the point where it wasn't the all-consuming problem it had been days earlier. And then, the lab had exploded, sending him crashing through the glass window which separated it from the hallway. He still couldn't remember any details before waking up in the hospital, frightened and in pain. There were vague memories of the lab sliding past, seen from a weird angle, but that was the only impression he could bring to mind of the explosion.

Catherine had come and filled him in on what had caused the blast. Secretly, he was relieved that it had not been his own fault. The lab was filled with many unusual and dangerous chemicals. It was easy to lose concentration for a split second and find that you had done something which was deadly, not only to yourself, but to those around you. Making just such a mistake had always been one of his biggest fears. And so Catherine's confession to having caused the explosion had actually been a relief to Greg.

And now he lay in a clean bed, waiting to heal enough to leave the hospital and return to a destroyed lab and a shattered life. He drew a breath, and realized it shuddered as it filled his lungs.

And then his heart seemed to skip a beat as he heard his name called from the doorway. "Greg? Can I come in?"

The uneasiness with which the question was asked was unmistakable. Looking down toward the door from his sideways position in the bed, Greg caught his breath. He had dreaded this moment for over a week, and now, confined in the bed without a way to avoid it, he felt trapped as Nick hesitantly entered his room and sat down in Catherine's chair.

Nick's eyes held his for a moment, then fell to the floor. "I'm sorry, Greg. I should have come sooner. But I was on a case, and then you were sick and they wouldn't let any of us come visit because of the infection, and then..." he stopped and looked up at Greg. "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for, Nick?" Greg was surprised at the sound of his own voice. It seemed small and sleepy and unsure.

Nick raised his hand and began to reach forward, meaning to touch Greg's face, but he stopped when Greg recoiled from him slightly. He let his hand drop and sighed. "I'm a bastard," he whispered.

Greg was silent for a moment, watching him. Then he repeated, "You're a bastard, Nick."

He watched as Nick flinched at the words. Then he continued. "You knew what I was afraid of. You knew what would make me feel like shit. And you used it on me anyway. You are a bastard, and I don't know if I can ever forgive you for what you did to me that night."

Nick had been staring at the floor, cringing at each word Greg spoke, and when Greg was finally silent, he brought his eyes up to stare across at Greg. Surprisingly, Greg saw tears pool in Nick's eyes.

"I deserve that, Greg. I used you and I had no right to do that. But I wanted you to know that I'm sorry for what I did to you. And...God, Greg. I'll never, ever do something like that to you again. I'm so sorry I hurt you, and I really don't have any excuse. Please forgive me, Greg."

"Why should I trust you, Nick? You did it to me once. Why would I believe you wouldn't do it to me again?"

Nick suddenly stood and turned toward the door. "Greg, I know I don't deserve your forgiveness. But I'll do anything if you'll just think about it. I know I've probably lost any chance with you for any kind of relationship, but I have to tell you that if you'll just give me a chance, I'll never, ever do anything like that to you again. Please, think about it, okay. Just think about it."

As quickly as he had come, Nick was gone. And before he could make it stop, one soft sob jerked from Greg's chest as he stared at the empty doorway.

He wasn't sure how long after that it was when he heard Grissom's voice. He stood in the doorway watching and Greg tried desperately to bring himself back under control. Without asking, Grissom entered the room and took Nick's place in Catherine's chair. This time Greg accepted the comfort as Grissom reached out and gently laid a soothing hand on his shoulder.

"He told me what happened, Greg. And I really think he's sorry for what he did to you."

As tears seeped from his closed eyes, Greg gasped, "I'm afraid to believe him, Gil. You don't have any idea how much he hurt me. He acted like I was some sort of trophy that he could be proud of earning and then be held up to show off to the world. Do you know how much that hurt? Do you?"

"No, Greg. I don't know. But I do know that he risked his life to pull you away from the fire in the lab when you came flying through that glass window. Everything around you was pure chaos. Sara had been blown back against the wall but she managed to crawl away to safety. You were unconscious and the fire was racing through the lab toward the fresh air made by that hole your body had made when it exploded backwards through the window. Nick was the first one to see the danger to you and he charged in to grab you and pull you to safety."

"He saved me?"

"Yes, Greg. He saved you. I really do believe he's sorry for the way he acted. He wanted to give you this, but he was afraid you wouldn't accept it from him. I told him I'd give it to you. He said he had been reading about runes and he wanted you to have this one to replace the one he spoiled for you."

Grissom handed Greg a small gold box. With unsteady hands, Greg opened the lid and found a gold pendent.

"Nick said it was the rune Wunjo. It's supposed to signify the end of some travail that you've been passing through with a new beginning in joy and understanding and knowledge. He really wanted you to have it."

Greg fingered the beautiful pendent.

He looked at the sparkling piece for a long time and Gil finally stood, thinking he should leave. But Greg stopped him.

"I can't put it on. Would you put it around my neck for me?"

"May I?" Nick's voice was hesitant, coming from the doorway to Greg's room.

Knowing it was time to leave, Grissom walked past Nick, leaving the two men alone. Nick approached Greg's bed, still unsure as to whether he was welcome or not.

Greg stretched to look up at Nick, but only for a moment. Nick suddenly dropped to his knees beside the bed, putting him only inches from Greg's face.

"It's beautiful, Nick." Greg could hear his own voice quiver. "Thank you."

"I know I ruined the other one for you. I'm so sorry for what I did to you, Greg. I thought...I saw this rune and it just seemed like, if you could see fit to accept it, then it would have so much meaning for both of us. Maybe we could start all over again. Maybe all the stuff from before could be over and in the past and we could maybe try again to find ourselves a little happiness. God, Greg. If you'd just let me try, I promise I'd never let you down again. Just let me try."

Greg stared at Nick for a long moment. What he saw in Nick's eyes could not be mistaken. There was sorrow and pleading and love there, just waiting to be accepted.

In a shaky voice Greg asked, "Would you put it around my neck, Nick?"

And with tears streaming down his face, Nick gently fastened the rune around his neck and leaned in to kiss Greg very softly with all the love he could give.

The End