Title: Into Your Arms
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Nick Stokes
Fandom: CSI: Vegas
Rating: R
Series: 1) The Word Is Out, 2) In the Light of Day, 3) Property, 4) Flames of Hell, 5) Bottles and Broomsticks, 6) At the Killing Edge
Author's Note: Mentions of rape/torture.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Greg Sanders or Nick Stokes, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Nick could hear the cries coming from Greg's room when he was still far down the hall; the sound made him move faster than he'd have thought possible.

By the time he reached Greg's door, he was running, frantic to find out what was wrong. If Shane had gotten back into the hospital, if he was somehow threatening Greg .... But as he skidded to a stop at the door of Greg's room and looked around, there was no one.

There was only Greg tossing and turning in the hospital bed, whimpering in his sleep, words tumbling from his lips that Nick couldn't make out until he entered the room and rushed to the bed, leaning down to firmly grasp Greg's thin arms and shake him gently.

"It hurts ...." Greg moaned, his head turning from side to side helplessly as he thrashed and struggled against Nick's grip. "Don't hurt me .... don't .... please, don't .... Nicky, help me! Nicky!" His voice rose, going from a whimper to a thin, keening wail.

The words tore at Nick's heart; Greg had needed him when Shane was raping and torturing him, and he hadn't been there. He'd been at work, immersing himself in a case, not having a clue as to what Greg was going through. Greg had needed him, and he hadn't been there.

"Greg! Greg, wake up! Come on, baby, wake up!" Nick's words were urgent, though not loud; he still didn't want anyone to hear what he was saying, in case it might get back to the rest of the team. He shook Greg again, harder this time, trying to snap him out of his nightmare.

Greg's eyes snapped open; for a moment, he obviously didn't see Nick, looking at something beyond him that was still hovering within his dream. Then, after a few seconds, his eyes focused on the man leaning over him; he gasped, his dark eyes widening.

"N-Nicky?" Greg's voice was trembling, uncertain, as though he wasn't sure that the man with him was actually Nick -- or that he was really there. He reached out a shaking hand to touch Nick's cheek, then his hair, as though to convince himself that Nick was real.

"Shhh, baby," Nick whispered, smoothing Greg's damp hair back from his face. "I'm here. It's okay .... It was just a dream, baby, just a bad dream." His heart ached all the more as he said the words; if only all that Greg had been through was just a horrible dream, rather than reality.

To hell with what anyone might think, Nick told himself, checking quickly to make sure that there was no IV running into Greg's arm, or any other tubes that he had to worry about. He shouldn't be standing here, making minimal physical contact with Greg.

No, Greg needed to be held and loved and comforted, soothed out of the nightmare he'd obviously been ensnared in when Nick had come into the room. In one quick movement, Nick sat down on the bed, then helped Greg to sit up.

Within moments, Greg was sitting in his lap, his head resting against Nick's shoulder. Nick stroked his hair, murmuring soft words, unaware of what he was saying. He only hoped that the tone of his voice would soothe the young man trembling in his embrace.

How long they sat there, Nick didn't know, but he never wanted to move. This was where he belonged, here with Greg in his arms. This was where he should have been all night, instead of working and trying to keep his mind off what had been done to the man he loved.

He hated the fact that Greg was hurting, crying softly into his shoulder; he wanted to do or say something that would alleviate his tears, anything that would make Greg feel better. But he was at a loss for words; he had no idea how to assuage the sobs that wracked Greg's thin body.

He simply sat there and held Greg, wishing that he could lift the younger man's face to his own and kiss his tears away, press gentle kisses over his face and his mouth until he was breathless. But he could do nothing more than hold Greg, and offer what comfort he could.

"I'll have to talk about it sometime, won't I?" Greg whispered, finally lifting his his head from Nick's shoulder to look up at the older man. Nick didn't want to affirm his words; he knew how hard it would be for Greg to talk about his ordeal, but it had to be done.

"You know you'll have to," he whispered, bowing his head to brush a kiss across the velvety softness of Greg's cheek. He had to avoid the dark bruise there; the sight of it made him want to cry. How could anyone hurt someone as precious and fragile as Greg?

"I don't know if I can." Greg gulped, looking down, obviously unable to meet Nick's eyes. "It's different just talking to you, or to Gil. But people I don't know .... I can't, Nick. I can't sit there and tell strangers what he did to me. I couldn't even tell the doctor."

"You don't have to talk to strangers about it, baby," Nick said softly, hoping that he was telling the truth. If it came down to a trail, then Greg would have to tell strangers exactly what Shane had done to him -- an entire courtroom full of them.

But until Shane was caught, that wasn't something he would have to worry about. For now, it was enough that Greg told him what had happened -- and possibly Gil as well, but that could come later. If Greg could tell him about it, maybe the second time would be easier for him.

"It was so awful, Nicky," Greg whispered, resting his head against Nick's shoulder again. "H-he ...." Greg gulped, obviously having a hard time getting the words out. "He said that he was going to kill me. I thought he would when he -- when he sh-shoved the broomstick in m-me."

Nick drew in his breath in a sharp hiss that made Greg raise his head; his tears had started again, and Nick felt ashamed of himself for letting his own emotions get in the way when he should be able to let Greg speak. He couldn't let his own feelings make Greg feel intimidated.

"Go on, baby," he whispered, raising a hand to stroke Greg's cheek. "You don't have to tell me all of it, not if you don't want to. But tell me what you can. It might help to get it all out." The arm around Greg's waist tightened, holding the younger man close against the warmth of his body.

Greg nodded, swallowing hard before he spoke again. "After that, he .... he told me that he wanted to loosen me up more than I'd ever been before h-he f-fucked me again." A sob followed the words; Greg's voice was choked as he continued, the words coming out between sobs.

"H-he fucked m-me with a wine b-bottle," Greg sobbed, his thin arms wrapping around Nick's waist, clinging to the older man as though he was a lifeline. "I've n-never been so scared in m-my l-life, Nicky. I thought it w-was going to .... to b-break inside m-m-me."

Greg was shaking all over now; Nick didn't want him to go on. Greg had been through far too much; he couldn't be expected to relive such a horrific experience so soon after it happened, not while the physical pain of it was still etched on his body.

Nick sat there silently as Greg wept against his shoulder, stroking the young man's hair and holding him close. He'd never felt so helpless in his entire life; all he wanted to do was stop Greg's pain, and he knew that there was no way for him to do so.

He wanted to cry himself; knowing what Greg had been through, hearing it in his own words, somehow only made it worse. He shouldn't have encouraged Greg to talk about it, not yet; he hadn't needed to hear that, not so soon after he'd seen the aftermath.

"It's okay, baby," he murmured, wishing that there was something else he could say; words had never come glibly to his tongue, and even less so when someone he loved was suffering. "I'm here, Greg. I won't leave you, sweetheart. Not ever."

Greg nodded, his thin arms tightening around Nick's waist. Nick looked down at the young man clasped in his arms, realizing for the first time that Greg's hospital gown was hiked up around his slim thighs -- and that he was naked beneath it.

Seeing the dark bruises on Greg's pale thighs broke his heart; he couldn't stand to think that his Greg, his beautiful Greg, could have been so horribly mistreated. Anger rose in him again; his arms tightened around Greg until the young man gasped in protest.

"Nicky, you're -- you're squeezing me." Nick came out of his black thoughts and back into the present when he realized that Greg was pushing at his shoulders, panic in his voice. He hastily loosened his grip on Greg's waist, raising a hand to stroke his face.

"I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to the velvety softness of Greg's cheek. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just .... I think about what he did to you and my blood boils. I want to find him and make him suffer, Greg. I want him behind bars. Hell, I want him dead."

Greg nodded soberly, looking down at himself and quickly pulling the hospital gown down to cover his bruises. "A part of me does, too. But I -- I don't think that's the way to go, Nicky. He should be in jail. If I want him dead, then I'm no better than he is."

"Let's get you back into bed before somebody comes in here and gets a good look at your ass," Nick told him, reluctantly shifting his position to let Greg lie down on his side again. "I don't want anybody seeing what's mine," he added, his voice a mere whisper.

"Yours?" Greg stared up at him, dark eyes wide and startled. "Y-you want me to be .... yours?" His voice was hushed, as though he, too, felt that they had to be secretive about anything they said, this wasn't the time or the place to discuss their feelings. Not yet.

"Mine," Nick confirmed, his gaze not leaving Greg's face. He was gratified to see an answering smile there; this was something they'd have to talk about later, but it was more than obvious that Greg had no objection to being claimed.

Both of their gazes turned towards the door as a nurse bustled in; she was carrying a syringe and had a purposeful air about her. It was obviously time for more painkillers; Greg lay back as the shot was administered, sighing softly as his eyes closed.

Nick sat there for a long time after Greg had fallen asleep, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of the young man's chest, wanting to reach out and gather Greg into his embrace again, but not daring to. Again, this wasn't the time or the place. Not here. Not now.

Soon, very soon, he would be able to take Greg into his arms with no reservations, and all the barriers between them would be swept away.

***

Next story in series - Uncharted Territory.