Title: Lies In The Dark
By: it-glitters
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: NC-17
Waring: WiP
Summary: It's been a year since they broke up...

***

October 2005 - Nick's House

Greg loved when Nick was like this, so tender and gentle, so desperate for him. His hands and lips were everywhere, burning Greg's flesh, marking him. Greg never wanted Nick to stop.

"I love you," Nick whispered in Greg's ear as his hand crept under his shirt. "I love you," he said again, softer this time. It was the first time that he'd actually said it. Nick laved his tongue over Greg's jaw line and waited for a response.

Greg suddenly wanted Nick to stop. It was too much, too overwhelming. There was a reason they hadn't said those words before. Greg felt his world begin to spin. Any other day, he would have loved to have Nick pushing him against the wall, fondling his skin, but not today, not while saying those three words. Greg didn't want to be in love, nor did he want anyone to be in love with him. It wasn't supposed to be so... serious. He didn't want to have to care about anyone but himself, to have to feel for someone else, to have to be concerned with things like intimacy and sharing. He tried to think about what he could do to get out of this situation.

Nick continued to run his hands over Greg's sides, trying to understand what sort of effect his words were having on Greg. Greg was tense, from fear or happiness Nick couldn't tell, but he could feel Greg's breath quicken. He couldn't tell if it was good or bad.

Greg knew that he couldn't suddenly fake sick - they'd been together the whole day. And Nick's hand had moved down to his dick, which was already starting to lengthen. Greg silently cursed his insubordinate dick and the fact that once it took control, there was no way to predict what would happen next.

Nick dropped to his knees; he cupped Greg's bulge and mouthed it, creating a damp spot. Greg watched Nick press his nose against his crotch and inhale the musky scent of his arousal. He unzipped Greg's pants and pushed them to the floor, boxers caught in the tangle of fabric. Nick licked the underside of Greg's cock gently, just enough to tease him.

Greg thought about grabbing Nick by the back of the head and shoving his face into the wall. He wanted to punish Nick for saying those words out loud. He'd ruined it. Nick had ruined the perfect relationship that Greg had created in his head; a relationship with safety and security, with commitment, but no love. Love was too dangerous.

Greg curled his fingers into Nick's hair and dug his nails into his scalp, holding Nick in one position. He could feel Nick struggling to swallow. Greg knew he should let go, but he couldn't. He squeezed his eyes shut and waited.

Nick started to claw at Greg's hands, trying to force Greg to release him. He was dangerously close to biting down; he was having trouble breathing. He felt the pressure ease as Greg finally let go. Nick was shocked. He had thought that a little sucking would have been foreplay, but apparently Greg was just looking to get off. Nick Greg merely wanted Nick's mouth occupied. That way Nick couldn't say anything more about love. He didn't want sex, and he sure as hell didn't want love.

Nick rubbed his jaw as he got off his knees. "What the hell was that about?" He was standing no more than a foot away from Greg and leaning in. It was a battle for dominance that Nick was clearly winning, he might have had an erection, but Greg was the one against the wall with his pants around his ankles.

"Nothing," Greg lied. He bent his head down and did his best to cup his hard-on in his hands. He thought that maybe he could will it away.

"It's not nothing. I tell you I love you, you say nothing. I try to get a little foreplay going, and you try to rape my face! What's going on here?" Nick moved forward and pulled Greg's hands away from his crotch. "And what is that about?"

"Nothing." There was nothing else he could say. He couldn't look Nick in the eyes. He wanted to run, but his pants were still around his ankles.

"Greg, don't give me this nothing bullshit. I mean, it's not like you have to say it back... but I did tell you that I'm in love with you - it'd be nice to hear your opinion on it." He cupped Greg's face in his hands and tried to force Greg to look at him.

Greg tried to shrug him off and then turned his face further to the side. He swallowed hard and went with his immediate reaction. "I don't love you."

He barely had enough time to move out of the way before Nick's fist collided with the wall next to his head.

October 2006 - Desert Palms Hospital

Greg lay there, drifting in that hazy hell between sleep and wake. He was thirsty, but by the time he realized a nurse was in the room, they were already gone. It was like he was watching his life on a bad satellite delay. And sometimes he could talk, but his brain just couldn't keep up. The medicine destroyed any pretense of a filter between his mouth and his brain. That was how he had ended up telling Grissom more about his family than he had ever told Nick, even in the year and a half that they had been together, before it had all come to that abrupt end twelve months ago. It was just like managing to keep his shaking hands a secret from everyone but Grissom. Greg was willing to bet, even if he and Nick had been together back then, Nick would have never known.

He could feel the tears starting to dry on his cheeks, mixing with old sweat and antibiotic cream. He wanted someone to hold his hand for a little while. He didn't want to dream.

He leaned back and let the pain medication cloud his brain.



"Please mom?"

"Gregory, I said no. Now, for the last time, would you stop asking?"

"But mom! I don't want to be the only kid who can't ride a bike!"

"I don't care, Gregory. I said no."

*****************

"Please stop."

"Come on."

"I don't think you're doing it right."

"How am I not doing it right?"

"I don't think it should hurt this much. I think I'm bleeding."



Greg felt a weight pressing on his chest as the fog of sleep evaporated. He hated the pain medication for that exact reason - the dreams and the nightmares melded into his reality and seemed so real that he could even smell them. It was some sort of macabre hybrid of life and death, work, reality, and fantasy, mixed into a hellish world that he didn't know if he could escape.

He didn't know how long he had been out or who the new nurse was. He really wanted something to drink. He looked up at her with his good eye and licked his lips. Luckily, she got his hint and handed him a cup with a straw. He felt like such an invalid - having to wait for her to hand him a cup. To have to drink from a straw like a little kid, sipping carefully, slowly. His hand was shaking again... the hand that wasn't already immobilized.

It hurt to suck. It hurt to blink. It hurt to swallow, to move, to breathe. It just hurt. He would rather have been blown up again - surprisingly, that pain was a dull ache compared to this. He was thankful, however, that he didn't have to deal with the smell of burnt flesh or awkward attempts at changing bandages.

The nurse left, and Greg gingerly rose from the bed and shuffled to the bathroom. He had waited until she left to do it, no matter how many times he was told to stay in bed and wait for help, he still didn't like it and tried at every turn to get around it. His hips hurt - he vaguely remembered something about being kicked that didn't get any clearer when he opened his gown to pee. There were bruises everywhere, and he was glad for the holes in his memory. He had enough reminders written on his body.

He put himself back in place and started to wash his hand, even more clumsily than he would have thought with the other one bandaged. He thought about visitors until he looked into the mirror. Then he loathed the idea of visitors - he felt like he was on display. He loved attention, but he hated pity.

He shuffled back to his bed but didn't want to sit again. If he did that, he ran the risk of falling back to sleep. He nodded politely as the nurse brought his tray of food and then helped him sit on the edge of the bed to eat. They didn't want him far from his bed apparently, and looking down at his tray, he realized they weren't too keen on the idea of him eating solid food either.

He picked up his spoon with his shaky left hand. He had never been even marginally ambidextrous, so the pudding reached his mouth more by power of will than skill. He looked up when he heard a noise. The boy he had hit was dead.

....

He didn't remember crawling back into bed and falling asleep, but that was pretty much par for the course since the attack. There was someone in his room again. Someone he didn't know.

"Mr. Sanders?" It was another nurse. And there was food again. Greg wondered how they expected him to gain strength on a liquid diet. He looked at the tray - another disappointing mix of melted Italian ice, pudding, and Jell-O. He was starving, and he really wanted a hamburger. Maybe he could call someone, at least get a milkshake. The spoon and the left-hand thing weren't going so well. He needed something to quell the hunger pangs.

He saw Sara and Warrick out of the corner of his good eye, hovering as if they were waiting for an invitation to come in. Nick was with them and looked... worried. His face was pale and sallow, and Greg could sense the nervous energy around him. A small, conflicted part of Greg wished that Nick had come alone, but beggars can't be choosers. He wouldn't have known what to say anyway. He waved them in.

"Hey, Greg," Sara said tentatively, and there was that look that Greg hated. Everyone but Nick was giving it to him - pity.

Greg tried his best not to let the spoon shake too much when he brought it to his mouth. They all crowded around his bed with trepidation, like they were afraid to break him.

"We brought you some food, Greg," Sara said as she placed a bag on the table. Greg eyed it warily.

"Don't worry, G," Nick finally said. "I convinced her to get those beans you like, and I mixed it with the mild and hot salsas, too."

Greg gave him the best smile that he could, and Nick returned it with the same shyness.

Warrick jabbed Nick in the ribs. "What a good boyfriend you are," he joked. Nick and Greg had never been open about their relationship, so Warrick had no way of knowing how right he was.

Greg pawed at the bag for a minute before Sara took it from him and opened it. It smelled better to him than anything ever had in his life. He looked at the melting mush on his hospital tray with contempt as he grabbed his spoon and heaped up a pile of beans. He was confronted with a dilemma when he realized he couldn't open his mouth enough to get it all in.

"Problems, G?" Nick asked. Nick was the only one looking directly at him.

"I think my mouth got smaller," Greg said thoughtfully.

Nick tried to repress his laughter, but it ended up coming out as a choked snort.

Greg brought down his spoon and tapped off half the bean and salsa mixture. It fit in his swollen mouth better the second time. He was very self-conscious about the fact that everyone was watching him eat. He could sense they were about to excuse themselves.

"Well... uh, we're gonna get out of here," Sara said haltingly. "You know... long shift."

Greg nodded as he shoved another spoonful into his mouth. Everyone sort of nodded their good byes, but Nick lingered for a minute. Sara looked at him.

"Go on guys. I'm just going to chill with Greg for a minute." Nick waited for them all to leave before he let out a breath that he had apparently been holding since he came to the hospital.

"Jesus, Greg," he said quietly.

Greg said nothing, just shoved more beans into his mouth. That small nagging part that wanted Nick to come alone was gone. It was too awkward. After such a long time without talking, they just couldn't start again. It was too little, and it was too late.

"When I heard..." Nick started but then got choked up.

Greg swallowed. "I'm okay, Nick. Really. I mean... it's been better."

"We found your hair at the scene," Nick said as he stared through the blinds.

Greg put down his spoon. "Can we not talk about his?"

Nick wandered back toward Greg's bedside. "I realized... processing your scene... I never stopped loving you." He leaned in and Greg could see the tears threatening to well over.

Greg stared at Nick for as long as he could, but it wasn't more than an instant. He turned his head away. "I never started."

October 2006 - One week before the attack

Greg leaned against the dirty wall and didn't look down at whoever was sucking his cock. He really didn't care. He had come here to let go of all the memories. He wanted to drink and fuck himself into a dark world of oblivion. He wanted the nightmares gone from his head. He wanted Nick gone from his head.

He didn't even bother to learn the guy's name. It wasn't important. The man hadn't asked for his either. It was the back room of some sleazy off-Strip gay bar. Of course there were no names to be exchanged; there weren't supposed to be. If Greg ever returned to this place, the man that was currently blowing him would just become ‘that guy who blew me once... I think.'

He thought about counting how many drinks he had when he started, but it didn't matter, especially when the club boys started buying them for him. He was fresh meat, and everyone wanted to get him into the back room.

He hadn't always been fresh meat. When he had first come to Vegas, he was somewhat of a regular here, but that had stopped. Because there had been Jessica. And then there was Nick. There was a little overlapping of Nick and Jessica, but that wasn't Greg's fault. Jessica had known about Nick all along, and while Nick had an idea about Jessica, he had refused to acknowledge it. Eventually, Jessica fell in love with Monica and decided to stop whatever it was she had with Greg. And that was when Greg had fallen hard for Nick.

As his thoughts turned to Nick, he started to lose his erection. It wasn't that the guy wasn't doing a good job or that the thought of Nick didn't turn him on, it was that he couldn't help but feel that it was cheating to have someone else sucking him, even if he and Nick had called it quits a year ago.

It had been a year ago that night that he had told Nick to fuck off, and he still had no idea why he'd done it.

October 2006 - Three days before the attack

Greg tried to think about the first time he had felt it. He wanted to pinpoint it so that he could hold it in his heart and relive it each time he shut his eyes. But it wasn't there. There were the moments that surrounded it - the before and the after, but not the moment that he had been waiting for, not the moment that he coveted from the deepest recesses of he heart.

Greg closed his eyes and leaned back against the pillows. He could feel each carefully planted kiss of past nights on his skin, one after another. He felt them as they moved down from his neck to his chest, across his belly and finally to his groin.

He moved his fingers to his pubic hair and stroked as he imagined it was Nick's tongue swirling through the curls. He could feel his dick rising to attention, just as it had done when Nick was there. His fingers crept down to his balls and started to roll them. He wanted Nick.

He thought about taking his cock in his free hand but instead ran his fingers idly over his nipples, caressing them with tender strokes - just the way Nick would have.

He cursed himself for thinking about Nick just then. It was one thing to fantasize about Nick; it was another thing entirely to be thinking about him in the way that he was thinking about him now. He wasn't thinking about fucking Nick - he was thinking about making love to Nick, with Nick.

He wanted to pick up the phone. He wanted to dial Nick's number just to hear his voice, but he stopped himself. He always stopped himself. He closed his eyes, willed himself to orgasm, and fell asleep.

***

October 2006 - Desert Palms Hospital

Nick touched the glass of Greg's hospital room, too petrified to actually go inside. A year had passed since they had actually been really alone, forced to speak about anything not related to work, and earlier, in the short time they had shared without the others... it had gone so badly. There had only been a few times after the break up, when Nick had gone to get the last of his things or Greg had collected his stuff, that they had actually been alone. But that didn't really count. Neither of them had said anything aside from "Is this mine?" just to have it followed by the other replying, "I don't care, just take it." A great divide had come between them, and Nick wasn't sure if there was anything that could fix that rift.

Instead, he just stood there. It had been hard enough to see Greg in the hospital that first time, barely able to feed himself, hurling hurtful words at him. There was a part of Nick that had thought he would have been happy to see Greg like that, punished for his crimes in a way. But that thought had backfired, and Nick hated himself for even thinking it. Even a year after they had imploded, he would have given anything to let Greg be taken out of that hospital bed, even if it meant that Nick himself would have taken a worse beating to make it so. Regardless of what Greg had said.

He pressed his hand against the window, as if he could heal Greg through the cool glass. The staff seemed to have changed since he had been there earlier with Sara and Warrick. It was bad enough that he was lurking around his ex-boyfriend's door, but it'd be worse if everyone knew that it wasn't his first time there. No one was there that could have seen the huff he had left in. They would not know how he had gone to the bathroom to vomit or how he had tried not to cry on the way home. They wouldn't know that he had gone home, showered, tried to take a restless nap, ended up back at the hospital, apparently ready and willing for another round of abuse.

Nick watched Greg sleep the semi-restless sleep of a heavily medicated man. He wanted to hold him. He remembered how he had almost thrown up when he saw that lock of Greg's soft hair on the ground. Punching that guy - Pig-Man - was probably the only thing that held him together. He managed to keep himself under control until he was in the bathroom back at the lab, alone. Nick couldn't remember when something had caused such a violent physical reaction in him. Well, that was a lie... he could. Nothing could erase the night that Greg had said that he wasn't in love with him.

Greg's words from a year ago still stung worse than anything anybody had ever said to him. Nick had been so in love, but Greg hadn't reciprocated. That had nearly killed Nick, and there were days that he wished that it had. Today was no exception. It hurt that his friend was lying in a hospital bed, but to add the factor of an ex-lover to the mix - an ex-lover that he knew that he would never get over - that was what caused his heart to clench painfully in his chest.

He remembered the way Greg had sat by his hospital bed day in and day out after he had been locked in that box. Greg would leave to go to work, and then he would come back, no matter how exhausted he was, and he would sleep in the chair directly beside Nick's bed. And then they had gone home, and Greg had doted on him for weeks afterward. Nick would wake up from a nightmare wrapped in Greg's arms, listening to Greg whispering sweet, calming nothings. That was back when Nick thought that nothing would ever separate them; that they could conquer everything the world threw at them together.

But Greg had broken his heart. After everything they had experienced together, Greg said that he wasn't in love. It wasn't something Nick had expected, and it was something that he had never managed to accept. There was no way that they could go through everything they had and emerge untouched. Nick knew it had been a lie when Greg said it, but Greg had been so adamant about the fact that he wasn't in love and that he never would be, that Nick questioned everything since then.

He had been standing there, staring, for twenty minutes when he finally realized that the nurse was watching him carefully. He gave her a weak smile and flashed his badge. She went back to her paperwork. Nick took one last look inside and walked out of the building.

October 2005 - Nick's House

He couldn't believe that he'd just tried to punch Greg. His dick was still hard, he could still taste Greg's cock on his tongue, and yet, he still threw the punch. He was glad Greg had managed to duck in time; he wasn't sure what would've happened if he had actually hit Greg.

So he yelled. He told Greg to leave, to never come back. He knew that saying that he loved him was going to be a hot button issue. They had been together for so long, but they had never said those three words. Nick had felt it for a long time, longer than he could remember, but he didn't think Greg was ready for it. But after the days just holding each other, letting each other's wounds heal, he had thought that Greg would at least accept his love. Not reject it, not the way that he had.

He had seen a look in Greg's eyes the second he had pulled out of that punch. The hurt, the fear, and the way Greg always looked when he lied. Greg had lied.

"Tell the truth, Greg! Tell me you didn't mean it!"

"I meant it." His voice was cold and even. Unflinching.

"Stop it!" Nick put his hands up to his ears; he could feel the tears stinging in his eyes. "Stop it, right now. Just tell me the goddamn truth!"

Greg placed a hand on Nick's shoulder. "I meant it," he said slowly, and then he pushed Nick into the wall and left.

Nick didn't know how long he sat there, staring at the door, waiting for Greg to come back, to apologize. But he didn't come back. Not that night, not the next night, not ever again.

October 2006 - One week before the attack

Nick didn't much care for James, but there they were anyway. James with his ankles around Nick's neck, Nick fucking him without mercy. That was about the height of their relationship. Nick had met James through work, a closeted cop that had a thing for bottoming. Nick had a thing for cute younger guys who liked to be topped. They rarely said anything to each other than to set a time and place for their ‘sessions'. Nick refused to call them trysts, thinking that the word was too romantic for what they did. They would both come, perhaps take a nap, and then James would leave as quickly and quietly as he had arrived.

And Nick was fine with the situation since he had no love for James. He didn't want James hanging around or getting the idea that their arrangement was something other than what it was. Luckily, James seemed to feel the same way. It was sex, just sex, and they were both happy with that. Nick knew he did it because he still wasn't over Greg. He didn't know, or even care, why James did it.

Nick thrusted once more, came, and rolled off. James hadn't gotten off, but Nick didn't give a damn. Half the time, James didn't get off while they were fucking, so Nick took the time to clean up and dispose of the condom while the man who had previously been under him finished jerking off. Nick hoped he remembered to use one of the tissues that he had not so subtly left on the nightstand. He hated it when the guy came all over his sheets; he didn't want to wash them again.

Nick looked in the mirror. He was sweaty, and his bodily lust was quenched. But there was something missing. There was always that same something missing after he fucked James or any man that wasn't Greg. And he hated Greg for that. Before, he could have come and been happy about that, lying in a post-orgasmic bliss that didn't depend on who was lying next to him. Since Greg, since he lost Greg, he never got that feeling again. Nothing was as sweet to him again. Nothing was ever right again.

October 2006 - One week after the attack

It had just been a coincidence that Nick had seen Greg turning down that particular road at that particular time. Nick had just been getting some In-n-Out when he saw him. Greg shouldn't have been driving himself home. Nick wasn't sure who had let that happen, but he felt the need to make sure that Greg got back safely. Like somehow if he protected him now, it would be retroactive, and he could protect Greg from getting attacked in that alley.

Nick thought about the risks of what he was doing. About the high likelihood that Greg would see his car and know that he was following him. But in the end, Nick didn't care. He honestly hoped that there would be some sort of confrontation. Confrontation would at least be some kind of emotion from Greg, something that he hadn't seen since... well, since long before Greg had been attacked.

He waited for Greg to get out of the car before he parked. Shortly after Greg entered, Nick followed him up the stairs, feeling more and more like a stalker every moment. The irony of that made him feel ill. He sat outside on the stoop and contemplated going in unannounced. He had never returned the key that Greg had given him so long ago that he couldn't remember a time when it hadn't dangled on his key chain.

Nick sat there for ten minutes, looking at the door and then back at his key. He thought about knocking. He thought about going in without knocking. He thought about going home, alone. It wasn't the first time that he had sat on Greg's front stoop in such a quandary; it was just that this was the first time he had done so in six months.

In the end, he went home. He went home and thought about what life would be like if Greg had died in that alley. He went home. And he drank.

***

November 2006 - Greg's house, after the inquest

Greg sat on the edge of his bed, trying to breathe normally, but he knew it was impossible. He was too tense. He kept replaying Nick's words in his head. More than any other part of the inquest, more than DJ's mother and brother yelling at him, more than the jerk who kept accusing him, more than Aaron intimidating him. There was Nick. Nick was there, defending him.

He walked to the bathroom and splashed water on his face. He wanted to not want Nick, to not need him, to not love him. He wanted to be able to sleep without Nick there by his side. But he knew it was impossible. He wondered if Nick was thinking about him the way that he was thinking about Nick. He wondered if he was the only one plagued by nightmares. He wondered if Nick knew.

He walked to his bedside table and picked up his cell phone. Nick was on his automatic dial. He was there before they were lovers, and he was there after. It was just that in the after part, the number got dialed far less often. Greg knew that Nick was probably sleeping, but that didn't matter. Even hearing his voicemail would help. Something, anything that he could connect to. Greg pressed send.

"Greg?" Nick's voice wasn't even groggy. He wasn't sleeping either.

"Nicky..." Greg couldn't think of anything else to say. What could he say?

"I'm coming over," Nick said resolutely. Greg didn't even have time to squeak out a reply before the line went dead.

....

He hadn't intended on sitting directly next to the door, but that's what he did. Greg sat on the floor and waited for the knock on the door to his apartment to come. Instead, he heard footfalls followed by the sound of the key turning in the lock. He had forgotten that Nick never gave back his copy of the key.

"Greg," Nick called out as he stormed in. He looked around and started to head further back in to the apartment after he closed the door without locking it.

Greg never said a word; rather, he stood up and locked the door behind Nick, never making a sound. He was too stunned to speak. Nick wasn't supposed to drop everything in his life to just come over, and yet he had. And Greg was shocked more than he would have ever liked to admit.

He could hear Nick calling out for him again, and still he could say nothing. He was shaking and his voice had left him. His mind was shouting, but his throat was closed. There was nothing that he could do but wait for Nick to come back to the front. He was standing in front of the door when Nick finally found him.


"God, Greg..." Nick just stood there, unsure of his next move. He had known the instant that Greg called that he had to be with him, Nick had just been waiting for the invitation. He was hoping for a reason to pull out his key and enter the apartment that he used to be able to walk around in the dark without a problem. But, once he was inside, he no longer had a plan. There was no rulebook for this scenario. They could pretend at work, they could be civil with people watching. But in the silence of Greg's home, there was nothing that they could say to each other.

"Nick." Greg actually looked at him. It was something that Greg had a problem with, Greg wasn't good at lying and the longer the lie had been carried out, the less he could look at Nick... At least, that's how Nick had explained it. He had convinced himself that everything that Greg had said since that October night was just a lie, but he had nothing to prove that, and all of Greg's actions had shown that Nick was the one lying to himself.

"It's okay, Greg." Nick inched closer.

"It's not." Greg stood still.

"It wasn't your fault. He was going to kill you." He moved closer still.

"And one of us still died. Why is my life more important?"

"Because, Greg. It's just... you saved someone. That kid and all of his little friends were going to kill Tanner, and then they were going to kill you."

"What if... what if things had gone another way?"

"What other way could they have gone, Greg? You weren't about to let them kill him. That's not you. I know that's not you, baby." It was the first time that Nick had called Greg anything but his name, or variations therein, in over a year.

"I just..." A single tear started to trail its way down Greg's face.

"Nothing, Greg. There isn't anything more you can do now." Nick was dangerously close now.

"I..." Greg didn't get any further, he just let Nick take him in his arms.

Nick held him there until the slow, steady tears stopped. Nick placed a hand into Greg's soft hair and just held him close. There had never been a time before that Greg had been like this. Not in their darkest hours, not even in their own private space where no one could have ever touched them. Greg just wasn't that open with his tears.

"It'll be okay, baby," Nick whispered gently.

Greg finally broke the embrace. "They hit me with a civil suit. I got served." He tried to pull away, but Nick wouldn't let go.

"I'd expect as much. Those people... They were... I don't ever know what to say. I mean, she lost a son. But that could have just as easily been your mother up there testifying."

Greg recoiled at the thought of his mother, up on the stand, testifying at the death of her only child. "No," he whispered as he pressed himself against the front door.

"Greg? Are you ok?"

"Maybe you should go."

"I'm not leaving you. Not this time. You can't get rid of me now." Nick moved in and cornered Greg against the door. "Let me stay with you."

"It's not... We shouldn't."

"Let me."

"Why?"

"Because this is where I want to be. This is where I need to be. Stop pushing me away, dammit!"

Nick's lips were mere millimeters away from Greg's, and for a moment, Greg felt right. "Stay," he whispered, saying it more for himself than Nick. "Stay with me."

Greg took Nick by the hand and led him to the bedroom. He knew that there would be nothing more than holding going on, but that was enough. It was what he needed - to be held by someone who wanted to hold him just because, not someone who wanted to hold him like he was fragile, breakable.

Greg let go of Nick's hand and crawled onto the bed, still fully dressed.

"Aren't you going to take off you clothes?" Nick paused and blushed. "I mean, you know, your, uh..."

"I'm thinking about it," Greg said, staring up at the ceiling. He didn't make a move to do anything.

Without saying a word, Nick started to untie Greg's shoes. They landed by the foot of the bed. Next, he took off the socks and watched as Greg wiggled his toes and let out a happy sigh.

"Thanks, Nick."

"Don't worry," Nick said as he crawled onto the bed and undid Greg's belt. Greg's suit was a mess from wearing it all day, all wrinkled and rumpled. "Let's get you out of these." Nick unzipped Greg's pants.

"No funny business, Nick."

"I know." It didn't stop Nick from ghosting his fingers over Greg's thighs as he pulled the pants off. He could feel Greg shudder at the contact. Nick tossed the pants aside. "Up," he commanded.

Greg sat up and allowed Nick to remove his jacket and dress shirt. All that remained were his boxers and undershirt. Nick stopped removing clothing and stripped until he was clad in only boxers.

Greg leaned back into the pillows, still unable to sleep.

"Roll over," Nick said as he gently pushed on Greg's shoulder.

"Huh?"

"I'm going to give you a massage. Just, roll over, would ya?"

Greg rolled onto his stomach, stretched out his arms, and laid his head on a pillow. He closed his eyes and let his mind finally free itself from the thoughts of the day as he felt the first touch of Nick's hands on his back.

He could barely feel Nick touching him at first, just the gentle glide of Nick's hands over his skin, carefully tracing every scar, every freckle as if he had forgotten them over time, yet Nick's hands moved with the speed and grace of a seasoned veteran.

Nick shifted his position until he was finally straddling Greg's thighs. It was a position that he had once been very familiar with... a lifetime ago. His hands moved their way up to Greg's shoulders and started to work out the knots with swift, steady motions, lingering over the problem spots until he felt Greg's tension leave up, even if it was only slightly.

Nick could see that Greg's eyes were growing heavy.

"Greggo?"

"Hold me," Greg whispered as he toed the blankets of his unmade bed. Nick rolled off and leaned down to pull the mess of bedding over them. He took Greg into his arms and held him, breathed in time with him until they fell asleep.

....

Greg couldn't remember the last time that he had woken up feeling so rested, so safe. There hadn't been any nightmares and his bed hadn't felt so warm and comforting since... Nick.

Greg felt something sticky and moist moving over his neck - lips. He tried to shake the cobwebs from his mind as to why there was someone in his bed. He never brought anyone home. Not since Nick.

He remembered the phone call and Nick's dramatic entrance into his apartment. The way Nick had held him, undressed him, touched him. The way Nick's hands had felt on his skin, the way Nick made everything just vanish. And now, Nick was kissing his neck lazily, one arm under the pillow, face half-buried, other arm slung heavily over Greg's chest.

Greg didn't want to wake him, but he couldn't stay in bed any longer. He tried to slip out without Nick noticing, but the second he moved, Nick was on him, tightening the arm around his chest.

"No," Nick moaned sleepily as he curled in deeper.

"Nick, get off. I have to pee." He pinched the skin between Nick's thumb and index finger. Nick begrudgingly let go and watched through one eye as Greg shuffled to the bathroom.

Nick buried his nose in Greg's pillow and inhaled the heady aroma that he had missed for the past year. He heard the toilet flush, followed by the sounds of Greg brushing his teeth. Finally, Greg came out of the bathroom.

"Uh, are you thinking about getting up?" Greg asked as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt.

"Not really," Nick said curling further into the bed.

"Don't you have to go to the bathroom?"

"I got up a little bit ago. I'm good." He glanced at the alarm clock. "There's still another two hours before we even have to think about getting up. Come back to bed," Nick said as he tossed the blanket over, leaving a hole for Greg.

"I'm fine over here."

"Come on, Greg."

Greg thought for a moment before sitting on the very edge of the bed. He wasn't exactly sure about what was going on, about what Nick was thinking. He got his answer the second he felt Nick's hand on the small of his back.

Greg shot up. "I think I want some coffee. You?" he asked, practically running out of the bedroom. He made his way to the kitchen and pulled the coffee beans out of the freezer. He dropped the open bag and cursed and crouched to pick it up and a few of the beans that had escaped.

"Baby, come back to bed."

Greg tensed when he heard Nick's voice behind him, close.

"Nick," he said as he stood up. "What do you think you're doing?"

Nick wrapped his arms around Greg's waist and kissed his neck. "I'm thinking you should come back to bed, and we can finish what we started."

Greg pushed Nick away. "And what, exactly, did we start?" Greg asked, backing away.

"Last night. When we were kissing." Nick said slowly.

"I didn't do any kissing."

"When we were in bed, you rolled into me. You said you loved me, and then you kissed me."

"I was asleep. Probably having a dream about someone."

Nick stepped backed, stunned. He had thought Greg might have had some sort of breakthrough after the inquest, something that would have made him more open to the possibility of love. Nick thought the look they had shared at the inquest had actually meant something. That them going to bed together, that the kiss had actually been real. Nick knew he had just been deluding himself. Greg had said it, said that he had never been in love, on more than one occasion. And Nick had still held on to hope.

There was a point in his life where Nick would have fought back, fought for them. But it had been a year since there was any sort of them.

"I guess, uh, I'll just get my clothes and go." Nick had nothing left to give. Greg had broken his heart for the last time.

Greg remained in the kitchen and listened to Nick getting dressed. No words were exchanged as Nick placed Greg's key on the counter and walked out the door.

Greg thought about cleaning up the rest of the coffee beans from the floor, but instead he just walked around them and crawled back into the spot on the bed that Nick had vacated. He lay there until the alarm rang.

August 2005 - Greg's bed

"Don't get out of bed," Nick moaned into Greg's neck.

"I don't have the day off like some people do," Greg said as he struggled against Nick's embrace.

"Stay. I'll make you come."

Greg thought about it for a moment. "I can't be late for work." But he didn't actually leave the bed.

"It'll be quick."

"Quick and good?"

"Don't do something unless you can do it right, my momma always said."

"Don't talk about your mother when you're grabbing my cock," Greg chastised.

"Ok." Nick pulled until Greg's back was pressed against his chest. Nick hooked his leg over Greg's hip and locked them into place as he began to stroke Greg's cock.

Greg moaned and leaned back into Nick's welcoming embrace. He could feel Nick's hard-on pressing into the back of his thigh.

"How fast do you want it?" Nick whispered.

"Fast enough for you so that there's still time to hold me afterwards."

November 2006 - Nick's car

Nick got into his truck and willed himself not to cry. It was his own fault for believing Greg had changed at all. He berated himself for inviting himself over, for using the key that he shouldn't even have had. He should have listened to that little voice in his head that told him that Greg was asleep when he had kissed him.

He resigned himself to not pine after Greg any longer. He couldn't take the heartache anymore; saying that he was in love and getting shut down once was bad enough, but a second and finally a third time was too much to bear. He was done with Greg. It was a promise that he made to himself. He repeated it to himself as he pulled out of Greg's parking lot.

***

Greg's Apartment - November 2006

Greg couldn't believe that he had managed to keep his mother in the dark for so long. He knew that Grissom had notified her when he was in the hospital, but it must have been worded in such a way so as to not send her into immediate panic, because she didn't pack her bags and come out. And for that Greg was grateful.

He had managed to talk to her on the phone a few times, keeping her calm by lying and saying that the things she had been reading were about someone else, a co-worker he didn't really know well. He had even gone so far as to tell her that he had been in the lab at the time of the incident. The lies stopped when the inquest occurred.

His name had stayed out the papers when he had just been the victim. He was just an ‘unnamed CSI'. When the hearing happened and he was suddenly someone who might have done something wrong, his name was released and his picture was everywhere. They were mostly shots of him exiting the courthouse, but they were definitely pictures of him.

It took two days for Greg's mom to finally get the truth from a variety of sources, none of which were her son. She didn't call to tell him that she was coming; she just left a note for her husband and got into her car. She figured she'd be ratted out before she made it to Las Vegas, so she turned off her phone and drove.

Greg's father, Morris, never called his son. He came home, saw the note and the computer printouts explaining what happened to Greg, and figured it was for the best that his wife was out there. Greg obviously needed someone, and he wasn't going to stop Marie from thinking it was her.

Greg was lying in bed when the frantic knock sounded on his door. He hoped it was Nick, but he knew that was wishful thinking. Because even if it was Nick, he'd only end up saying something to make him leave again, and he'd feel worse than he already did.

He made his way to the door. He looked through the peephole and saw his mother there, bag in hand, looking frazzled. Greg swallowed deep and prepared for the worst as he opened the door.

"Gregory Hojem Sanders, you give me one reason that I shouldn't tie you down and take you home right now." She didn't come in, just stood in the doorway, seething with anger.

Greg left the door open but turned back into the apartment. "Because I'm a grown man nearly twice your size and there's no way you could win, even in a fair fight."

She stepped inside, threw down her bag, and slammed the door. "What were you thinking. I don't even know what to be angrier about. Should I be upset that you were nearly killed? Should I be mad that you never called? Should I be hurt that you didn't want us here?" Marie Sanders was blinking back tears, her voice shrill, and Greg wouldn't even turn around to look at her.

"What did you want me to say, mom? I didn't want to tell you because I didn't need more stress? Is that what you want to hear? I couldn't handle telling you because I didn't want this to happen," he said as he turned around and waved his arms outward.

"You didn't even have the gall to tell me that you left the lab," she said through gritted teeth. "What kind of son have I raised?" She stepped closer to him.

"The shit I haven't told you could just about fit into the Grand Canyon, mother," he snapped back.

That was when she slapped him. Hard. He turned his cheek and didn't move as Marie stepped back, covering her mouth. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

Greg moved his jaw and rubbed his face. "Are you done now? I'm not exactly in the best of moods, and dealing with you just isn't on my list of things that I want to do."

Marie stepped back again. "I'm sorry. I've just been so scared and worried and angry." She was trembling and on the verge of tears again. "Can't you just talk to me?"

"Not now." Greg replied listlessly as he headed to his bedroom. He stopped midway there and sighed. "Do you have a place to go?"

"No... I was just thinking that I would stay with you."

"Enjoy the couch," he said as he went into the bedroom and closed the door behind him.

June 2005 - Nick's House

"You don't talk about your folks much, do you Greg?" Nick asked, holding Greg in his arms as they lounged on the couch.

"Nah. I left that behind me when I left home." Greg was idly playing with Nick's fingers, spreading them apart just to push them back together.

"Do you want to tell me now?"

"Eh." Greg shrugged noncommittally against Nick's chest. "My mom's always been overprotective. She wanted a big family, but she just kept having so many miscarriages. She had me by the skin of her teeth when she was 35, and after I was born, she had to have an emergency hysterectomy. Which meant all she was ever getting was me. And then I turned out to be smart. Which meant by the time I was 16, I was running from that house."

"16?"

"Yeah. I mean, obviously I had to go to college early. Four years of undergraduate, two years of grad, and I still managed to get some experience in with the San Francisco PD before coming out to Vegas. I think you forget that I was only 24 when I moved here."

Nick watched contentedly as Greg played with his fingers. "I guess I forgot that you had to have at least a master's."

"How else could I run a DNA lab?"

"I never really thought about it."

"Most people don't." Greg sighed. "So, yeah, it's not that I don't love my folks. I just had to get out of there before I went insane. And even then... After I grew into my body, I went a little more insane than I would like to admit."

"And look at you, all settled down with me."

"My knight in shining armor," Greg said as he kissed him.

Greg's Apartment - November 2006

He had locked the door behind him, to keep his mother out as much as to keep himself in. He picked up a business card from the dresser and flopped onto his bed. Greg pulled the cell out of his pocket and dialed. It was something that he didn't want to do, but if he didn't keep up with the mandatory schedule, he would be taken out of the field and put right back into the lab he'd escaped.

He went to Dr. Ricard for his biweekly one-hour appointments and said exactly what he knew he should be saying. It was as if the whole thing was scripted, which was the way he liked it. He knew that the good doctor was a departmental slave, always looking out for what was best. Any derivation from their script would most likely get back to Ecklie. Greg knew that his sessions, being state-mandated, were not entirely confidential. And that's why he never brought up the one thing that he wanted to talk about, his relationship with Nick.

Being involved with a co-worker was already frowned upon by the department, especially a co-worker that was his superior and one whom he worked with so closely. If he added homosexuality to the mix, it would probably be the final nail on the coffin of his career. He knew that he already had one foot in the ground with everything that had happened. He didn't need to give them another reason to can him.

Greg set the appointment and closed the phone. He reached over to the other side of the bed, where Nick had lain just a few hours earlier, and swore that he could still feel him. Greg laughed at himself; it was the only thing that he could do. He was alone because of his own stupidity, and he would always be alone because of it. All he had left to do was laugh because he just didn't want to cry.

He opened his cell phone once more and texted Remember what I said about my parents? to Nick. It was a desperate effort, but Greg knew that Nick wouldn't be answering any phone calls from him.

Nick's House - Same Day

Nick had just opened a bottle of water when he heard the beep of his cell phone. He chided himself for not changing the notification sound to something less angry, but it was too late for that. It was also too late to stop the kicked feeling he got when he opened his phone and saw who the message was from. Greg.

The rational part of his brain told him that it was another one of Greg's ploys for attention, that he should close the phone and not think about it ever again, since that was what he had promised himself in the car. The irrational part of his brain, the one that was still in love and controlled by his heart, forced himself to read the message.

Yeah, I do he texted back without even thinking about what he was doing. Now he was going to be chained to the phone, waiting for Greg to respond. Just another way for Greg to control him, he supposed.

The phone beeped again. She's here. My mom. Crashing.

Did she tell you she was coming? Nick replied.

No. Showed up. Didn't tell her about the beating,

Nick couldn't stop the involuntary cringe. He sat down on his couch and stretched his legs. You OK?

Sorry about this morning.

Nick blinked and read the message several times before hitting the reply button. It was the first time that Greg had come close to saying anything that resembled an apology. And then it was just there, out of the blue and unprompted.

It's OK. Do you want to come here? Nick hit the send button before he could convince himself that it was a bad idea.

30 minutes.

Nick stared at the phone in disbelief. He was allowing himself to play the game again. He didn't know that he liked being kicked when he was already down that much. He didn't text anything back. He didn't have to. He threw the phone into the far armchair and waited.

***

Greg parked his car in front of Nick's house. It had been a while since he had last done that. Once it had been over between them, it was Nick who pursued anything... as if there was anything that could be pursued. Getting out of his car, Greg thought about the time when he and Nick had actually discussed Greg finally getting out of his apartment and moving into Nick's house. It seemed logical at the time. They had been spending so much time at each other's houses and they had both agreed that moving into Nick's house would make more sense than moving into an apartment. They had even decided upon most of the basics - how Greg was going to pay half the mortgage, and Nick would pay the utilities if Greg bought the groceries. Greg had even started to price moving companies.

And that's when he hadn't been able to say what he should have said all along. Greg kicked the wheel of his tire, thinking that if he had just told the truth a year ago, they wouldn't be... wherever they were now. He knew that he wouldn't be standing outside of Nick's house, wondering if he should go in. He wouldn't be running from his apartment to get away from his mother. And, in all honesty, if he was living with Nick, his mother would have refused to set foot in the house anyway.

It wasn't that his mother had anything against being gay. She didn't. Her parents were liberal-minded, and she had spent a lot of time in San Francisco. Many of her friends were gay. She supported gay marriage, she was active in the equality movement, but she had a set of double standards for her son. It wasn't that she didn't want him to be happy, but no wife for Greg meant no grandkids for her. And that was unacceptable.

So, Greg had never told her about his preferences. He liked girls as well, that was something that he wasn't going to deny; but even if he had ended up with a woman, he had decided a long time ago that he just didn't want children. And that's why he kept his mother out of his relationships. It didn't matter if he ended up with a man or a woman, he just wasn't going to give her the grandchildren that she wanted.

He had actually blamed her for his attraction to men at first. He had blamed her for not letting him have sex. Not in the traditional sense. She had started telling him before he could remember that getting married and having babies was the one great joy in life, and that he should do it as young as possible. And that was the exact reason he had never had sex with his high school girlfriend, Beth. He had made the mistake of inviting her over for dinner when he was 15 and she was 16. She had spent the whole night telling Beth what wonderful childbearing hips she had. They broke up the next day.

That was why Greg had become so fascinated with masturbation. If his semen ended up on his hand, then there was no way that it could get anywhere near a woman's uterus and nowhere near her eggs. Semen on his hand was a good thing. And then he realized while watching porn one day that semen in the anus or in someone's mouth was good as well. When he lost his virginity at 22, it was with an easy girl that he met at a club that let him have anal sex with her. It wasn't until a year later that he had had regular intercourse with a woman; that was only after he verified that she was on birth control, and he still used a condom. The year after that, he started having sex with men and avoided all possibilities of an unwanted pregnancy. He had already stopped talking to his mother by that time.

Then he moved to Vegas and started sleeping around. It was fun for a while, but Nick had caught his eye. They had started dating, and even getting serious. And that's when his training had kicked in. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in the baby carriage. He could still hear his mother's voice in his head chanting that childish refrain. He was fine with love, and maybe even marriage, but it was the next part of the progression that scared him so much. The baby in the baby carriage. So, he would cut it off before it started. No love meant no marriage, no marriage meant no baby's carriage. And then he would be safe.

The moment Nick decided that he had to go and fall in love was the moment that it had ruined everything. Greg couldn't be in love, because he couldn't handle the third step. So, he left. And that left him alone.

Greg looked again to Nick's door, and without even having to knock it opened for him. Greg resisted every urge to just run to Nick as he appeared in the doorway and explain, but he couldn't. Nick probably wanted kids. A nice Southern boy from a big family... he probably wanted a big family of his own. Probably. And then it occurred to Greg that he had never asked. He had already assumed. But then again, it was probably too late.

"Hey Greg," Nick said quietly. "Are you coming in?"

Greg couldn't make eye contact with him. He looked back towards his car and tried to imagine a baby seat in it. And he couldn't. He didn't want to. That was something that he just didn't want, but he couldn't deny Nick something so huge like that. If that was what Nick wanted.

"Greg?" Nick called out again, trying to get Greg's attention. He took a few steps out of the doorway and towards him. "What are you thinking about?"

Greg swallowed and continued to look out towards his car. "Do you ever think about things?" he asked vaguely.

"Sometimes. I mean, I think about lots of things. You're going to have to be more specific there, Greg." He had continued to move and was just behind Greg, trying to figure out what Greg was so intently staring at in the backseat.

"Do you know what my mom wants from me more than anything?"

Nick furrowed his brow, trying to remember the few things that Greg had ever said about his mother during their relationship. There wasn't much, so he went with the old standard. "She wants you to be happy?" It was more of a question than a statement.

Greg spun around. "No. That's not what she wants. If that's what she wanted than this," he motioned to the both of them, "would be easier. But that's not what she wants."

"She wants you to be with a woman?"

Greg snorted. "I could handle it if she wanted that.

Nick was frustrated. He had already decided that he didn't want to deal with Greg's games anymore, and yet, Greg was there, starting up another one. He turned on his heel. "I'm not in the mood, Greg."

"Don't you want to know why, Nick? Don't you want to know why I could never tell you how much I love you?" The words flew out of his mouth unrestrained.

Nick stopped in his tracks. He hadn't expected that. He had already resigned himself to the fact that Greg didn't love him. It had been a year after all. He apparently hadn't loved him when they were together, and he had said he didn't love him when they were apart. That was the rules. That was what he had known and what he had clung to. It was the only way that he had even a chance of moving on from it.

"Well?" Greg stood next to his car, making no attempt to close the gap between him and Nick.

"Yes," Nick managed to squeak out, still unsure of what it was that was happening.

"She wants babies," Greg said, spitting the last word out like it was poison. "She wants lots and lots of grandbabies that I don't want to give her. And first comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage." He practically sung the last line. "And I don't want number three."

Nick stood silent for a moment. "And what about 1 and 2?"

Greg shrugged noncommittally to Nick's back. "I like the idea of 1, and maybe 2. Although I'm still undecided about number 2."

"And what about 1 with me?" Nick still hadn't turned around.

"If it's not too late?"

Nick finally turned back around. "I wish I could say for a fact that it wasn't, Greg. I wish I could just say that you finally admitting it was enough, but I can't. I think..." He paused and looked up at the sky. "I think that maybe I'm not in love with you anymore. And even if I was, I can't be with you like this. It took you two years to say any of this to me. And I know you, you'll never tell your mother, and I can't live like that. You know that I can't. I can't have you halfway. Maybe in another time I could have moved past all of this but... I'm with someone else now." The last part of it wasn't really a lie, he was having sex with someone new, but truth be told he didn't really like him.

"So I'd heard," Greg said sadly.

"You knew?"

"Yeah. He and I had... words. He was," Greg cut himself off; not sure if he should tell Nick the things that he had overheard James saying to a friend. For a cop who was in the closet, James sometimes had a hard time keeping his mouth shut, especially when he was doing it with a hot ‘straight boy' CSI.

Nick blinked a few times. "So, he talks about it?"

"I just... I overheard him talking in vague sort of references once, and I knew that it was about you. I confronted him. That was it." Greg picked at the sleeve of his coat and shifted his feet. "He doesn't love you, you know."

Nick kicked the rocks by his walkway. "Of course I fucking know!" He knew it mostly because he knew he didn't love James, just as much as James didn't love him. James was a distraction, a way to pass the time, and Nick was fine with that. Fine... until Greg had to come in and destroy his life once more.

"Nick, it's cold out here. Are you going to invite me in, or are we just going to stand here, staring each other down like in a bad Western?"

Nick's face softened momentarily. "And here I was thinking that you never paid any attention when I put those things on."

"I always paid attention. To everything."

"I don't know if you should come in." He rubbed his neck. "I'm finally getting my life in order since you... did what you did. And then you come in here and tell me all these things that I was ready to hear a year ago, Greg. A year ago! You can't undo all that time."

"Let me try?"

"You're holding something back, Greg. I can still feel it. I can still tell that there's something that you're not telling me."

"I need to know something."

Nick scoffed at him. "So you come here to ruin my life, and make demands? You're a piece of work, Greg."

"I just have to know what your stance is on kids. Because I don't want them. And that'll never change."

Nick looked at the ground, trying to figure out if he wanted to tell the truth or not. The lie would hurt him and the truth would hurt Greg. "I think I do. Want them."

Greg shook his head. "I love you," was all he said before he got back into his car and drove away.

Nick watched the car for a moment and then turned back into the house and slamming his hand against the door frame. He let his head rest against his hand and wondered how it had gotten this bad.

***