Title: Lift Me Up
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Zeke Barnes
Fandom: CSI: Las Vegas/A Gifted Man
Rating: PG-13
Table: Hurt/Comfort, mission_insane
Prompt: 3, Sick
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 Zeke Barnes, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Greg looked up as Zeke knocked on the door frame before he came into the bedroom, holding back a groan as he tried to sit up in bed. He wished that he didn't feel so awful, but not even the embarrassment of having his lover see him like this could get him out of bed.

He hated being sick -- but he hated being waited on hand and foot even more. It embarrassed him, made him feel as though he should apologize for causing so much trouble. He wasn't used to being treated like an invalid, and he couldn't help but find it annoying.

But Zeke had firmly pressed him back down against the pillows just a short while ago when he had tried to get out of bed, refusing to let him do anything but lie here. The only thing his boyfriend would let him do on his own was go to the bathroom -- which he could barely manage.

Greg sighed softly as he looked over at Zeke, shaking his head. "I've had the flu before, more than once," he complained, wishing that he could shove the covers back but knowing that Zeke would just pull them up over him again. "So why am I so sick this time?"

"Because you just got a flu shot," Zeke told him, his own sigh mirroring Greg's as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Sometimes the flu vaccine actually gives you the flu. It sucks, but that's the way it is. The first time I got a flu shot, I got sick myself. So I know how you feel."

"I just wish it hadn't happened now, when we've been so busy at the crime lab." Greg knew that he shouldn't fret about what was going on at work; everyone there had told him to concentrate on getting better, so he could come back to work. But it was hard not to worry.

"They can get along without you for a while," Zeke said firmly, placing a hand on Greg's chest. "It's better for you to stay home while you're sick. Otherwise, you could end up spreading the flu to the entire crime lab -- and then they'd be in an even worse position."

Greg couldn't help but nod morosely at Zeke's words; as much as he hated being home sick in bed, he knew that he couldn't be at the crime lab right now. If anyone else got sick, it would be his fault; and they couldn't afford to have more CSIs down with the flu. One was bad enough.

"I wish there was more I could do for you, sweetheart," Zeke said softly, taking Greg's hand in his own and squeezing it gently. "I know you hate just laying around and not being able to do anything. But the flu only lasts for a few days. You know that. You've had it before."

Greg nodded again, sighing as he did so. "Yeah, I know what it's like, and I know that it doesn't last all that long. But I'll still feel all weak for a few days after it passes, and sometimes that's the worst part. Not feeling like myself, but bein well enough to get up and around."

Zeke returned the nod, squeezing his hand again. "Yeah, I know how that is," he said, his tone rueful. "I've had to get up and go to work at the clinic I worked at in New York just after I'd gotten over the flu. I think I felt better when I was sick in bed and throwing up."

Greg made a face, then laughed wryly. "You hit the nail right on the head," he said, lying back against the soft pillows and getting comfortable. "At least I think I'm past the throwing up stage. That's the worst of it. But I still feel kind of crappy. I think I'm going to be here for another day or so."

"You definitely will," Zeke said, his tone firm. "I"m not taking the chance of you getting sick again. You're not the best patient I've ever had, and I don't want you to be in bed sulking about being sick longer than you have to!" he added with a soft laugh, shaking his head.

Greg had to grin at his words; he knew that he wasn't a good patient. He hated being sick, hated lying in bed with nothing to do. He would rather be working, doing something that he knew was constructive; he felt utterly useless at the moment, and he was sure that Zeke knew that.

"I hope it won't be too much longer," he sighed, taking a deep breath. "I hope I haven't been driving you too crazy, Zeke. I don't want to cause you any trouble, and I know you're doing your best to take care of me. I'm just .... kind of useless lying here in bed doing nothing."

"No, you're not," Zeke said softly, leaning forward to brush a gentle kiss across Greg's forehead. "You're here with me, and I get to spend more time with you. I'd prefer it to be under better circumstances, but as busy as we both are sometimes, I'll take all the time with you that I can get."

"You know I love spending time with you," Greg murmured, raising a hand to stroke his fingers through Zeke's hair. "But I'd rather spend time with you when I'm feeling good, not when I'm so sick that I spend half the time throwing up and making you take care of me."

"That's part of what being in love is," Zeke said softly, his words like a caress. "What is that phrase they say in wedding vows? 'In sickness and in health,' and all that? We're bound to have some bad times along with the good, Greg. They're all good to me, as long as I"m with you."

Greg blinked, holding back a sudden onrush of tears at Zeke's words. "You always know just what to say to make me feel better, don't you?" he whispered, unable to speak any louder. "No matter how down I am, you can always manage to lift me up again."

"That's just another thing you do for the person you love," Zeke told him, his voice still very soft, but a hint of laughter now underneath the words. "And believe it or not, you look kind of sexy when you're all wan and pale and you need somebody to look after you."

"You're a caregiver right down to the bone, aren't you?" Greg told him with a smile. "It's no wonder you decided to be a doctor instead of going the musician route. I'm glad you did. If you hadn't, you'd probably have stayed in New York and I never would have met you. That'd be a tragedy."

"Yes, it would be," Zeke whispered, his dark gaze holding Greg's. Greg knew that his boyfriend wanted to kiss him, but that it probably wasn't a good idea -- he didn't want to spread flu germs to Zeke. It was a miracle that his lover wasn't already sick from spending so much time with him.

Though it would be nice to have Zeke by his side all the time, he didn't want his boyfriend to get sick, too. So they had better forgo the kissing until he was feeling better -- and he sincerely hoped that they wouldn't have too much longer to wait for that to happen.

Zeke got up from where he was sitting beside Greg, heading for the door. "I'm going to make us both some soup," he said, turning back to look at his boyfriend with raised brows. "I know you might not feel like eating anything, but you need to. And so do I."

Greg turned over onto his side, making a face. "As long as I can keep it down, then I don't have any problem with whatever you make," he said, nodding. "And as long as you promise that you're going to feed it to me. There's something kind of sexy about you doing that."

"Your wish is my command," Zeke said with a grin as he turned to leave the room. Greg settled back against the pillows, a satisfied smile curving his lips. He had the definite feeling that when Zeke came back to the room, they would enjoy their time together more than either of them might realize.

***