Title: Mr. Reliable
By: kennedy
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Note: Beta'd by the stellar Catlover2x.
Summary: Nick yells, and Greg runs. Post ep for Post Mortem.

***

When Greg got home that night and told Nick he had been served papers for an impending civil suit, Nick turned away from him and punched the wall. Greg flinched, and tightened his grip on the bag that he hadn't even managed to yet put down. They were still standing in their entryway, Nick had been able to tell something was wrong as soon as the front door was opened.

Part of him wished he hadn't said anything. Nick was now wincing, and holding his hand gingerly. Greg's mind clinically took in the possibilities: fracture, split knuckle, bruising? What was it to be this time?

He hated that Nick was acting this way. The more rational side of his brain demanded that he try to see things from Nick's perspective - that he was also hurting, that he wanted to protect Greg, to make things better. But instead he was making them worse. This new violent, aggressive side of him was putting Greg even more on edge. Not that he feared for a second that Nick's fists might rain upon Greg himself in misplaced anger, but that it might explode in one giant vigilante horror that would make things even more fucked up.

Or fuck them up. For one moment he found himself looking into the dark pools of Nick's eyes, and he didn't like what he could see.

"You have to calm down," he said, harshly.

In disbelief, Nick stared him down. "Calm? How can I be calm? You're the victim here, Greg!"

That did it. Greg pushed out around him, and threw his bag upon the arm of the sofa. "Don't you use that word for me. I'm not a victim." He headed for the kitchen, thinking that if he started to put dinner together it would give him a distraction to stop from lashing out at Nick and saying something he would regret.

No such luck. Nick had obviously been in the midst of cooking when he came home. Greg swore under his breath, and turned back, just to come face to face with Nick who was dogging his every footstep.

"Gee, Greg, you were the one lying in hospital for most of a week, what do you think that makes you?"

Greg planted a hand in the center of Nick's chest and pushed him back as hard as he could. "Not that."

Nick stumbled back, shock evident on his face. He almost fell, and Greg automatically reached for him, but Nick righted himself and smacked his hand away.

They glowered at each other from opposite sides of the room.

"What is with you?" Nick panted. "You have to talk to me, Greg. Please."

But he didn't want to talk. It seemed like lately all he had done was talk. What he wanted to do was run.

So he did. He snatched up his bag from the arm of the sofa and took off for the door. Nick was right behind him, calling his name but Greg ignored it.

And then he was flying down the driveway, expecting to hear Nick's footsteps behind his own, hoping that they were. But there was no echo. As he jumped into his Jetta, he looked up at the front door to see if Nick was at least standing there.

He could only see the flash of Nick's arm, the rest of his body in shadow, as the front door slammed. Greg sat behind the steering wheel, his mouth open. Then his instinct to flee kicked back in, he turned over the ignition, and the Jetta laid rubber as it shot out into the street.



Nick turned up for work that night without having slept. He had wanted to run after Greg, but the look on his face had been livid and untouchable. It was not a face that invited a rescue complex to swing into action. So he had let Greg go, hoping like the proverb that he would return.

He didn't.

Nick had called his cell too many times to keep count, but it had always gone immediately to voicemail. He hoped that Greg had gone to Sara's, or some other perceived shelter. He couldn't handle the idea of an angry Greg out on the streets, maybe looking for trouble. Or wanting trouble to find him, and exact the punishment he felt he deserved.

After a few hours he started to really worry. The James kid still had it in for Greg. What if he was still following him, thinking that the upcoming civil trial wasn't revenge enough? Greg could be in real danger. Nick gave Sara a quick call, but she gave no indication that she had seen or even heard from Greg that day. He drove the streets himself for a while, checking out their usual haunts, craning his neck to see if the distinctive Jetta was parked anywhere.

His search was unsuccessful.

He was on edge and anxious when Grissom called him into his office. His supervisor stared out at him over the top of his glasses. "Do you require leave, Nick?"

Nick stared at him blankly. "Why?"

"Well, Greg called in sick and told me about being served. I arranged emergency leave for him, and I thought you might want the same."

Greg had called in? That was a relief, at least. But, leave? What was he up to? Was he planning to go back to California and visit his parents?

"Nick?" Grissom repeated, looking as concerned as Grissom could get, which to a stranger would probably still seem vague and remote.

"Leave?" Nick asked hesitantly. "Would that be okay?"

Grissom nodded, and it was as simple as that.

Moving as if he were in jello, Nick headed back for the parking lot. Greg had obviously given no indication of his... leaving, if it was leaving, to anybody. This meant that in his current state, he was still acting somewhat rationally. He punched in the number for Greg's cell on speed dial, but it still went to voicemail. He wanted to throw his cell against his truck in frustration, it was only the thought of Greg finally trying to reach him and being unable to that restrained the impulse.

It was then that he remembered punching the wall, and how that had segued into Greg's running away. The strength seemed to leave his knees, and he thought he would topple over if he didn't sit down right there and then, so he did... among the grease stains of the concrete flooring, his truck at his back, and tears stinging his eyes. His hand still throbbed from the contact with the wall, but it had been the last thing on his mind since Greg had walked out their door. Maybe he needed to get it checked out, but he couldn't do anything until he spoke to Greg.

He shakily got to his feet, climbed into the cab of his truck, and headed for home.



Greg's Jetta was in the driveway when he pulled in. His heart in his mouth, Nick threw himself out of his truck and leaped up the stairs of their porch. He fumbled with his keys and was still trying to find the right one when the door opened, and Greg stood before him.

Before he could say anything, Greg's arms reached out for him and pulled him into a strong embrace. Nick felt shaky again, as if Greg was the only thing holding him up. He tried to speak but all that came out was a hiccupped sob.

"I'm sorry," Greg whispered, one hand coming around to cup the back of his neck and keep Nick's forehead against his own.

He was sorry? Dumbfounded, Nick could only try to control his breathing.

"What are you doing home so early?" Greg asked.

"I wanted to go looking for you!' Nick pulled back and stared at him. "Grissom gave me leave-"

"We both have leave?" Greg grinned slightly. "Cool."

Nick pushed past him to half-collapse on the couch. "Greg, stop pretending nothing happened! Where have you been?"

Greg closed their door, but stayed where he was. He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over and around his chest, as if hugging himself. "To tell you the truth, I just drove and drove. When it looked like I would run out of gas, I would just get some more. I stopped a couple of times to get food and use the restroom, but really, I just drove."

"Why didn't you come home? Or at least call?" Nick asked, pained.

Greg stared at his feet. "To tell you, the truth I didn't want to."

"Didn't want to?" Nick echoed stupidly.

"You hit the wall, Nicky."

Nick jumped to his feet, but didn't approach him. He was suddenly frightened that his movement would seem like an attack. He would never hurt Greg, not lay a finger on him, but he was lucid enough to know that his recent actions painted him in such a bad light that it was no wonder Greg was wary of him. Not to mention what had been done to Greg by other people. .

"Greg..." he breathed.

"I don't think you'll ever hurt me," Greg said softly. "But you're hurting yourself. You could have damaged your hand. You're on the edge, Nick, and you can't drag us over it."

"I won't." Nick approached him slowly, his hands down by his sides. Greg met him halfway, which he was glad of, and they embraced tightly again. "I'm sorry, Greg. It's just that I hate seeing this happen to you, and I get so fucking mad..."

"I know, and if this was happening to you, I would feel the same. But we have got to just keep going on as us, no matter what happens. Because..." he broke off, and broke away.

"What?" Nick reached out, and pulled him back.

"Because I'm scared of what will happen to us if we go on like this." This acknowledgement of Greg's was almost too much for him.

Nick licked his lips nervously, and tried to keep the panic out of his voice. "You're... not thinking of leaving me, are you?"

Greg immediately shook his head, not wanting to plant an irrational fear in his mind which could speed a break-up through the expectation of one. "No, no, Nick. I just don't want us to get to that point where either one of us would consider it."

Nick took Greg's jaw gently in his hand so he could look him directly in the eye. "My biggest fear is losing you, Greg. It almost happened a couple of weeks ago. I am not going to let that happen through me being an idiot, I can guarantee you that."

Greg smiled at him, and drew him in for a kiss. "Good," he breathed. "It's my biggest fear as well. But you probably knew that."

"Promise me you won't run again. You have no idea how much I worried about you."

"I can imagine."

His grip on Nick tightened. "There's something else I need to tell you."

Nick groaned involuntarily.

Greg pressed on, regardless. "When I first drove off, I'm pretty sure Aaron James was following me." He could feel Nick turn to stone against him, and he shuffled them over to the couch. They sat together, hands entwined. "I managed to lose him in the traffic after about twenty minutes. I don't know, maybe I was just imagining it."

"Why didn't you come home as soon as you thought it was him?" Nick asked, steel returning to his tone.

"I was mad at you, then I got mad at him. And I thought I was going to handle it on my own."

"The thing is, Greg, you're not on your own."

"I know that."

"Oh yeah? I don't think you do." Nick made as if to rise up, but Greg tightened his grip on his hands and kept him down by sheer force of will.

"I do," Greg said, accentuating each word.

"Is that the only reason you came back? Because you were scared?"

"No. I came back because I needed you." Greg sounded cool and collected, and to Nick just a little dispassionate.

"Just needed me?" Nick muttered.

"No, because I love you as well." What he had read as lacking passion had now disappeared. "I love you, and I need you, okay?"

"That's the way it should be." Nick sagged against the back of the couch, finally feeling that they were making headway.

"But, Nick, I have to be able to rely upon you. And you... you've been losing yourself a little bit lately."

"I know, and I promise I'll work upon that."

"And I have to be selfish, I need you whole. At this point in time, I need you reliable. To know that you're not going to go crazy, punching left, right and centre. Because that's only gonna cause more shit for the both of us."

Nick leaned in to him. "I'm sorry I wasn't there the way you needed me to be. But I'm going to be Mr Reliable from now on."

Greg snuggled into him, shutting his eyes and trying to rid himself of the hollow and numb feeling that had accompanied him during his aimless driving expedition. "Thank you," he whispered. And as Nick pulled him down further, and his arms wrapped around him, Greg could almost start to believe that those feelings were lifting.

***