Title: Of Faith
By: staticdisturbed
Rating: PG
Warnings: Talk of/ Belief in God, if that's something you don't want to read. Also I wrote this about half an hour ago and am quite tired and too impatient to wait until tomorow to reread it with fresh eyes. I didn't really know what to do with the end.
Spoilers: Fannysmackin' and Post Mortem I guess.
Summary: Post Fannysmackin' & Post Mortem, Greg can't sleep and writes a letter to someone.

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He woke up alone. The sheets were cool on Greg's side of the bed and the blankets were kicked messily to the floor. A light was on somewhere in the living room, a stray beam slipped beneath their bedroom door. Nick reached blindly for his glasses off the nightstand and stood, searching for his missing lover.
"Greg?" the younger man was slumped over the desk, wrapped up in the fleece Dallas Cowboys blanket that was draped over the back of the couch. Nick approached and for a moment was glad just to see Greg resting until the light from the desk lamp hit the sleeping man's face at the right angle and illuminated the dry tear tracks on his cheeks. His eyes fell on Greg's hands, on the folded up piece of loose-leaf he was clutching with tense knuckles. He was able to maneuver it out without waking the younger man and a small voice hissed that it wasn't any of his business to read whatever was on the paper but he unfolded it anyway. The first line pulled a lump into his throat and he knew then that this was private, that he had no right to read it, but his eyes started moving and it was too late to stop.

Dear God,

I know this isn't really the conventional way of doing this, but I've never been very conventional. I'll admit that it's been a long time since I've prayed, and back then I was really only kneeling by my bedside for Papa's sake. I hope you won't hold that against me. Nick says you don't hold grudges or give the silent treatment or anything like that, so I guess you won't. I've seen Nick pray before, but that doesn't feel quite right for me. So um here it goes.

I can't sleep, not without my new meds anyway. All I can think about is him, about his family, about how it could have gone differently. I feel like a monster. I guess I know, logically, that I did what I had to do. That I saved my life and Stanley's life but that really doesn't make it any better. Maybe it should, but I still feel like a killer. I didn't want to hurt him; you've got to know that. I wanted to be a CSI to help people, to make the world a little better for everybody else. I never wanted this. Please God, let the nightmares go away, I'm sick of all these pills.

I want to pray for the James family too. If I had been the one to die in that alley, we both know my mom would have lost it. She told me once when I was little that I was the only reason she didn't just slit her wrists in the bathtub. Back then I didn't realize that she was walking the line between sanity and insanity. But I hope that Mrs. James can get some closure, I hope that she can move on with her life, even if that means hating me. And Demitrius's brother too. He's been following me. I've seen him at work a few times now, and in the grocery store once. I don't know what he's going to try. Maybe he wants to kill me. I wish I could tell him what it feels like, how it feels to take another life even if you think it's justified.

I need you to watch out for Nick too. I'm sure you already do, because he's Nick and from what I gather, even though he keeps it sort of private, you two have got a pretty decent relationship. After last year he was kind of messed up and I did my best to help him, but in the end I think it was you who really saved him. Even after everything that's happened to him he still believes in you, still believes that you're watching out for him, so I guess that's why I'm even doing this. Anyway, things are hard for me to talk about right now. I want to tell him all of this stuff, but it's tough. I guess I feel like he's too good for me you know? He's such a good person that sometimes I just get a headrush knowing how much he cares about the world, and here I am with blood on my hands. Please don't let him loose faith in me, or think that I don't want to tell him because I do. I love him so much; I can't bear to loose him. And I don't believe any of that stuff about you hating people like Nick and me; I can't believe anyone would ever hate Nick.

Please God; just help me get through all of this. I just want things to go back to how they were, I just want to feel ok inside again. Thank you.


The letter was signed with a shaky ‘Gregory Sanders'. Nick didn't realize he was crying until he watched the ink run wet as a tear hit it. He dropped to his knees and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his boyfriend's head before scooping him up into his arms and standing. Greg instinctively snuggled into the touch and his hand grasped at the cotton stretched over Nick's heart and staid there.

And when they reached the bedroom Nick sat cross-legged on the mattress and watched Greg rest peacefully without the help of medication for the first time in weeks.

***