Title: Standard Lines
By: ImJustEmilia
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own anything CSI related. The song is Standard Lines by Dashboard Confessional and F.Y.I. I don't own that either.
Summary: Nick is leaving, and only Greg can stop him.

***

Which of the bold faced lies will we use?

I hope that you're happy

You really deserve it

This will be the best for us both in the end

He was amazed at how easily he could lie straight to Nick's face these days. It was nearly impossible before, not that he ever would lie to him. No, their relationship was too sacred and important for that. But now, Nick was packing up his things and Greg was sitting silently on the bed. It was all very cliché and movie-like to him, but he couldn't move to make it real. Couldn't tell Nick that he loved him and that they could make things work if only they tried. And that he was sorry for being the way he was and could he please forgive him? But no, Greg couldn't make his lips form the words that Nick so desperately needed to hear, so instead he studied the bedspread and tried to ignore the sickness in the pit of his stomach.

"We'll always be friends, G."

He bit back the snort that threatened to escape. Yeah, we'll be friends. Maybe when we're both seeing new people we can have a double date. That should be fun. Great, now even the voice in his head was sarcastic. He and Nick would never be friends after this, it would be too awkward. Though it would be kinda fun to go up to Nick's date and say "I fucked your boyfriend." That probably wouldn't go over to well with the Texan though.

But your taste still lingers on my lips

Like I just placed them upon yours

And I starve for you

But this new diet's liquid

And dulling to the senses

And it's crude

But it will do

He'd put on an excellent facade at work, and no one would ever figure it out. Because, lets face it, for CSI's the team wasn't all that observant. Didn't even know that Greg and Nick had been together for over a year, and living together for half that time. You'd think the change of address form would have tipped them off, but they continued to live in their blissful little fantasy world where Nick and Greg were nothing more than good friends.

Fuck being "good friends." Not after everything they'd ever been through. Not after Greg had felt the other man writhing under him in bed, and begging to be fucked into the mattress. Not after he was pinned against the cool metal of a locker and sucked off while they were on the clock and anyone could catch them. They could never be friends again. They could be ex-lovers, or ex-boyfriends, but never ever friends.

Which of these standard lines will we use?

I've been meaning to call you

I've just been so busy

We'll catch up soon

Let's make it a point to

Being friends implied that they would still do things together like watch the game, or engage each other in small talk. And if there was one thing in life that Greg hated with a fierce undying passion, it was small talk. Small talk was something you used on someone you didn't particularly like, but wanted to be polite to. He'd be damned before being reduced to someone Nick small talked.

Nick loved him, he'd heard the words come out of his mouth barely two months after they started seeing each other. Greg hadn't responded, and Nick said it was okay and that he understood. Apparently that understanding had worn out, because Nick was leaving, and Greg was still silent. He felt a warm tear slide down his cheek and watched it fall to the back of his hand. He didn't brush it away, or try to hide the fact that he was crying.

"Jesus Greg." Nick fell to his knees in front of the younger man and used his thumbs to gently wipe away the tears. Nick slid his trembling hands into Greg's wild hair and pulled his face to his. Greg kissed him deeply tasting his tears and the flavor that was uniquely Nick. He squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to prolong the moment, but all to soon Nick was pulling away and brushing a thumb over swollen lips. He stood up wearily and picked up the last bag of his clothes he stopped at the door and turned to meet Greg's eyes. "I love you." He walked out then and Greg looked down at the floor, waiting until he heard the opening and closing of the front door before saying,

"I love you too."

But your taste still lingers on my lips

Like I just placed them upon yours

And I starve for you

But this new diet's liquid

And dulling to the senses

And it's crude

But it will do.

***

Morning calls for pain relief,

A line above the step beneath

The worst that you could do.

And the best that you could hope for,

Is hardly the best.

Greg kind of liked mornings in the hospital. As soon as the gray light of dawn began to shine in the sky, he could quit feigning sleep, and request more pain medication. It wasn't that he couldn't sleep, it was that he wouldn't sleep. He knew the moment he closed his eyes he'd be back there. Back in his lab, hearing the explosion, and feeling the heat on his shoulder. Seeing Sara lying just a few feet from him surrounded by glass, and then blacking out.

He'd come back around as the paramedics loaded him onto the stretcher and took him through the debris-laden hallway. He remembered watching Grissom's mouth move, but not hearing the words he said. It was then he became aware of the silence around him. He should have heard sirens and voices, but there was nothing. The explosion had knocked his hearing out for nearly two days, and it was the most terrifying experience of his life. The team had visited on the first day, when the doctor had insisted on changing his bandages. He wasn't sure if he screamed in pain, but he was sure of one thing. Nick had held his hand through the entire ordeal. It wasn't much, but Greg would take what he could get.

Tepid waters chase the pill

With turpentine and chamomile

And don't get cheap on the wine

You need to be up all of the time.

"Greg?" He turned his head towards the sound of Catherine's voice. "Hey cutie," she greeted him warmly with a smile. "Warrick and Gil are here, can we come in?"

"Sure," he said straightening up in the hospital bed.

"Hey man, how's it goin?" Warrick asked stepping into the room. Grissom followed behind him.

"I'm alive," he joked lamely. "Any new conquests I need to know about?"

"Naw man. You need to get well soon though, cuz damn." Warrick gestured to Greg's rundown appearance. "Probably the first time I've ever seen you without hair gel."

"Ha ha. How's my replacement?"

"Your stand in Greg," Grissom corrected him. "We could never replace you."

Greg suddenly felt like the Grinch. Not the evil Grinch, the nice one at the end of the movie whose heart goes up two sizes. "Thanks."

"So everything's going good?" Catherine asked smoothing wrinkles out of the blanket covering Greg.

"Yep, I should be able to go home in a couple days, and back to the lab soon."

"Just don't push it Greg," Grissom warned. "The lab will still be there whenever you decide you're ready to come back. Are you sleeping well? You have dark circles around your eyes."

Greg raised a hand to his face self-consciously. Busted Greggo. "I sleep as well as anyone can in a hospital." Nice dodge.

Shield your eyes,

Conceal your lies.

"Well," Catherine said, "We're gonna get going, and let you get your beauty sleep." She kissed his cheek and couldn't resist tucking him in. "Sorry, it's a mom thing." Greg watched them go, and felt that old familiar loneliness seep in. It had been exactly forty-two days since Greg had driven Nick away, and Greg finally realized the magnitude of his mistake. He loved Nick. So much it scared him, but now he would never know. A sharp knock on the door brought him out of his wallowing. "It's open."

The door slowly swung open, and Nick shyly stepped in. "Hey Greg."

He sat up a little straighter, "Hi."

Nick hesitantly shut the door behind him, and approached Greg's bed. He sat on the stool next to him. "So, everything okay?"

"Coffee's worse here than at the lab, but other than that everything's going just peachy." He couldn't keep the edge of bitterness out of his voice, and wondered if Nick noticed. He did.

"You don't have to do that," Nick told him quietly.

Greg's mouth suddenly went dry. "What?" he croaked.

"Pretend to be okay. I know you better than that Greg, and I know that right now you're trying to stay strong for everyone else, because you're afraid they might fall apart. But when's your turn Greg? When do you get to be human?"

"I don't," he told his ex-lover quietly. "Because I don't know how to deal with this. I'm alive, but part of me still thinks I should be lying dead on Doc Robbin's table with a 'Y' incision on my chest."

Nick reached out and carefully took Greg's hand, avoiding the I.V. stuck in the back of it. "I'll help you. I'll help you be okay again. Help you realize that you're alive and safe, and that I'll never let anything happen to you. Let me help you."

With those last words, Greg broke down in tears for the first time since the explosion, and became human again.

Don't blink. Everyone's watching.

They'll think that you're up to something.

They need for you to be everything

That they cannot be themselves.

***

We are the only ones who feel it.
Tonight we drink, tonight we dance with all the last ones who can hear it.
We're calling in whispers, we're tired of waiting.
We'll take what we want and leave, leave what we know behind.

They'd sat at the bar with Catherine and Warrick for what seemed like hours, engaging in the kind of playful banter no one would guess at unless they knew the truth. Soft, lingering touches and slow, warm smiles and Greg's eyes bulging out of his head every time Nick licked his lips. Every nerve in his body was frazzled and just begging to be touched and these light arm rubs were only making it worse.

He couldn't believe they'd made it here, sitting side by side, drinking and laughing and enjoying each other. They knew that tonight was the night, they were through with the waiting game.

And tonight we are the only ones who feel it,
So let it last all night, so let it last all night.
Let the fire surround us, let it all cave in, let it all burn wild.

Greg wasn't sure how they'd gotten from the club to his apartment, all he knew was that he was really enjoying the feeling of Nick's stubble on his neck. His hands were clutching at Nick's shirt as the man went to town. He remembered every time they'd ever been together in vivid detail.

He also remembered what it was like to be blown through a glass wall and spend a week in the hospital. What it felt like as the scars grew and stretched and how panicked he'd been the first couple of weeks when he'd wake up in a strange bed with smoke still in his nostrils and fire at his back. He remembered the feel of Nick's hands on the rippled skin of his shoulder, massaging the scar tissue and pressing feather light kisses to the imperfect area. And the way he'd held the younger man as he fought and sobbed his way through the nightmares.

After everything Greg had put him through, Nick was the one who'd taken care of him, made him feel human again.

"G?" Nick asked pulling away to look at his counterpart. "What's wrong?"

It was only then that Greg felt the wetness on his face, followed by Nick's hands wiping it away.

"I-" Greg started shakily.

"It's okay," the older man told him, "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Greg cleared his throat and looked into the other man's eyes. "I love you."

Nick answered by pushing the man into the bedroom.

Naked and tangled and twisted in love,
And tonight we are the only ones who feel it.
Heaven is here,
And tonight we are the only ones who feel it.

***