Title: Laying in the Bed I Made...
Author: Shacky20
Disclaimer: Still not mine, or they would be making out across Lab Table
Warning: Angst, Angst, and a little more angst. Slash, non-graphic Nick/Greg
Summary: One must lay in the bed one has made, a look inside Greg’s mind.
Rating: R

‘Dear Journal,

No that sounds stupid and clinical.

How about Dear whoever gives a shit,

No, that sounds 'angry and unattached'

Dear Diary,

God no, that sounds way to girly, and am may be lots of things, but girly no. Oh I got it,

Dear Fucking Journal,

There, now that's more me, that's Greg Sanders. Or what used to be Greg Sanders. I don't know who that is anymore. Three, two, hell last year that would have been an easy question to answer. I was the Crazy Lab Tech, no I was more than that, I was the Lead DNA Analyst of the second best DNA Lab in the country at the age of 28. Hell, they always said I was an over achiever. I was damn good at it too, people at other Labs knew who I was at conferences. But I changed that. Now I am a rookie CSI 1, nothing but a peon to the upper echelon again, and the team.

Now I don't know who I am, I've seen the change, felt it down to my soul. This past year has been hell, but I can't say that. I wanted this right? But in training classes they never told us about children in dumpsters, and kids in basements treated like dogs. Or seeing burn victims, still alive, wrapped like a mummy, knowing how painful is it, and wishing for death. No, that isn't in the text books. That's what they call "in the field training". You know why, cause if they showed you that there wouldn't be CSI's, cause it takes your soul if it lets you, and it took mine.

Depression they call it, I don't buy it. I call it death. Hell, even Hodges called me on it, on that horrible night. As a DNA tech maybe I could have accomplished something, done something more. But all I did was find a fucking dog. And when we did, when we found Nick, it wasn't me he reached for, it wasn't my name he called. Not that I blame him. Hell, after being trapped in a box for 24 hours I probably would have held Ecklie's hand to feel human flesh again. Depression, what a fucking joke, a 'chemical imbalance in the brain', yeah. Pills, pills, and more pills. They don't fix it, they don't make you happy, they make you numb, nothing.

Even Nick can see the change. I used to be fun care free fun Greggo, I know it. Hell I was the life of the party, fuck I started the parties. Nick and I would go out dancing or drinking on nights off, of play video games and drink beer all night. Go out to breakfast with the gang, back was I was the Crazy Lab Rat, CSI Level 1 Sanders doesn't do that. He researchs, takes his cases seriously, tries to impress, to show it wasn't a mistake. I didn't make a mistake moving to the field. To prove to everyone that it wasn't a mistake, maybe to me I didn't make a mistake. There I was someone, here I'm alone in myself.

I used to be comforted by Nick's presence after the bad ones, then that even changed. I used to come home with him still waiting up for me, and let him hold me, make my coffee, grab me some breakfast, talk it out. Let it go, hold me, sometimes tears, sometimes laughter, then that changed as well. Nick would still be up waiting for me, but I stopped caring, I just wanted a shower and bed. I didn't want to talk, I wanted to forget. Coffee didn't bring me the joy it used to, food became an annoyance instead of nourishment.

After a month a that, Nick wasn't waiting up for me anymore. He knew that I didn't want to talk, knew I wanted to forget. So I shut myself off, hop in the shower, and wash the memories away, and the feelings, all of them, made them stop. I just wanted to feel nothing. Lab Rat Greg didn't have to see blood on babies, dirt on children, burns covering pregnant woman, and sit back and feel helpless while they're boyfriend was buried alive.

That's what drove me over the edge they say. I don't remember what it was. But I was put on mandatory leave, for 'personal reasons' cause saying 'CSI Level 1 Sanders is suffering from clinical depression from transitioning to the field, and the effects surrounding the kidnapping of Nick Stokes' sounds better for the old personnel file. It's not like it matters anymore.

I've already have it planned out . I wonder who will miss me. I know who would miss Lat Rat Greg, Jaqui, Archie, Hodges, Sara would probably miss my flirting, Catherine would miss being able to mother me, Warrick would miss my work ability, although he'd never say it, Gris would miss being about to teach me, cause secretly I knew he liked teaching me, cause I learned. I knew him better than most, understood. I learned more from him, and he liked my eagerness and my intelligence. CSI Sanders doesn't even have that. Lat Rat Greg had confidence, and fun, and knew what he was doing. His Lab was his domain and he was it's Master, and everyone knew it. CSI Sanders it scared to enter a scene without messing something up. But now I don't have that problems, these beautiful little pills stopped that. Now I don't feel anything, but numb, and numb is nice I've decided.

I wonder if Nick will eve miss me, or feel relieved that his burden is gone. He doesn't heart to break up with me now, not when I'm like this. I know he would miss Lab Rat Greg, that's who he fell in love with, whether he wanted to or not. He tried so long to fight it, but it was like a force pulling us together. And Greg and Nick had fun, and laughed, and played, and went out, and had amazing sex. We could fuck with the best of them, or make love to each other until we both cried. You can't do that when you're numb. Now we sleep on opposite sides of the bed. Would Nick miss CSI Sanders, I wonder. But it doesn't matter now. He's afraid to touch me, and I don't feel it anyway. I understand that now, this depression as they call it. I always thought it was nothing, everyone gets down, hell, who hasn't had there rough patches. But they didn't say depression was numb, I would rather be depressed then numb, cause when you're numb, you don't care, you don't care to touch, you don't miss skin on hot skin, hot breaths of promises in your ear. You do not miss the sweat and skin slapping, and arms wrapping around your chest as he pounds into you from behind, planting kisses on your scarred body. Or those nights we didn't make it to the bed, we were lucky to get our clothes off and fucked like it was our first time all over again. Lat Rat Greg lived for those moments, CSI Sanders doesn't care cause he doesn't feel.

I already have it planned out, no one knows. Of course no one knows, Nick would drag me off somewhere to fix me. He was fixed, he was buried alive and came out unscathed, but I didn't, part of me is still there. Not everything can be fixed, and I can't, not now, too late. Too numb, don't want to be fixed. I can't go back. Like Papa Olaf said "One must lie in the bed one has made." I've made my bed. Now I have to lay in it.

I have my letter to Nick hidden, but I'll set it out for him. I know what I want to be buried in. My hair spiked as usual, or how it used to be. Lab Greg would have like that, with a wild and crazy t-shirt. And with my Ipod, and my headphones on. My ripped jeans and converses on, no suits, no straight hair, and definitely no ties. That's who'll they will miss, that's who they loved. Not CSI Sanders, I don't even know him, how can they miss him. I feel the weight of the bottle of pills in my pocket, I keep them with me. I know most guys blow their heads off, or slit their wrists, but I've seen too much blood and brain matter, I don't want any more. I don't want the team to process my bloodied body. I don't want them to remember me in a bloody heap. I also don't want them to do an autopsy on me. I've seen the meat of a body, I'm more than that. I left that in the note also. I told them what I took in the letter, so they want have to do that. Call me vain, I want to look good one more time, and I have enough scars, I don't want any more. I know pills considered the girly way out, but I know what I'm doing, I am a Chemist, that seems to be forgotten sometimes. I know how much tranquilizers to take, the right concoction with pain killers, alcohol, and a few special ones to make sure I don't vomit them back up. I keep them with me. I can feel the amber bottle in my pocket, it is my constant friend now, I feel that when I feel nothing else. There when I need it, when I decide I am tired of being numb. They will find the fun, crazy, Lab Tech they missed, they'll remember with a smile on their face. I just hope one day Nick will forgive me, but he'll be better off without this person. He deserves someone who he can touch again, laugh with, go out dancing again, make love to, fuck against the wall, and that person died a long time ago.

Shit, there's the key in the lock, he's home. But I still feel my friends in my pocket, waiting for me. They all told me to write my feelings down in a fucking journal. Well I hope they understand now, hope they are happy, hope they know Greg didn't die, CSI Sanders did. Maybe they will understand now. I was dead before they ever got to me, before they put me on leave, I died the day Nick lived, but I was too numb to know.’

 

Two Days Later… Things from Nick’s POV

Nick came home once again just as the sun was rising. Since Greg had been put on "leave" nightshift was short handed, and the team had basically been brought back together anyway. Both Grissom and Cath served as supervisors now, but it still didn't feel right, not without Greg there. But Greg hasn't been there in a long time.

He closed the door silently and locked it as he followed the constant sound of the television that was Greg's companion now. He found Greg wrapped in a blanket in front of the television as usual, and still wearing his headphones. Nick began to wonder if he ever took them off anymore.

He didn't want to disturb his sleeping lover, or used to be lover, he felt more like a roommate as of late. Sleep was something that did not come to Greg easily these days. Then Nick noticed the prescription bottle on the coffee table next to the coke can and knew it was another medication-induced sleep, but figured it was better than nothing. Nick knew he has an appointment this morning with his therapist, but didn't feel the need to disturb him yet. So he sat there and looked, stared, remembered, and grieved for his lost lover. He wondered what happened to the brilliant, confident, and outrageous, "I'm going to conquer to world" Greg he fell in love with. Now he was wrapped in a blanket, taken off of work due to something that had consumed him, and Nick couldn't begin to understand.

He looked at he dark lines around Greg's eyes, the sunken in cheeks. Greg had always been small in frame, but even Grissom had noticed the way his clothes hung on him now. No matter what Nick tried to do, he couldn't forcibly feed Greg, no matter how much he wanted to. He wanted to grab Greg by the arms, shake him and tell him to snap out of it, then he wanted to kiss him and ravish his body like he used to, like Greg used to love. No more. Greg didn't even like when Nick tried to touch him at night, so Greg had taken to sleeping on the couch. He pretended he couldn't sleep, but Nick knew, he just didn't want to be in the presence of another person.

The old CSI could see the change. Greg was so beyond ecstatic when Grissom finally let him into the field. Young, eager, full of confidence, willing to learn. Greg was the most brilliant DNA Tech the LVCL had even had, even at his young age. He had so much promise to be a CSI, a master's degree in Chemistry, a brilliant DNA technician, be had the whole package. Plus an intelligence no one could deny, even as much as Greg reminded them. But he slowly saw the downslide Greg was currently on, he remembers the beginning. With the child in the dumpster, then finding more children in the basement , being treated like animals. Nick tried to warn him there would be cases like that, but you cannot really prepare anyone for those kind of cases. And that's all they were cases. You must stay detached. Greg was not like that.

Back then he cared to his soul, and couldn't let go. Nick remembers so well laughing it up with Warrick in the break room, listening to Greg. But as soon as he got home, he looked at Greg, the unshed tears in his eyes. Nick just held on to Greg, guided him to the bed, and laid there with him. Let him cry it out. Nick understood the first child case was always the worse. Greg finally cried himself to sleep, clothes and everything. Nick gently took his shoes off, followed by his clothes. That night Greg woke up as if nothing has happened, and went right back at it. He still had to his proficiency to pass, he wasn't going to get silly emotions get in the way. That's when Nick noticed the changes start to take place.

So he moved on the to next case. And the next, with lightening speed, and little emotion, he could see the Greggo he knew slipping away, and he couldn't stop it. He will still talk to Nick every once in awhile, but the touching and emotion that make him Greg was slowing leaving him. No more hot fucking in the kitchen, or blow jobs in the shower, it was all business. 'Nick, I don't have time, I've gotta go in early.' Then always came the phone call, or a pass in the hallways, 'Gotta work a double, see ya sometime at home. I'll grab a bite to eat and don't wait up.' Nick knew what was happening. He'd seen it before to many a CSI, but he never imagined in would happen to his crazy, wild, fun loving, anything goes, G, and God how he missed him. He remembers the night it all changed for good. That damn burn case.

He wanted to deck the person, probably Grissom, who sent Greg to the hospital to get trace off the burn victim. No one realized she was still alive. The house was empty when I got home. Greg came in several hours later. It was the first morning I remember him not making his coffee, I knew something was wrong.

Greg stripped down and jumped in the shower without a word. I could tell the water was scalding hot by the steam rolling out from under the door. No sounds were heard, but Greg was red by the time he stepped out of the shower, making his scars stand out even more. He didn't say a work, didn't talk about how it felt to be back in a burn unit, knowing exactly what a victim was going through. The pain he must have felt, seeing the victim there, knowing it had once been him there. Yet, not a word, not a touch, not a tear he shed, he had shut himself off, and Greggo was gone after that.
Greg moved in his sleep, and murmured something about dirt, and ants, and please don't. Nick wanted to wake him, but let him to his restless sleep, at least it was sleep. He looked at the prescription bottles on the table next to Greg. Xanax, 1 mg up to three times a day or as needed, Lexapro, 20 mg twice a day, that wasn't including the pain mediation they had prescribed him for his constant headaches lately.

Whoever said things couldn't get any worse was a liar. That night some sick fuck decided to take his daughter's crimes out on him, was the night he felt their relationship start falling apart, and it killed him. He loved Greg with everything he had, but whatever was eating Greg's soul, took up residence that night and never left. He was cold, unfeeling towards Nick when he finally arrived home. Not that he didn't take care of Nick when he was home, he did a great job of changing his bandages, making sure he took his medication, cooking for him, as he could see Greg starting to become thinner and thinner.

After Nick went back to work, he could the the changes in Greg at work were much starker than they were at home. He knew is was bad when Sara pulled Nick aside and said she was worried about Greg, how he was working too much. How horrible he was starting to look. He became a robot. Grissom noticed to and sent him to mandatory counseling stating Nick's ordeal as the reasons. That's when the medications started. Greg withdrew more and more from everyone, including Nick. He didn't want human contact.

No more early morning breakfasts out laughing with the team. No more going out on they nights off. Greg would just sleep or watch TV instead of leaving the house. Then it happened. The outburst at work. It had started in Grissom's office. Grissom had called Greg in on a current case and his treatment of a witness. Greg had gone to far, everyone knew it, hell even Nick knew it, but Greg didn't. He was called into Grissom's office for reprimand, but what happened next surprised everyone. Greg started yelling back. Screaming back at his boss, drawing the attention of the entire Lab. All everyone knew was that it ended with Greg on mandatory 'personal leave' and the slamming of a door.

That was three weeks ago. Since then it's been a constant stream of sessions and medications and more doctors and therapists. It was killing Nick inside, he could feel Greg slipping away, but the harder he tried to hold on, the more Greg resisted. He had completely withdrawn in on himself.

Nick sat there again looking at his precious love, remembering. He remembered the guy who bragged about liquid latex and scuba diving. The brilliant mind that could play name that chemical compound against Grissom and win. The Tech who didn't know what the word self-conscious as he paraded up and down the halls of the Lab wearing a Show Girls Headdress. He remembered the man he flirted with although would never admit it to him. He loved watching Greg work, so focused, and so handsome. He remembers when Greg finally had the courage to ask him out because God knows Nick would never have. The way Greg gave his all to everything his work, his play, his life. The way he liked to be fucked from behind and could care less who heard him as he screamed Nick's name, or the way tears would fall as Nick would whisper 'I love you' as they laid in bed and caressed and kissed and made love all day. Or the Greg that would smear ice cream across Nick's jaw line just so he could lick it off.

Nick felt the warm drops of wetness hit his cheeks, and it wasn't until then that he realized we was even crying. He wanted to help Greg more than anything, but he didn't have a clue how, and the harder he tried, the more Greg pushed him away.

That thought was quickly pushed away as a sleepy eyed Greg awoke, and Nick quickly hid his tears and smiled his amazing smile as his boyfriend.
"Hey there sleeping beauty, I thought I was gonna have to kiss you to wake you up." He joked hoping to get a response. "How about I make us some coffee and a nice breakfast, does that sound good?"

"No thanks, I'm not hungry, and no time. I have yet another fucking doctor's appointment this morning." And with that he was gone, heading upstairs for the shower.

No 'Hey Nick, how was your night? No, thanks but I have someplace to be.' And Nick knew it was too much hoping for a kiss a touch, but he prayed, but no one was listening.

Nick went ahead and make some coffee and breakfast, hoping the familiar smells would entice Greg before leaving, but to no avail.

"I'm outta here, gotta go back to the head shrink." Greg remarked as he starting gathering up his stuff to leave.

"Are you sure you don't want a quick bite, your favorite, ham and cheese omelet. Plus your special blend of coffee." Nick tried to make it sound as appealing as possible.

"Look Nick, I said I wasn't hungry. I'll be back later, don't wait up, I have some errands to run afterward." And with that Greg was gone.
No 'See ya later Nick. No, 'I'll be home soon,' and definitely no goodbye kiss.
Nick took a few bites of his breakfast but quickly lost his appetite with thoughts of Greg running through his mind. He started going about his morning routine, which unfortunately with morning included laundry. He didn't understand why Greg couldn't do it since he was home all day, but he figured it best he not ask, and just do it himself. With coffee and in hand he went about his chores.

An hour later he was putting away all the clothes he had just pulled out of the dryer. He carefully hung up his shirts in the closet like always, then neatly folded Greg's t-shirts and put them in the closet. While in the bedroom he decided he might as well changed the sheets since he couldn't remember the last time he did, and that meant it was time to do it again. He stripped the bed and pulled out fresh sheets from the lines closet. He carefully made the bed, careful to tuck in the corners like he learned from an early age. That's when he felt the hard object stuffed in between the box spring and mattress.

"What the hell?" he muttered to himself as he started flipping through the hardback book, but it didn't have any writing on the cover or the back, or the inside for that matter.

He started flipping quickly through the pages getting ready to toss in onto the floor when he recognized the familiar scratches of Greg's handwriting. He started reading the first couple of lines to see what was so important Greg had to actually write down.

"Dear Journal,


No that sounds stupid and clinical.


How about Dear whoever gives a shit,


No, that sounds 'angry and unattached'


Dear Diary,


God no, that sounds way to girly, and am may be lots of things, but girly no. Oh I got it,


Dear Fucking Journal,


There, now that's more me, that's Greg Sanders. Or what used to be Greg Sanders. I don't know who that is anymore."

Nick felt guilty at first for reading Greg's most private thoughts, but as he kept up, his heart started racing and tears started pouring down his face as the words starting leaping off the page.

"Now I don't know who I am, I've seen the change, felt it down to my soul.


Depression they call it, I don't buy it. I call it death


I've already have it planned out . I wonder who will miss me. I know who would miss Lat Rat Greg.


I wonder if Nick will even miss me, or feel relieved that his burden is gone. He doesn't have the heart to break up with me now, not when I'm like this. I know he would miss Lab Rat Greg, that's who he fell in love with.


Too numb, don't want to be fixed. I can't go back. Like Papa Olaf said "One must lie in the bed one has made." I've made my bed. Now I have to lay in it.


I have my letter to Nick hidden, but I'll set it out for him. I know what I want to be buried in.


That's who'll they will miss, that's who they loved. Not CSI Sanders, I don't even know him, how can they miss him.


I feel the weight of the bottle of pills in my pocket, I keep them with me.


I also don't want them to do an autopsy on me. I've seen the meat of a body, I'm more than that. I left that in the note also,


I just hope one day Nick will forgive me, but he'll be better off without this person. He deserves someone who he can touch again, laugh with, go out dancing again, make love to, fuck against the wall, and that person died a long time ago.


I died the day Nick lived, but I was too numb to know."

Nick couldn't comprehend what he was reading, he was beyond words, My God, he was reading a suicide letter, from Greg. Nick tried to talk, but found no voice. No, this wasn't happening, Greg wouldn't do this, wouldn't leave him, wouldn't give up.

Nick fell to his knees and let his body go, racking with sobs of pain, screams he didn't know he was holding in. Not for him, but his love, he wanted to die, and Nick didn't know how to save him. And Greg didn't want to be saved.

Nick had been sitting there in there darkened living room, patiently waiting for Greg to come home. If he came home. For all Nick knew, Greg could have plowed himself into a tree, drove straight to the ocean, or done as he had planned and went somewhere and took the pills he had with him. When, if, Greg came home, Nick didn’t know whether to kiss him senseless for seeing him again, and knocking some sense into him until he saw what he was doing to himself. It had been three hours and fifteen minutes since he had found the journal, and two hours and thirty-five minutes since he had been sitting there in the dark, staring at the door, waiting to here the key in the lock. Praying Greg would come home this time.

It had taken him forty minutes to pull himself together after finding the journal. Forty minutes of screaming, crying, and praying, praying for one more chance to see Greg’s beautiful face, to tell him he loved him. To tell him he would do whatever Greg needed. But now, two hours and thirty-five minutes have passed since he got off the floor, and the lines of the journal were still playing in his head. Greg wanted to die, he wanted to leave him, didn’t think he could be saved. Didn’t want Nick’s help. Thought of himself as a burden, when that was the furthest thing from the truth. Nick loved Greg more than life, Nick would have blown his head off long before they found him if it wasn’t for Greg, and Greg just wanted to leave him. So for two hours and thirty-five minutes Nick sat there thinking, remembering, trying to reign in his anger, at himself, at life, and at Greg. But the longer Greg was gone, the more worried and more angry he became.

After calling Greg’s cell phone for at least the tenth time, he dialed a different number. It was about 12:30 in the afternoon now, but he knew what he had to do. He picked up the phone and dialed a different number.

“..ello” answered the sleepy voice on the other end.

“Hey, it’s me. Something has come up and I won’t be there tonight, possibly tomorrow night also.” Nick’s stern voice let the person on the other end something was seriously wrong. The voice became instantly aware.

“What’s wrong Nick, are you OK, did something happen?” Catherine answered back, concern dripped from her voice.

“I’m fine, let’s just say it’s personal and I won’t be there. I can’t call Gris, Cath. I’m hoping you’ll take this at face value, I cannot be there.” Nick make it clear there was no other option.

“Nick, we really need you tonight, this case is blowing open and the Sheriff is all over both Gris and me over this.”

“Fine, fire me.” Nick stated clearly, no hesitation in his voice make Catherine more nervous than anything.

“Nicky, what’s wrong, it is Greg, you’re scaring me.” Catherine was no concerned, and she could care less about the Sheriff as well at the moment.

“Cath, I can’t answer that. You are Greg’s supervisor now, and I don’t want this to be a Lab or personnel issue that could harm his career even more.” Nick stated calmly. He couldn’t tell Greg’s boss just how far in the deep dark hole Greg had gotten himself into, it could put a permanent mark on his career, it he ever had one again.

“Nicky fuck the Lab. Fine, off the record, as Greg’s and your friend, you’re scaring me, what’s wrong Nick.” She wasn’t going to let this go without an answer, she knew something was horribly wrong if Nick was willing to lose his job over this.

Nick let out a sigh, of anguish, frustration, as tears fell down his face again. “God Cath, it’s worse than I thought, than any of us thought. I found something, and I’m not leaving Greg alone.”

“What did you find.” She asked forcibly.

“Cath, please, just take what I’ve told you and trust me. If you can’t give me the time off, fine, then fire me. I have to be here for Greg. I couldn’t call Griss, he wouldn’t understand and I will not jeopardize Greg’s chances of coming back to work.”

“Of course Nicky, you do what you have to. I’ll deal with Grissom, don’t worry about it, you take care of Greg, and if you need anything…”

“Yeah, I know Catherine, thank you, but I have to be here. Thank you. I’ll call you sometime. I have to fix this or nothing else will matter.” And he didn’t wait for an answer, he flipped his phone shut, worry still pumping through his veins. He had now been sitting here for two hours and forty-five minutes, in the dark, waiting, praying to hear the key.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Twenty minutes later, he had heard the sound he was waiting for. Greg had been gone for four hours and twenty-five minutes. Nick knew he wasn’t at the doctor’s that long, and he willed himself to stay calm and not confront Greg as soon as the door came open. All he wanted to do was throw his arms around Greg and kiss him senseless, or lock him in the bedroom and force him to listen to reason, but he wasn’t sure he was capable of reason right now, he was too scared. He just wanted to protect Greg, but he couldn’t do it alone.

“Hey G” Nick said quietly, as Greg slipped the door shut behind him.

“Fuck Nick, you scared the shit out of me. What the hell are you still doing up, and sitting here in the dark?” Greg asked as he wandered into their house, still holding onto his backpack. Nick wondered if that’s where he kept them…….. his friends.

“Oh you know. Just had to clean, dishes, do some laundry. Just the basics, hanging clothes in the closest, changed he sheets on the bed. Just sitting here thinking.” And with that he looked up at Greg to see if he would have to explain anymore. Greg just stood there not quite getting it yet. Nick just looked at him, waiting for the impending explosion.

“Oh, all right then. I’m going up to bed then.” Greg said as he tried to escape before he had to answer any questions………. but it wasn’t that easy.

“Wait Greg, where you been? You left four and half hours ago, I’ve called several time. I was worried about you.” Nick asked, still keeping his voice under control. He wasn’t mad, but he wasn’t going to let this go ignored either.

“What, are you my mother now?” Greg shot back, but Nick wasn’t surprised by the hostility in Greg’s voice, he was used to it. “I said I had shit to do, I’m home now, so I’m going to bed.” And once again Greg tried to escape.

“It’s amazing what you can find when you clean Greggo. I mean, that lost white sock you’re always looking for, that t-shirt I thought I lost, and some interesting reading.” Nick held up the book he had been turning in his hands for the past three hours and five minutes now. He knew the feel of every inch of it now. The leather was warm under his touch now after holding onto it for so long.

Greg’s head snapped back around at the words, and when he saw what Nick was holding, he visibly paled. Then the anger Nick was expecting started to appear.

“What the fuck are you doing Nicky, spying on me now? Where the hell did you get that, that’s mine, give it back to me now!” Greg demanded in no uncertain terms.

“No, you have two choices Greg,” Nick said flatly, devoid of emotion, because right now the only emotions he felt were anger and fear, and neither would get him anywhere right now. He knew he had to keep his cool, cause Greg would not. “You can either come in here and sit down and talk to me, or we can take this little book down to your therapist and talk there, because I would bet damn sure she doesn’t know about this.

“It‘s none of your fucking business, you had no fucking right to read that! It’s mine, my therapy. Give it back to me NOW!” Greg was screaming at Nick, which he had expected, but there was no way he was going to do that. He was not going to lose Greg.

“You know what Greg,” Nick stood up now and stalked over to where Greg was standing, he could feel his grip on his control slipping. “It is my fucking business. You live here, with me! I love you damnit, and I am NOT about to sit by and let you fucking kill yourself and do nothing. What the hell are you thinking, how could you? I thought we had a life here, and you are willing to throw it all away, for what, cause it’s easier?” Nick could hear his voice rise, knew he was stalking towards Greg as he spoke. But his anger was slowly taking over as Greg’s lack of thought in what was actually written on the pages of the book …. As they became more and more obvious.

“Well Nick, it isn’t your concern OK? It’s my life, my fucking problem, now give me it back and get the fuck out of my way.” Greg yelled back, and by that point Nick had had enough, and thought Greg needed a little reality check.

“Don’t be so damn selfish Greg, it is my concern, it case you haven’t noticed, I love you damnit. I haven’t just been playing house the past two years. I wasn’t just screwing around here, I thought we had a life. As you sit back and let it slip away, and I’m supposed to sit back and watch you destroy yourself, destroy everything you worked for. You know, if I just wanted a good fuck, I could have gone down the local club, but I thought we were building a life here. And now I read” as he shoved the book in Greg’s face, “that you could care less, that you are just willing to give it all up cause it got hard. I laid in a fucking box for hours Greg, HOURS, but I wasn’t gonna quit, cause I thought I mattered to you.!” His voice was way past the calm he was trying to maintain.

“Yeah, it meant so fucking much that when we found you , you had your fucking gun under your chin. Yeah, I could tell exactly how much I meant to you as you grabbed for Grissom. I meant so much to you, you didn’t even want me in the fucking ambulance. I meant so fucking much to you, you pretended to be asleep when I came home so you wouldn’t have to listen to the rookie whine about the death and inhumanity he saw every night, because you didn’t get it, you saw it too. Perfect Nick didn’t want to hear about it, how weak I really was. You’re right Nick, you’re the strong one. I’m weak and if you’ll admit it, you’ll be happy when I’m gone.” With that Greg tried to flee to the safety of his bedroom, but Nick grabbed his arm tightly and swiveled him back around to look in his face. And he couldn’t help but notice the stunned look in Greg’s eyes, but it was an emotion.

“Don’t you dare tell me what I want, or how I feel. I am still here Greg! I’m not the one carrying a bottle of pills on me planning on killing myself , leaving you, and everyone else. Where are they Greg? Give me the fucking pills.” Nick’s eyes glazed over with anger, at Greg’s bitter words.

“Get your fucking hands off of me Nick.” And Greg pushed back against Nick’s chest with a force that even caught Nick off guard, and he fell back a step and lost his grip on Greg.

Greg was hallway down the hall before Nick caught him again and dragged him into the bedroom and locked the door behind him.

“You will give me the God Damned Pills or I will take them myself. You are not leaving this room until I get them.” Fury flashed in Nick’s eyes at Greg. How could he? How could he care so little about their lives, about the past two years.

“What are you doing, admit it, you don’t want me here either, let me get my stuff and go, I’ll be out of your hair, and you can get back to your fucking perfect life without your mentally fucked up boyfriend.”

“I said, give me the pills Greg, or God help me I’ll take them myself.” Nick’s wrath apparent in his eyes.

“Fuck you Nick.” And Greg tried to storm past Nick, but Nick would have none of it.

“Fine, we’ll do it your way.” Nick grabbed Greg by the arm, and literally drug him to the bathroom.

“Where are they Greg, huh, in here?” Nick started angrily going through the medicine cabinet, finding nothing but aspirin and band aids, and the usual anti-depressants. Tears started streaming down his face as he shoved bottles aside, threw things onto the floor.

“Nick, don’t do this. It‘s my life. Greg begged………. actually begged.

“Where are they Greg?” Nick asked through gritted teeth, and then he realized he had gone about this all wrong, He remembered Greg’s words. His friends, he could feel the weight of them on him at all times, his escape.

He grabbed Greg and threw him against the sink and started feeling Greg up and down. It wasn’t hard, he used to be a cop, he knew how to find things.

“Get your God Damned hands off me Nick.” Greg tried to fight back, but he was never any match against Nick’s physical strength. He still fought back with all his might, he squirmed, kicked, swung his arms, until Nick pinned them behind his back like some fucking criminal.

Nick finally felt the small round bottle tucked into the side of Greg’s jeans. He knew what it was before he even took it out.

“Fucking let me go. damnit Nick, how dare you. It’s my fucking life, none of your damned business.

Nick wasn’t even listening as he pulled the amber bottle out and let go of Greg. He saw them now, it was true. God, Greg didn’t want to live. He had the evidence in his hand. Just as Greg said, he knew just the right combination. Nick fought back the bile that was rising in his throat at feeling the weight of the pills in his own hand now. He forcefully let go of Greg and spun him so they were face to face.

“So, this is what is so damn important. How could you Greg, how COULD YOU? I fucking fought like hell to stay with you and you just want to give up.” Nick half screamed, half cried, no longer even trying to hide the hurt in his voice, the tears in his eyes.

“You didn’t fight to stay with me, you fought to stay with your precious Lab Rat. The guy you loved, the guy you moved in with, the guy you used to fuck up against that shower, you don’t know me. Hell I don’t know me, so how can you stand there and say you love me.” Greg said, the fight leaving him. His words becoming weaker as he spoke, as his own tears started to fall.

“You’re wrong, I did fight to stay with you, cause I love you damnit Greg, don’t you fucking get that! I love you, Greg Sanders, Lab Rat, CSI , the guy who fought like hell to make his dreams come true and now you’re gonna throw it all away, I am NOT gonna stand by and watch you fucking kill yourself. I’ve been sitting there watching you do this for too long now, no more.” And with that, Nick opened the bottled, and dumped the contents into the toilet.

“NO, Damnit Nick. It’s not your fucking place to decide….. it’s my life. How dare you!” And more tears fell as he heard a flush. Not like it mattered, he always knew where to get more.

“That’s where you are wrong Greg, don’t you get it.” Nick had calmed, the fight leaving him as well. “It is my life, you are my life. You have been my life since the day I realized I loved you. No matter how hard it got, or how you tried to pull away, I’m still here, and I love you no matter what.”

“How can you, look at me. I’m a fucking failure. I can’t even work now. I failed the people I tried to help, I failed you, I couldn’t even fucking find you. I failed everything Nick, everything. I don’t even know how to try again. Don’t you get that. I don’t know how to feel. It’s easier not to feel. It’s easier to just be numb.”

“No Greg, no it’s not. You have to fight for it, you do. You are still the same guy that danced in the Lab, the same guy that came back after being blown through the Lab, you are still the same guy that could outsmart us all without even breaking a sweat. You are still there Greg. You need help.”

“I don’t need help Nick, I need to stop being a burden. I can’t live with me, how can you? Don’t you want that, don’t you want someone you can laugh with, go out with, work with, fuck with, make love too,” and Greg started crying harder and harder as all the feelings and thoughts and fears he had been holding onto for months now started pouring out of him.


“Yes Greg, God yes.” Nick stood next to the defeated Greg, almost holding him up as the tears were coming faster now. “But the only person I want them with is you. You Greg, I want a life with you, dance with, laugh with, kiss, hold, make love to, share my life, only you Greg, only you. Don’t you get that?” Nick was practically begging for Greg to believe him.

Greg looked back up at Nick, with red puffy eyes, tear stained face, for all the world looking like a child. “How can you, look at me. I don’t know what to do Nick, I don’t know what to do.” With those words the sobs started coming, and Nick could no longer hold Greg up. He held on as Greg slipped onto the floor, holding him tight. “I don’t know what to do Nick.” Nick could barely understand Greg through his ragged sobs. “ I don’t want to die Nick, God, I don’t want to die, but God Nick, I forgot how to feel Nick, I forgot how to live. I don’t know how to live Nick……… I don’t know how to anymore.”

Greg grabbed Nick’s shirt and buried his head, soaking Nick’s shirt and holding onto Nick with everything he had, because now his life did depend on it.

Nick tried talking through his tear heavy voice. “Then you lean on me Greg, you lean on me, and we’ll do it together, you hold on to me. I’m not gonna let you go Greg, you hold onto me. I love you G, you just hold onto me…...” Nick’s tears fell into Greg’s hair, and Nick just held him tighter, vowing to never let go, as he felt Greg release his frustrations and cry out his fears, his pain, his innocence.

And they held on and cried together on the bathroom floor, cried for what they almost lost, for the love they had once shared, and hoped to find again. And Greg for the first time since a dark night in May, felt like he was alive.

When he first awoke, he felt something he'd forgotten existed in the past weeks, months, maybe even ever. Time hadn't much mattered to Greg as of late. But when he awoke this time, he felt warmth, human warmth. He could not remember the last time he felt warmth coming from another person, not even Nick. It felt good, like a hot shower after a desert crime scene or a cup of hot coffee on a cold night in Las Vegas. He did not remember it being so special, but it was one of those things a person could forget how good they had it until the well goes dry and they are without. He had gone without for so long, and now he couldn't remember why.

He remembered a fight, screaming, words of anger and fear and love being shouted back and forth between he and Nick. He remembered ending up in the bathroom, standing there as Nick threw away his pills down the toilet and flushed his chance of escaping away. His pills that he kept, he so needed them, afraid without them he would be stuck and alone. Then the hurt and anger came back as the words did. Not at Nick, but at his actions, his life, his failures at work and the mess of a relationship with Nick he had now. He could have never imagined would feel so cold and distant. Words ripping from his chest to the point his throat felt raw and he was empty. All his anger and fear spilling out to the one person that was the innocent and guilty of his wrath of anger and fear and utter hopelessness at the existence he called life. He remembered the words he spat at Nick in sheer fury, at himself for giving in to misery and desperation he had felt for so long. No other feelings even registered with him after a time. He existed, barely, and he hadn't even wanted that anymore.

He remembered Nick reaching for him as the words and tears poured from him. Nick holding him and easing him to the floor when he could no longer stand on his own two legs. How he yelled and fought and cried some more, until nothing was left but the tears. He had no idea how long they had lain there like that, he wrapped tight in Nick's embrace. Nick's shirt soaked in his tears as Nick held him and rocked him like a child, telling him it was all going to be all right cause he was here for him now and always. Listening and feeling Nick's tears as well. He promised it would be ok, that they would fix it. He told Greg if he ever left him, that he would never forgive him and it still wouldn't stop him from loving him for the rest of his life.

The release of letting it all go, of just feeling something in such a long time, had been tiring and difficult. But he also felt something this morning he had not felt in a long time, hope. He turned in his lover's arms to look at him. Nick lay there still in sleep, eyes shut, but he looked relaxed Greg noticed. He didn't remember the last time Nick looked peaceful in sleep. The little lines were gone, the worried expression and the hard outline of his lips were not present. There was also no shifting and turning. His mind lost in a fitful night's sleep, where dreams were harder to face than reality. Greg reached up and brushed his fingertips along Nick's beautiful face. Across his strong jaw, down to his full lips, and up to his warm and embracing eyes, that were still sticky from the tears he had cried earlier. Tears that he had cried for him, for the thought of losing him. For the fear he felt that Greg didn't love him enough to live. At that moment, Greg didn't believe he could ever love someone more than he did at that moment.

Greg turned back around and snuggled up against Nick's broad chest. Nick instinctively tightened his arms around Greg's waist, just like he had always used to do. Greg treasured the feel of Nick's strong protective arms wrapped around him and took in a deep breath and relaxed into the familiarity of it all. Savored the warmth, the love, and smell of Nick pressed up again him. Realizing for the first time that Nick has the presence of mind to slip them out of their jeans and t-shirts before they fell asleep. He could feel Nick's bare chest, moving up and down, and thinking how he almost missed this morning. He shut his eyes at that thought, and felt one lone tear streak down his cheek. Then he sent up a silent prayer for Nick, for bringing Nick to this earth, the Fates for knowing this man. But most of all, for the understanding and strength Nick had and given him. If he didn't possess those attributes, Greg was afraid he would not have been there this morning to live this moment. In this warm embrace, smelling Nick's essence all around, his hot breath against his neck, and if this wasn't worth fighting for, nothing was. He let his body drift off to the familiar feeling and thanked God that Nick didn't let him give up.