Title: Hands To Heaven
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: Greg Sanders/Steve McGarrett
Fandom: CSI: Vegas/Hawaii Five-0
Rating: PG-13
Table: 1, stories_a_z
Prompt: H
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 Steve McGarrett, unfortunately, just borrowing them for a while. Please do not sue.

***

Steve lay back in the lounge chair on the front porch of his house, watching as Greg made his way down to the water's edge. He hadn't felt like getting up and joining his boyfriend, but he liked watching Greg whenever he was walking on the beach.

Life had been good for the past few weeks. He was in a stable, committed relationship, and he'd found the person he intended to be with for the rest of his days. He fell more in love with Greg every day that they were together; their relationship just seemed to keep getting better.

He hadn't had any particular plan as to how he wanted his relationship with Greg to progress; it had just happened out of the blue, and he wasn't going to try to fix it to a timetable. It was enough for him that the two of them were together, and that they were happy.

Steve couldn't help frowning when he thought about how his working hours had been progressing. They were still no closer to finding where Wo Fat was hiding out; it seemed as though his nemesis had disappeared off the face of the earth, though he knew that wasn't true.

No, Wo Fat was out there, waiting to make a move. Steve tried to keep alert at all times, even when he wasn't on duty, knowing that his enemy was just as likely -- probably even more so -- to try the tactic of surprise as he was to strike directly at the 5-0 team.

He'd done that before, and Steve knew that he had to keep an eye out for something like that to happen again. It was one of the reasons that he'd wanted Greg to move in with him; he wanted to be sure that the man he loved was safely under his protection.

It was probably ridiculous for him to worry about Greg's safety so much, he told himself, sighing softly and closing his eyes. After all, Greg had been a CSI for a long time before he'd left Las Vegas. He knew how to take care of himself; he wasn't a helpless child.

But Greg didn't carry a gun, and he wasn't trained in protecting himself. Steve couldn't keep away a nagging feeling at the edge of his consciousness that told him he had to watch out for his boyfriend, make sure that Greg was kept as safe as possible.

He had no doubt that Wo Fat would try to use Greg against him at some point; after all, they didn't hide their relationship, and it was obvious that they lived together as more than roommates. Wo Fat had to know how precious Greg was to him.

At the moment, everything seemed safe and tranquil. Steve felt that he could let himself relax and sit back, at least for the present; it was a beautiful day, peaceful and quiet, and there were no pressing cases that would take the two of them away from home for the day.

His life had changed so much since he'd met Greg, Steve reflected with a contented sigh. He had found the person he'd been looking for all of his life; he felt more complete than he ever had, with all of his cares and worries taking a back seat for the time being.

When they'd first met, he had been hit by such a strong wave of physical attraction that he hadn't thought what he felt could possibly be anything that would last. But that attraction had quickly turned into much deeper emotions; it hadn't taken him long to fall in love.

What would he do if Greg was somehow taken from him? Steve shuddered at the thought, pushing it away from him as quickly as he could. He didn't even want to think about that possibility. It wasn't going to happen; he was going to keep Greg safe.

He opened his eyes, looking up at the blue sky above, at the waves rolling in on the beach, and at Greg's slender figure standing there in front of them, facing away from him, looking out towards the sea. What was his boyfriend thinking, standing there staring at the waves?

Was Greg thinking about him, about the emotions they shared, the feelings that had brought them to each other? Was he thinking about more mundane, everyday things, or about one of the cases they were working on at the moment?

Steve had no way of knowing, not unless he asked Greg. And at the moment, he was feeling far too lazy to get to his feet and make his way down to the beach. Besides, Greg would probably turn around and come back to the house within a few minutes.

But his boyfriend kept standing by the water, looking out over the waves, raising a hand to shade his eyes. Whatever Greg was watching, Steve was tempted to go down to the beach so he could see it, too, but he didn't want to get up. He was feeling lazy, for once.

They'd had a hard week; there had been four cases that they were working on, and they'd successfully unraveled two of them. The other two were ongoing, and Steve had no idea when they would be over, but the team was making inroads into both of them.

He had no idea when they might be called upon to go back to the office, or to another crime scene. He'd kept his cell phone by his side, turned on in case of an emergency, but so far, there had been no call, and he was thankful for that.

If he'd been the kind of man who did such things, he would be sitting here raising his hands to heaven and giving thanks for all of the good things in his life. He had good friends, a job he loved, his health, and most importantly, someone he loved in his life and in his heart.

There were times when it still amazed him that he'd found such happiness in his life; until he'd met Greg, he had been convinced that he was going to spend his life alone. He would never have believed that he'd ever find such contentment in his life, not if he lived for a million years.

But Greg had changed everything. From that first look, that first smile, he'd been head over heels -- even if he hadn't wanted to admit it to himself at first. Once he'd thrown caution to the winds, he had opened his heart. And since that moment, he'd never been happier.

It happened in a heartbeat, so quickly that Steve barely had time to register what was going on, much less to move out of his chair and head towards the beach. With frightening suddenness, three men appeared out of the trees near the beach, heading for Greg.

Within a few seconds, one of them had grabbed his boyfriend, forcing Greg's arms behind his back and clamping a hand over his mouth. Another one turned towards the house, a gun in his hand, aiming it directly at where Steve sat on the front porch.

For one split second of clarity, Steve could see every detail of the tableau in front of him -- including the tattoo on the back of the hand that covered Greg's mouth. It was a spider tattoo, a spider fashioned out of a diamond. He'd seen that tattoo before -- on one of Wo Fat's men.

But he didn't have time to think about what he was looking at; the gun that was pointed at him was meant to end his life, or at least to do whatever damage it could. He barely had time to file the information about the tattoo away in his mind before a shot rang out.

Steve instinctively dived for the ground, rolling over until he'd reached the safety of the side of the porch. He heard a shot ring out, then another two, before he got to his feet -- to find that all three men had vanished, along with his boyfriend.

He sprang to his feet, running towards the beach where he'd last seen Greg. But the men who'd taken his boyfriend had disappeared as though they had never been there, the only proof of what had happened the churned sand where Greg had been standing.

Wo Fat had taken Greg. He knew that as surely as he knew his own name. And in spite of all his good intentions to protect his boyfriend, Steve had failed Greg when he'd been needed. He had simply let Wo Fat's goons drag his lover away.

No, he hadn't let it happen, he told himself grimly. He'd been too attuned to saving himself, making sure that he didn't get shot. He should have braved the bullets; he should have run to Greg's rescue, even though he didn't have his own gun with him.

That would have been suicide, and he knew it. There had been nothing that he could do; Wo Fat had picked the perfect time to snatch Greg, a time when he knew that Steve wouldn't be expecting anything to happen. This had been a carefully orchestrated kidnapping.

He had no idea where Greg had been taken, or even if Wo Fat intended to let his boyfriend live. He could do nothing now but wait until he was contacted, and hope that Greg was still alive. He had no other choice; Wo Fat had made the first move, one that Steve hadn't expected.

Steve sank to his knees, wanting to bury his face in his hands and sob; instead, he leaned back, raising his hands to heaven and letting out a howl that he was sure could be heard by anyone who might happen to be nearby. It sounded animalistic, unearthly.

The scream seemed to go on forever, gaining in power as it left his lungs and poured out into the air. All of the pain and frustration that he was feeling were loosed upon the world in a keening sound that he didn't recognize as his own voice.

Where could they have taken Greg? He had to find his boyfriend, had to get him out of Wo Fat's clutches. It took Steve a few moments to realize that he had no idea where Greg was, or what Wo Fat might do to him. All he could do was wait for his nemesis to contact him.

This time, when he raised his hands to heaven, it was in a sincere prayer for Greg's safety. He couldn't have found the love of his life, only to lose him so soon, and in such a way. But he could do nothing now other than wait -- and hope that this wouldn't end in an unspeakable tragedy.

***