Date suggests it takes place after 'Grave Danger.' Also, also, brief mentions of Play with Fire.

Nothing Better (The Postal Service)
So just say how to make it right
And I swear I'll do my best to comply

Epilogue

May 19, 2005

"I can't allow you to see him unless you're family, sir. Are you a… brother?" The lady at the front desk sounds so hopeful, like she sees right through Greg and knows he isn't Nick's brother or cousin or long lost whatever, but if he as much as breathes that he is, she'll believe him. She almost looks like she wants Greg to say so.

Greg shakes his head, desperate. "Please. It's really, really important that I see him. Immediately." Greg's voice cracks midway through speaking, but she still shakes her head.

"I'm terribly sorry, sir."

Deciding at this point, it's better to let it go, Greg thanks her and heads back to the waiting room, where the majority of the nightshift is waiting eagerly on his word. Catherine sits up, just as hopeful as the woman at the front desk, but a slow, solemn shake of his head diminishes the half-excitement he sees building in her body language.

"This is bullshit," Warrick says after a moment of silence except for the TV static in the background. "We're closer to him than his family. You know, his parents hardly come to see him?" He scoffs. "He has to be kidnapped before they find it in them to take a flight. And his sisters…" Warrick shakes his head.

Catherine looks even more tired than Warrick, which is quite a feat and a big surprise to Greg, because Warrick looks like death. "Warrick, come on, you get this…" She reaches out to grab at Warrick's hand, but he stands and resumes his fevered pacing around the room. Archie lets out a small groan, exasperated. When Greg shoots him a half-irritated, half-confused look, the A/V tech offers a sheepish smile and apologizes softly.

Eventually, Greg tunes back in to Warrick and Catherine's ongoing conversation. "--If Grissom gets to go in, why don't I?"

"Grissom's leading an investigation," Catherine starts, but is interrupted by the man himself. "How is he?"

"I'm not going to lie, he's not doing well. It'll be a while before he's ready to come back to work." Grissom makes a good show of looking at everyone in the room, but his eyes keep darting back to Greg, as if Greg has answers that Grissom doesn't yet. Greg burrows a little deeper into the comforting confines of his coat and swallows.

Catherine stirs in her seat, crossing and uncrossing her legs nervously. "Did he ask for anyone?"

A blaze of hope starts to build in Greg's chest as he looks to Grissom for an answer.

"No. He just wants to rest." Grissom finally forces his eyes from Greg and says, "You should all go home. Even the Stokes found a hotel for the night. Nick will rest easier knowing you're all at home, safe." Greg wants to ask how Grissom knows that, if Nick actually said that or if Grissom just wants to make sure his team will be ready to go back to work tomorrow night or whenever Ecklie feels cruel enough to demand them back. His mouth refuses to form even the least of the words.

It doesn't take much more coaxing on Grissom's part to convince everyone to leave, and Greg's almost thankful for the out, even if he has to go home and sleep in an empty bed and try not to think of Nick alone in a hospital bed, miserable, whether he's conscious or not.

"Greg? A word, please," Grissom says as the others are gathering their things. Greg stands awkwardly, his joints rubbing together and cracking in protest.

"Hmm?"

"He mentioned you. In passing." Greg's heart skips a beat at this revelation. "Given the circumstances, I decided it would be better to inform you of this away from the others."

Greg takes a few deep breathes to get his heartbeat back under control and hopes Grissom doesn't notice. Grissom notices everything, though. "Um… excuse me?"

"His pain meds make him a bit loopy, of course, so what he's saying could be nowhere near what he means, but with my understanding, I think he was asking for you." Greg's indecisiveness must show on his face, because the next thing Grissom says is, "I've already informed the nurse that Nick's half-brother…" Choked laughter emerges from Greg's lips; Grissom lying to hospital staff, or anyone, for that matter, isn't exactly a new development, but Greg hasn't had the liberty of someone lying for his case in a while. "…will be in to see him tonight. I don't know why—" The look in Grissom's eyes says he does indeed know why, but doesn't want to explicitly speak it aloud. "—But he needs you."

Greg can only nod.

"I'll be sure that you're covered at work," Grissom says simply, then leaves. Greg slowly makes his way back through the halls to the elevator, up to Nick's room.

He has a private room, probably because of a combination of the ant bites prominence and Grissom's lying, but that makes things easier, almost. Not for Greg, but for Nick. When he's awake, he doesn't have to deal with prying eyes, other people wondering what happened, and no children to ask mortifyingly innocent questions before their parents pull them away.

He'll get enough pity from the nurses and his coworkers. Greg definitely doesn't pity him; he wishes he could've taken his place, sure, but he doesn't pity him. Not many people are buried alive and live to tell the tale. People might say he's a hero of sorts, but to Greg, Nick's so much beyond a hero.

He takes a deep breath, and pushes open the door to Nick's room.

Nick's quiet, still except for his right hand twitching as though he's asking for something. Greg carefully scoots a chair closer to the bed and stares down at Nick's hand. Speechless. Because really, what's he supposed to say? Whatever he might think of would fall on deaf ears anyway. And it's not like there's much to say. 'I love you,' maybe, but despite how much truth in that, there's no reason to say it. Not right now.

Greg's eyes circle around one of the bites on Nick's twitching hand, up his forearm, up to his neck, to his face. Connecting the dots.

It takes all of Greg's willpower not to reach forward and take Nick's hand. He doesn't know the extent of the pain Nick's enduring, or whether it compares to the pain he had after the lab exploded. He doesn't know if even the slightest bit of touching will cause the bites to flare up even more, or if the gesture itself would soothe Nick.

He's out cold. He wouldn't know anyway.

Despite his best judgment, Greg stretches his arm forward and traces the skin that isn't marred by wounds, and sighs.

Someone knocks and opens the door. Greg figures they'll do what they need and leave, but no one enters. "Mr. Stokes?" It takes a minute for Greg to realize that the voice must be speaking to him. He pulls his hand away from Nick and turns to look.

The nurse holds up a tube of ointment, smiling sadly. Even her eyes dart between Nick's face, Greg, and the ant bites defacing Nick's skin. "I have to apply medication to his…" she gestures to her arms as though it completes the sentence. It doesn't, but Greg doesn't want to get thrown out, so he doesn't argue.

"Sure. Do… do you want me to leave?"

The emotion in his voice must give away his reluctance to leave, because the nurse smiles and shakes her head. "No, Mr. Stokes. You can stay."

She calls him by Nick's last name three more times before Greg realizes how much he likes it. He's nothing short of relieved when she wheels in a reclining chair for him an hour later. He's certain he won't use it, but he appreciates the effort anyway.

--

May 20, 2005

Greg wakes up to hushed voices. For a moment, he's forgotten where he is, and it's too bright to open his eyes and find out, so he just listens, letting his eyes adjust to the brightness behind his eyelids first.

"No idea how long he's been here?"

"No, Mr. Stokes. Like I said before, he was here when my shift started."

"Oh, let the poor man sleep a little longer," a woman says, her voice heavy with worry and exhaustion. "He wouldn't be here if he didn't care."

Greg waits for a response, but there isn't one. He forces his eyes open, squinting at the bright light filtering in from the windows. Nick's still sleeping, but he's facing the opposite wall. Greg glances at the monitor on the left side of the bed and based on what he knows about hospital machines, Nick seems to be fine. Beyond that, no one's crying, which can only be a good sign.

"Who the hell're you?" a man with a gruff, angry voice asks. Greg jumps. Nick's parents, right. He should have expected that.

"Uh, Greg. Greg Sanders. I work with Nick." This isn't how he'd hoped to meet the parents. He's not sure how he'd hoped to meet them – or if he ever hoped to meet them, for that matter – but intruding on their private moments with their injured son isn't anywhere on that scope of thought.

Nick's mother blinks rapidly at him, while Nick's father doesn't blink at all. Neither of them introduces themselves. The tension rises quickly, and, with no other idea about what to do, Greg picks himself up and ignores the throbbing pain in his back from falling asleep in the wrong position.

"I can go…"

"I think that'd be best."

"Oh, nonsense. That's not necessary."

They speak at the same time, and share an irritated look. Greg feels awkward, out of place. "I really should go. My boss will want me back at work tonight." He glances at Nick again, focuses on his closed eyes, and wants to leave his cell number, but doesn't want to ask. He wants to crawl in bed with Nick and hold him until everything's okay, but figures that's not exactly a good idea considering the situation at hand.

"Oh, Mr. Sanders, it's no trouble, really. At least give me your cell phone number so I can call you if something arises."

Greg shoots a glance at Nick's father. His expression makes the decision very effortless, at least in one sense. "Please. Don't worry about it." His chest hurts as he says it.

"I insist," Mrs. Stokes says as she digs through her purse. Her husband grimaces and looks away from Nick, towards the painting next to the television. Greg can't decide if he's pissed because Greg won't just leave, or if he's pissed because Greg's there instead of a girl. They both terrify him. "You obviously care a lot about my son. I want to keep you updated on his condition."

Chancing another glance at Nick's father, Greg decides, what the hell, and gives in.

"All right." Greg takes the outstretched writing tablet from Nick's mother and writers his name, cell number, and home number. When he hands it back, she takes it without a word.

"Bye."

"Goodbye, dear."

Mr. Stokes grunts. Greg looks at Nick for one flash of a second, then leaves.

--

May 20, 2005

Nick wakes up in a fit of terror late that night. Alone. Guilt wracks Greg's body like never before when Mrs. Stokes informs him, so much so that after he hangs up, he dry heaves into his kitchen sink.

Later, Greg hears from Sara, who asks maybe a million times why Greg's not at work with the rest of them, and when Greg refuses to answer, defaults to talking about Grissom sticking it to Ecklie about Greg's absence. She asks about Nick and his parents, and if his father is just as stoic as Catherine said he was.

Grissom doesn't demand his presence at work, so Greg spends the night in the hospital with Nick, only arriving after Nick's mother called to tell him that they had already left. Mrs. Stokes seemed to understand his uneasiness around Nick's father, though she hadn't said anything regarding the subject.

Catherine calls Greg's cell phone a few times while he's at the hospital, leaves desperate voicemails begging him to call her back, but he doesn't. After the third message, he shuts it off with plans to say it died if she gets on his case about it.

An hour in, Nick's still sleeping. Greg makes awkward small talk with the nurses for a while, bouncing his legs and cracking his knuckles in nervousness.

"Mr. Stokes, there's a television, you know." Greg nods. The nurse watches him for a moment, then leaves. His hands remain in his lap.

Nick stirs at around eleven o'clock, and his movements halt Greg's. Nick looks at him with half-lidded eyes, offers a small, half-hearted smile, and falls back asleep. Greg's muscles relax.

He's okay.

Around midnight, a male nurse brings coffee when he comes to give Nick another dose of medication through his IV. When Greg asks him how the nurse knew he was a coffee drinker, he says, as he hands over the Styrofoam cup and creamer, "You look like a coffee person," then leaves.

The wonders of modern medicine amaze Greg, as the bites already look like old scars, and he isn't afraid to touch them anymore.

Two AM, Nick wakes up. He's still loopy from the medication and his sentences don't always make sense, but the ones that matter do.

"Greg…"

Still afraid to touch, Greg just hovers over the bed. "Hey."

"Didn't think you'd be here." Greg smiles. Or tries to, at least.

"Couldn't stay away."

Nick swallows and closes his eyes. Sighs. "…Parents?"

"Went back to the hotel. They stay during the day. I'm here at night." Saying it out makes it sound like they're together, like Nick's parents don't know or don't approve. Greg forces the thought away, then laughs humorlessly. "Your dad scares the shit out of me."

Nick smiles. "I'm really sorry. About… everything."

Greg isn't sure what to say, so he just pats Nick's arm where it looks least irritated and tries to make his smile bigger. "Don't worry about it." Nick's hand twitches, and Greg intertwines their fingers.

"'m really sorry. I promise…" Nick shakes himself awake. "S'tired."

"I know." Greg clears the lump out of the back of his throat. "We'll talk later, all right? You just rest."

--

June 14, 2005

The words settle in the back of his throat, but he can't make them come out. I'm so glad you're okay and I missed this and any other sappy, romantic thing he can think of but doesn't want to say.

For a minute, he almost thinks Nick might say it for him, but Nick's mouth remains tightly closed against Greg's neck. Greg's starting to lose feeling in his arms. He tugs him closer, desperate to keep contact. Nick's knuckles press hard against Greg's back, but he's worried that the moment the pressure lessens is the moment he'll lose Nick again.

"You—," His voice gets caught in his throat. "You have to start talking to me."

"I know," Nick says softly, his lips just barely moving against Greg's skin.

"Because--I can't--" Greg coughs, readjusts his neck, and pulls Nick tighter still at the thought of his kidnapping; of losing him for good. "If you--"

"I know," Nick says again, and the tone of his voice tells Greg how much he means it this time. Nick starts to pull away, but Greg tugs him back.

"Don't." He doesn't. "Nicky..."

Nick rocks back and forth, softly, as he might when trying to lull a baby to sleep. "I know." Greg almost wants to tell him to say something other than, I know, but Nick hasn't even been home for a month and Greg's breaking down more frequently than he is. Things hit him harder, it seems. Or Nick's still skilled in trying to make things so much better, to try to be so optimistic that he doesn't show it.

And Greg's with him damn near every second of everyday, so it's not like it's a work thing or something. Grissom hardly lets them be apart.

Nick's voice breaks into his thoughts. "I want you to come with me."

Greg pulls away from Nick's neck long enough to look him in the eye. One of Nick's hands falls from its place on Greg's back and reaches up to wipe at his face. "Come where?" His voice is rough and scratchy, his face tear-stained. Nick doesn't seem to mind.

"Griss and Cath want me to start seeing another therapist."

"Therapy?" Greg's not a big fan of therapy. He swallows. "When?"

Nick brings his other hand up to the other side of Greg's face and rests them there. "Next week." He rubs the pad of his thumbs against Greg's cheekbones, like he's seeing him for the first time in years. Recognition appears on Nick's face that Greg hasn't seen in a long time, and Greg feels a fraction of the guilt melt away. "Wednesday. If you don't want to go..."

"No, I want to go."

Nick smiles, leans forward, and presses their lips together. In a split second, Greg feels all the promises that Nick never used to keep in his kiss. "Greg…" Nick says a moment later, lips still pressed softly to Greg's. "I'm so sorry."

"Apology accepted," Greg mumbles, biting down the feeling for having to apologize back. "I'm just—glad…" He can't make the words come out; settles for closing his eyes and taking a deep breath of air through his nose. Nick's scent invades his nostrils.

"I love you."

Greg smiles, laughs softly, and kisses Nick again. "I love you too."

--

August 5, 2005

"I can't believe… wow." Greg takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "Parents. Coming. Here."

Nick shrugs. "I don't see what the big deal is. You met them… You've met them before."

"Well, yeah… but back then I was just a coworker… now…" He smiles. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Nick settles next to Greg on the couch, lays a hand on his boyfriend's knee. "They'll love you. Emotions were running high in May; they were terrified. The really had no idea who you were and…" He swallows. "That was kind of a defining moment in regards to first impressions at the time."

"I know, I just—It's so weird." Greg pauses. "Did you feel like this when you met my parents?"

Nick takes a moment, then says, "I don't remember. Things were… different, then." He looks at Greg for so long, Greg starts to squirm. "I think you should invite them out again."

Greg laughs. "One insane idea at a time, please. My parents plus your parents in your small, two-bedroom house doesn't sound like too great of an idea."

Nick laughs, shakes his head. "I didn't mean at the same time."

"Oh. Right. Of course." Greg looks up to meet his gaze. "Still. Parents. This weekend." He glances at the calendar. "Ugh. That's, like. Today."

"You're back at that already, huh?"

"It's a big deal, what can I say?"

Later, when Nick's mother hugs him and his father shakes his hand with a hardly contained smirk, Greg dares to glance over at Nick, juggling his parents' luggage in his arms. Nick had insisted on doing it and demanded that Greg not help. Greg figured that the best way to handle that was by just listening to him, because the last thing either of them need is more drama – especially with Nick's parents there.

"So… the infamous Greg." Nick's mother holds Greg out at arm length, hands on his shoulders, studying him. "You seem taller than before."

"No, ma'am."

Mrs. Stokes waves the nicety away and smiles. "Oh, Greg, you don't have to call me ma'am." Greg feels his face heat up but ducks away before Mrs. Stokes calls him out on it.

-

Nick finds him later, after his parents have gone to bed, standing in Nick's kitchen with a full glass of water staring at Nick's fridge. "What's up?" Following Greg's line of vision, he catches him looking at an old photo of Greg still tacked up, small and hardly there, on the upper right corner.

"Me, obviously." Nick smiles, wraps his arms around Greg's waist. Greg loves how Nick is basically a human heater. The shivers that moments ago were pulsing through his body still with Nick's embrace.

"Why are you up?"

Greg hesitates. "Y… They're okay with this?"

Nick's muscles tense, and immediately, Greg thinks, Great, he's going to turn on me again. But Nick just says, "'Course. Should they not be?"

"I dunno. I just… I guess I thought it was weird because, y'know, you're from Texas and.. they're.. your parents and that's kind of a big deal sometimes. And because of the whole thing before, y'know, where we weren't really working out and you said they wanted to meet me one time and never spoke of it again and I thought, maybe—"

With a chuckle, Nick tucks his head against Greg's neck. "My grandparents are probably turning over in their graves, but my parents are fine. If my dad didn't like you, he wouldn't pretend that he did."

Greg scoffs, unconsciously relaxing against Nick. "Yeah, I know. You should've seen the way he was looking at me in the hospital, I swear to God I thought I was going to be lying in a morgue if I didn't get out of there soon."

Rocking back and forth, Nick hums lightly against Greg's ear. Greg shivers again, but for an entirely different reason. "Come to bed."

"Bed," Greg echoes. Nick starts pulling him towards his bedroom, closer to the deep snoring coming from Nick's father, who resides in the spare bedroom. Greg lets him lead. He climbs in beneath sheets and bedding, moaning in appreciation at the warmth from Nick's body heat and slides up against his boyfriend.

"Hey," Nick says, pushing Greg's hair back from his forehead. "I love you."

Grin widening across his face, Greg doesn't even feel ashamed at the giddiness building in his body. "I love you too."

Nick presses a soft, light kiss to his forehead and pulls him close as he whispers a goodnight.

He falls asleep with the smile still on his face.

-End-

thanks so much to everyone who's read this, left reviews, favorited, etc etc. I had fun writing this (which is mostly the point of writing, right? Why write if you don't like it?) and I'm glad you could, y'know, be there to witness it. Or something equally as cheesy.