You Save Me
A story of opening yourself entirely to someone, loving someone unconditionally, and trust.
Nick/Greg friendship and eventually pairing. Characters are not mine. Please R & R.
He was on auto-pilot, subconsciously processing sample after sample. For the last week he'd been confined to the lab while Mia was out on maternity leave.
"Greg…" the voice echoed in the back of his mind, but he ignored it, starting yet another DNA sample through the computer.
He closed his eyes, turning away from the doors and glass plated windows.
The hand that clamped down on his shoulder caused him to fly out of his own thoughts, falling out of the swivel chair in the process.
The deep throated, familiar, chuckle behind him got his attention quickly.
"Damnit, Nick! That wasn't funny! You shouldn't sneak up on someone like that!" he panted, his breath heavy.
"Chill out, Greggo. While you were off on cloud nine, I called you twice, paged you once, texted you three times, and stood in the doorway for five minutes trying to get your attention. So, in all fairness, that doesn't rank very high on stealth," The Texan explained. "What's with you lately?"
Greg gave him a curious, yet apprehensive look. "What do you mean?"
"You've been acting weird. Jumpy, snappy, fidgeting, quiet… We've all noticed it, Greggo."
The younger man hung his head. "I'm fine, Nick. Don't interfere in things you don't understand."
"I can tell that there's something bothering you. You're my friend. I notice these things." Nick prodded.
Greg offered a half-hearted laugh, turning away. "Like hell you've noticed…" he muttered, ignoring Nick's reply to his statement. "Go away, Nicky."
"Get off of me!" Greg begged, writhing under the man sitting on his now bare chest. His shirt had been torn apart not seconds ago.
The hand across his cheek caused him to recoil and bite his lip hard enough to draw blood, the metallic taste assaulting his senses. "Shut up! Shut up right now or we'll kill you now!" Another slap followed.
He held back the tears that threatened to fall; he refused to give them that satisfaction.
A fist collided with his abdomen, leaving him to croak out a protest that went unheard by the three merciless men assaulting him.
Tears stung his eyes as the memory flashed before him, his back pressed against the cool metal of the lockers. "No…I've cried enough already," he scolded himself, but he still shed the tears. "Damnit…" he cried, throwing his right arm to the side and letting it slam into the lockers, the physical pain it caused temporarily shutting off his emotional anguish.
The resounding noise drew quite a bit of attention, several lab techs poking their heads into the room to see what was going on.
"Greggo…?" Nick's voice broke through the quiet murmurs of the others and the terrifying silence of the room. "What… Why'd you do that?" he looked between Greg's bruised and bloodied fist and his own locker. "Here, let me help you with that."
While Nick stood to retrieve the first aid kit from one of the other benches, Greg turned away, his eyes locked on his mangled hand.
"Give me your hand," Nick instructed, once again shocking Greg out of his thoughts, with that, he pulled the ex-lab rat turned CSI to his feet, sitting him down on the wooden bench. "So, is there any reason you felt the need to punch the hell out of my locker?" he questioned, pouring some Peroxide over the younger mans knuckles.
Greg remained silent, unable to look the man in the eye.
Nick let out a sigh, applying some ointment to the wound before dressing it. "Whenever you're ready to talk, I'll listen."
"Thanks," Greg mumbled, pushing himself to his feet and walking away from his friend.