nickngreg | Round Robin-- Part 2 (Reply)

ROUND ROBIN: A new chapter by a different author every two weeks!
Part 2: Where Revelations Are Made
Author:

gregisamazing
Beta: The very wonderful Eve, whom I owe my life to.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Swearing, Homophobia, Blood and a very very vague reference to smexual situations.
Summary: Sometimes your private life makes an appearance at work
Spoilers: None, I would think...
A/N: I know it is a little early, but I have work tomorrow morning (rather early too) so I wanted to get this is before hand. Also, many props to the amazing

beelikejwho organised this all and kept me on tabs. You are wonderful hun! Oh, and my apologies for all but 'kerpoofing' on the fandom-- I hope this makes up for it!
Disclaimer: As much I'd love to claim ownership, CSI is only mine in my dreams. The Royal Flush, however, is my creation.
Previous parts: Part one.

The ride over to the scene was excruciatingly painful for Greg, who was still trying to convince himself that he was not disappointed that Catherine had cut their conversation short. After all, it wasn’t as if it was that important…but no matter how many times he repeated it over and over, he was still no closer to believing it because it had seemed important to him.

And now he really wished he could just flash-forward straight to breakfast.

Unfortunately it was just his luck (and Greg seriously believed that Las Vegas Crime Lab had run right out of luck) that the scene they pulled up to looked like it would take hours to process.

“—the manager doesn’t know what happened.”

Greg started, realising that Catherine was looking right at him waiting for his assent and he hadn’t really been listening to a word.

“Right,”

“You didn’t listen to a word of it, did you?” Catherine asked, a brow already raised and Greg couldn’t help but feeling like he was being scolded by his mother, which was quite a disturbing thought.

“Of course I did.” The retort doesn’t make him sound like a kid, not at all. Apparently Catherine thought exactly the same thing, if the glare was anything to go by.

“Well, how about you paraphrase it for Nick? He definitely wasn’t listening.”

Nick jumped like a scalded cat and attempted to look abashed, much to Greg’s amusement, as Catherine turned her glare onto him.

“Sorry Cath,” and he added one of his dazzling smiles that didn’t make Greg’s breath catch. “I think we’ve both got other things on our minds.”

And Greg was sure he imagined the wink that Nick gave him.

Catherine, on the other hand, must have caught that there was something going on that she didn’t understand because her eyebrows disappeared behind her fringe. What confused Greg even more was that even he didn’t know what was going on…and he really should have known.

“As I was saying before,” she started and her voice was definitely bordering on the reprimand side of things. “It’s one of the more alternative clubs in Vegas and if the media gets hold of this there’s going to be trouble. We’ve only just managed to put one lot of the prejudiced bastards away; we really could do without another.”

“A copy-cat?” The youngest CSI asked as dread began to settle in his stomach. He hadn’t been on the last case but what he’d heard off the Swing Shift had made his blood boil. Greg could see that the others were thinking the same thing if their serious expressions were anything to go by. “But why so soon?”

“It’s not definitely a copy-cat—“

“But it’s just too coincidental for us not to suspect that.” Nick finished for her and Greg wondered whether it just hit a little too close to home for Nick too, or whether the tightening of his jaw was a normal response to what could potentially be a copy-cat case.

Catherine nodded and made her way out of the car, signalling for the other two CSI’s to follow suit. As soon as Greg saw where they were, he could feel his stomach convulsing and threatening to empty its contents onto the pavement.

“Oh shit.” He mumbled as the sign above the door proclaimed it ‘The Royal Flush’ club. Of all the places, of all the bars in Las Vegas it had to be this one. And it wasn’t any ordinary club, it was his club.

He could feel the blood drain from his face and he could feel the cold sweat collecting on his palms. He felt as though his chest was constricting and he knew he was close to panicking.

“Is something wrong?” His voice was laced with concern and it was far too close to his ear. “Greg?”

He must have stepped closer, because Greg could feel the heat radiating off him and there was a comforting hand on his shoulder acting as an attempted anchor to get him to calm down.

“What’s wrong?” It’s Catherine that said something that time returning from the initial brief realising that neither of her fellow CSI’s had followed her. “Greg, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Greg tried to focus, but really how could he when he could have quite easily have been in there if he had the night off? And then it struck him, heavy like a punch to the stomach.

“I know people that come here.”

Catherine’s eyebrows once more disappeared off into her hairline, whilst Nick’s comforting hand became more of a pressure on his shoulder and it he squeezes it in an act of support that Greg can’t help but sigh at. (Mind you, it’s nowhere near a blissful sigh, not at all.)

“Are you going to be okay with working the scene?” Nick asked and Greg is nearly 100% sure that there’s genuine concern there. “If you’re not, I’m sure Catherine and I can handle it.”

He took a few deep breaths that seemed to solidify his resolve and stepped away from the reassuring presence of the Texan, despite not really wanting to, and he nodded.

“I can do this.”

Catherine offered him one of her small, proud smiles and led them up to where Brass was stationed with numerous confused and terrified patrons surrounding him, all of whom were asking ‘to just go home’. Greg was careful not to catch any of their eyes, keeping his head down as Brass explained the situation to them.

“The two bodies are in the bathrooms. No one has any clue who they are, or what happened. The manager found them in there after being told that one of the stalls had been locked and no-one was in there. Unfortunately for him, there were people inside and neither of them were in any state to be answering any questions.”

“Did he call the paramedics?”

“No need. He said that with the amount of blood in the area he knew that they wouldn’t be alive.”

Greg’s stomach clenched once more. He knew that once he’d seen this, all of the other memories would be completely tarnished and he’d never be able to come back again. This was a merge of private life and work that really wouldn’t be pleasant.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“I’m going to be fine.” Greg whispered back, “I know you’ve got this hero complex and all, but I can manage Nicky.”

Something flashed in his eyes that disappeared as quickly as it had come; and Greg didn’t get the chance to identify it. But before he even got the chance to ponder what it could have been, Nick shoved him towards the entrance.

“Lead the way.”

He tentatively made his way through the club, attempting to distance this place he was seeing now from the one he thought knew. He’d never seen it empty before, nor had he seen it with the lights on and somehow that subtracted from the mystery he was used to. Of course, he couldn’t examine it as closely as he wanted to because Nick was still flanking him and insisted on keeping a very close eye on Greg.

“The bathroom’s this way.” Greg said, realising only a split-second too late that he shouldn’t really know where anything was. But either Nick didn’t notice, or he was too noble to comment, because he followed without question.

Pausing outside the door, Greg could already smell the lingering scent of congealing blood which was all wrong. Even the usually smooth oak beneath his palms felt roughened and he could feel all of the memories souring.

“Nothing for it,” he mumbled, pushing open the door and preparing himself for the assault.

The lighting was harsh upon his skin; it was too bright and reminded him too much of the morgue. This wasn’t helped by the chrome and steel features that adorned the walls, attempting to give the room an air of grace. There had been numerous times that Greg had come in here, but never had he noticed any of this before (then again, he was normally otherwise occupied with lips pressing against his).

“Wow.” Only Nick would voice his approval to a restroom.

He moved to the furthest stall and pushed the already slightly ajar door completely open. There, surrounded in a pool of intermingling blood were two bodies eternalised in an embrace.

“Oh fuck.”

And even Nick’s hand on the small of his back wasn’t enough this time…

... to be continued on November 9 by amazn_azn1222!

Information on the Round Robin project: here