nickngreg | Ser Sucio, chapter 4.

Author: Exit Music
Title: Ser Sucio, Chapter 4
Fandom: CSI
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: NC-17 due to subject matter.
Warnings: violence of sorts.
Spoilers: contains elements from "Play With Fire" and "Overload."
Summary: AU, Ghosts of the past. Chapter four of a WIP.
A/N: I do not own these characters, I merely worship them.

“Greg?” At first she thought he was asleep, moving closer, his head lowered simply by the exhaustion of sorrow.

“Oh, sweetie…” Hugging him close, hot tears dotted her blouse. It was obvious he had been crying all afternoon, flushed pink, tight dampness.

“They haven’t…let me in yet. Not until he’s conscious.” Catherine exhaled, finding his right hand she squeezed warmly.

“You know that stupid expression doctors use,’ touch and go?’ Well, the bastard used it and I thought I would scream. Dr. Chapman… I think, said that Nick cut deep enough; it would have worked if I hadn’t come home when I did.

It would have worked, Catherine, he wanted this.”

Gently nodding away his words, she draped her jacket around his still soggy shirt.

“Have you heard from his parents yet?”

“They’ll be here in the morning, Mrs. Stokes was kind of short with me, so…yeah.”

Catherine had known about the strain between Nick and his parents, after announcing his relationship with Greg he was blackballed from the vast majority of family functions. He hadn’t seen them in years. She had become a mother of sorts to both; she couldn’t bear the thought of abandonment, the feeling, all too familiar.

“I can’t stop shaking, oh god. He was this close…” A mass of sobs ripped free from within, and she pulled his head to her shoulder.

“I know. It’s going to be ok. He’s here, he’s being taken care of.” The voice of reason.

---

’You didn’t run far enough.’ She stared piercingly, fire licking behind obsidian.

‘My poor little baby, look how you’re shakin.’ He couldn’t shift to run, paralyzing fright cemented matchstick legs. He was nine again, looking down, his bare skin screamed with humiliation.

‘Please, let me go, I won’t tell I promise.’ Pleads pouring forth in vain; she hovered close, her knee dug harshly, pinning him. She touched and rubbed roughly, wrapping fingers around secret places. Friction biting, and little hands tensed, confusion wrenching through fear.

‘I want my momma, please, Celia, stop!’

‘Celia, don’t… please!’

‘Shh, now baby. It’s just a game, we’re just playin’ a game…’

‘CELIA!’

---

“Mr. Stokes, are you ok?” He looked up; a pretty blonde nurse gave loving eyes while soft fingers adjusted IV tubing. He squinted at harsh light, puzzled.

“Where am I?”

“You’re in the hospital, do you remember how you got here?” Closing heavy lids, red lights flashed back pieces of events. He could hear Greg shouting at paramedics, the jagged wail of sirens. The blood blossoming out as it hit the water, rushes of splitting ache, the sharp dragging pinch before he slipped off. The bathtub.

“Oh god. Where’s Greg?” She explained about a doctor okaying visitors, he bobbed his head and drifted off.

---

The coffee was terrible, worse than anything Nick ever made at home. The thought brushed past him, propelling the plunge of cup to nauseating pastel tile. Shuddering, he stared at the steaming liquid decorating the floor. Catherine stroked his neck lightly.

“It’s ok, I’ll clean it up, Greg, why don’t you try the nurses station again?” He mumbled a thank you and turned to the hall.

“Excuse me? Excuse me, has there been any word about Nick Stokes?” The blonde perked up, directing him to the desk.

“You’re Greg, right?”

“Yes, is he awake, can I see him? I’ve been here for hours, please.”

“Let me page the doctor again, we’ll get you in there real soon.” A calming smile, she directed him to the room’s door.

“Wait here just a moment, ok?” The curtains were pulled; he could only make out tinted shadows of a bed. A rustle of polyester, Dr. Chapman floated down the hallway, refusing eye contact he ushered Greg in.

“Just go slow, he lost quite a bit of blood, he might not make too much sense yet.”

“Ok, thanks.” Without reply, the doctor left.

He crept slowly, unsure of balance. Watery eyes caught his, and he fashioned a crooked grin. With hushed voice, he broke the manic silence.

“Hi, Nicky. How… are ya feeling?”

“Cloudy. I think it’s the drugs. My head feels like a big ole balloon about to pop.”

Stifling a weep sound through clenched jaw, he grazed Nick’s cheek with a thumb. Reaching out, he laced cool fingers with his own.

“You scared me, Nicky.” A sleepy face sagged around heavy bones; frown widening.

“I scared me too.”

“Why did you wanna leave me?” Unable to withstand any longer, both let tears stream out.

“I didn’t want to leave you, darlin.’ I wanted… to get rid of her.” Overwhelmed, he coasted off, head drooping. Greg leaned in, kissing his forehead.

---

“Uncle Greg, hey, wake up.” Lindsey tugged on his shirtsleeve, gesturing to the doorway of the waiting room. Wiping his mouth, he straightened up in the seat.

“Morning, Mr. and Mrs. Stokes, I’m Catherine Willows. I work with your son.” Curtly greeting her they headed directly to Greg.

“Are you Greg Sanders?” He smiled weakly, giving a ‘yes’ while offering a hand.

“What did you do to him?” Cringing, father and mother sounding out in anger, he wasn’t prepared.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard fine. He would never’ve thought something like this up if you weren’t around.” Mr. Stokes affected a growl, grayed eyebrows touching as they furrowed.

“You did this, didn’t you? You poisoned my son!” Mrs. Stokes blubbered through shouts.

“I…what?” He couldn’t find the words, grasping at straws. Catherine, noticeably agitated, walked over.

“Mr. And Mrs. Stokes, yes, hi. Would you mind cutting the bullshit for two seconds, we are all here because we care about Nick. This is neither the time nor the place for you to pass judgments on anyone, ANYONE. Now, I think they’ve finished changing his bed, why don’t you go visit him, ok?”

Lindsey whispered a ‘go mom’ in Greg’s ear; he couldn’t help but nod in agreement. As Mr. Stokes stomped out, looking back he shook his head. Without skipping a beat, the girl stuck out her tongue.

Greg watched Lindsey as she attacked the Gameboy with both hands, nearly driving buttons through fluorescent casing. She sensed him, and flicked his elbow.

“Is Uncle Nick gonna be ok?”

“I hope so, shorty.” She scrunched her nose.

“I’m not short, I’m the perfect height for my age.” A laugh fell, alien sound.

---

The breakfast wasn’t sitting well; Nick was convinced the eggs were powdered. Rocking his stomach further, the sight of two people he hadn’t spoken to in ages.

“Momma, Daddy.” He nodded, good boy, nice manners. Mrs. Stokes sat closest, patting his hand.

“How are ya, Nicky? They treating you ok here?” Genuine concern surprising him, his eyes twinkled faintly.

“Yes, they’re real good here. Food ain’t the greatest, but I’ll live.” His commentary sparked her tears, incensing his father.

“Damn it boy, what’s wrong with you? Look what you’ve done to your mother, she’s a wreck!”

“I’m sorry.”

“Good.” Nick shook his head; his father had misheard.

“No, I’m sorry you had to waste money to come out here! Now if you don’t mind, I’d like to concentrate on getting better, so I can go home. Where I live, with my MALE lover, ok?”

“Nicky, good god!” His mother easily disgusted, picking up her purse, she moved away from the bed.

“You dirty little son of a bitch, don’t you talk to us like that!” A nurse passing by stopped in; alarmed by the commotion.

“Excuse me, shall I call security?” Nick craned his head.

“No ma’am, they were just leaving. Leave.” Reminiscent of wounded rats, they scurried out. Nick hollered a goodbye to their backsides.

“Get the hell out!”

The fair-haired nurse, Christy, came to the bedside, adjusting pillows, checking machines.

“Are you ok?” He stretched his mouth, breathing out the last of his rage.

“Yeah, I counted on something like that. Can you get Greg for me please?” She patted his head.

“Sure thing.”

---

“What happened in here, baby?” Greg kissed him lightly.

“What usually happens when Daddy and Junior are in the same room together?” He watched the irritation gather behind sleep-deprived eyes.

“I’m not sorry you called though. At least they know I’m alive and kicking.” Wrong choice of words brought a scowl to Greg’s face.

“You know what I mean.” Nerves screeching, Nick sucked up air as a spasm came over his arm.

“Babe, I’m kinda worn out, would you mind pulling the curtains?” With swift motion Greg rotated, orbiting back to kiss him once more, grazing a tongue over chapped lips.

“Nick…will you tell me who she is?”

No reply.

He watched Nick succumb to weary, muscles relaxing as he sank deeper into sleep, the rise and fall of his chest. He watched facial wrinkling smooth as tension melted, the beep of monitors hypnotically coax out peace. As he felt himself dozing off, a thought hung over, I would be lost….

---
tbc.

Chapter 1 HERE
Chapter 2 HERE
Chapter 3 HERE