nickngreg | fic- everything was beautiful (and nothing hurt)

Title: everything was beautiful (and nothing hurt)
Rating: PG
Warnings: Well, there’s a lot of Sara in this one, so if you hate her, this (probably) isn’t for you. Also, there is some Greg angst and pop culture references.
Summary: Greg and Sara spend their day off together.
Spoilers: “Play With Fire,” “Stalker,” “Grave Danger,” “Fannysmackin’” and “Double-Crossed.”

A/N: Another Nick and Greg fic. Takes place a little after “Double-Crossed”. Nick doesn’t actually appear, but it’s definitely Nick/Greg. Greg and Sara talk. Pop culture references abound.

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to its respectful owner; I am making no profit whatsoever off of this. The title is from Kurt Vonnegut’s classic novel Slaughterhouse Five.

Dedication: Dedicated to Shauna who is going forth in all her beliefs and gave me this idea.

i.
“Do you ever think about leaving Vegas?” Greg asks Sara on a Tuesday morning over breakfast.

Sara is quiet for a moment before taking a sip of coffee. “Sometimes,” she says slowly. “Why do you ask?”

Greg takes his time answering. “I dunno. I’ve just been thinking about the Demetrius James thing and-”

“Greg, don’t think about that,” Sara tells him sternly. “James was a killer and he would have killed you without a second thought.”

“I know, it’s just…” For a rare moment, Greg is lost for words. “It’s just I killed someone, Sara. And I can’t get over that.” He shovels some pancakes in his mouth. “And the shit we see every day makes me wonder if, you know, maybe there’s somewhere that’s sunny all the time and there’s no crime.”

The woman’s smile is gentle and beautiful. “There’s no where like that, Greg. It’s impossible.”

ii.
Greg and Sara walk down the street, hardly a foot apart. They time their steps and Sara feels like a bookend. She’s not used to Greg being this quiet. A few years ago, she would have welcomed the silence, but now it’s unnerving.

“You know, when I was little, my favorite book was Peter Pan,” Greg tells her after a moment.

Sara nods. “That’s a nice book and I like the Disney movie.” She smiles. “I always liked how there were mermaids and pirates and Indians on one island and you never questioned it. That’s good writing.”

“I used to want to fly,” Greg adds.

“Who doesn’t?”

“People without souls.”

Sara chuckles.

“There was probably never crime in Never-Never Land,” Greg tells her quietly.

“Well, there were pirates. And Captain Hook wanted to kill little kids for fun.” Sara touches his arm. “Greg, are you okay?”

“I’m always okay. But there was probably never any rape. And I doubt that Hook buried people alive in plexi-glass coffins. And the Lost Boys never beat up people for the hell of it.”

Sara stops walking and Greg stops with her. She takes his face in her hands and secretly marvels at how much taller he is. He seems so much younger than she is. In this bright, morning sunlight, the bruises on his face stand out and she wants to cry. She never thought she had a maternal instinct, but she wants to wrap Greg up in cotton wool and keep him safe from everything. “Greg, you can’t agonize over this,” she murmurs. “Have you… Have you talked to Nick about this?”

Greg shakes his head. “Nick would just listen to me say this and then I’d fall asleep and wake up in the back of his truck and we’d be out of here.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” Sara presses, stroking his cheek.

“Because I trust you,” he tells her and Sara wants to cry.

iii.
While Sara changes, Greg stands outside her house. He leans against the railing and lights a cigarette. A little girl runs by wearing a pink dress and white shoes. He smiles a little and exhales smoke.

“Ready to go?” Greg hears the door open and close, and Sara stands next to him. She changed out of her red T-shirt. The fresh one is white with a panda on the front and the letters WWF emblazoned underneath.

“Ooh, WWF? Are you into wrestling?” Greg asks.

Sara laughs and smacks his arm. “If you must know, it stands for ‘World Wildlife Fund’. And, no, I am not into wrestling.”

With a grin, Greg offers her his arm and they walk off her porch. “It’s kinda weird spending my day off with you and not Nick,” he admits.

“Who’s better company?”

Greg wags his finger at her. “A gentleman never kisses and tells,” he reprimands. After a moment, he murmurs, “Do you think I did the right thing?”

“Of course I do, Greg,” Sara tells him, still very gentle. She remembers what Sofia said, that Greg had physical and emotional scarring that might never heal. Sara will not be the one to tear open those wounds. She wants to put as much antibiotic ointment on them as she can and wrap them tight, keep infections and further scarring at bay. “Anyone would have done the same thing.”

When he answers, Greg sounds close to tears, “I doubt they would have killed someone.” He takes a deep breath. “Sometimes I wish I were still a kid. Then I could be so clean and innocent. I want to do that whole mind-wipe thing from Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. You know how Jim Carrey erases Kate Winslet from his memory? I want that, only I want to erase the lab explosion and getting beaten up and watching Nick in that box and killing Demetrius James.”

Sara takes his hand. “You know, Greg, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”

“Only it doesn’t. It makes you tough. It wears away what was good about you and takes away your humanity,” Greg mutters darkly. “After a while, you get world-weary and you can’t love anymore because all you see is darkness. Darkness and death.”

She cranes her neck and looks up at him. Her Greg, like the annoying little brother never had that she sometimes wanted to throttle but always stayed by her side. Greg, who would always crack a joke and Greg, who listened to loud music in the lab and wore ugly shirts. Greg, who went from a CSI-wannabe to one of the best new CSIs she’d ever seen.

Greg, who was full of self-doubt. Greg, who has scars on his back and face and body. Greg, who watched his lover put a gun in his mouth.

Greg, who’s falling apart piece by piece.

“I don’t think I’m world-weary,” Sara whispers and there are tears in her voice. “I think I can still love. And I know that Nick can still love.”

“I don’t know,” Greg sighs. “Sometimes… sometimes I think-”

“Sometimes you think too much. Nick loves you. I see it. He adores you because you, Greg, you keep him sane.”

Greg half-smiles. “You’re giving me too much credit, Sara.”

Sara shakes her head. “No, I’m not. I’ve seen the way Nick looks at you.”

“So have I,” Greg points out, but Sara shakes her head.

“No, when you aren’t looking. There’s something in his eyes that just lights up.”

“Now you sound like a sappy romantic,” Greg teases, all bitterness gone for a moment.

She shrugs her shoulders. “Hm. Maybe.”

iv.
Sara looks at Greg over the top of her water glass. “So what would you erase?”

“What?”

“If you could have that medical procedure like in that movie, what would you erase from your memory?” she clarifies.

It takes Greg a moment to answer. “Almost all of high school,” he begins. “Bullies, you know, and my headgear. The lab explosion. My hands shaking. Seeing Nick… The whole Demetrius James fiasco.”

Sara puts down her glass. “But didn’t what happened to Nick make you guys love each other even more?”

Greg shrugs. Takes a sip of Coke. “I guess.”

“So… why would you want that gone?”

“The ends don’t justify the means in this case,” Greg snaps. “I’m there for him, okay? I’m the one that hears him wake up in the middle of the night when he drenched in cold sweat and sobbing and screaming because he’s remembering being down in that box! Maybe it did make us closer, but I wouldn’t wish that on anyone! Not Hodges or Ecklie, even. I would rather it never happened.”

Sara stares at him, not moving. “I know, Greg,” she whispers. “I know you’re there for him and I know how much it hurts you both.” She reaches across the table and squeezes his hand.

Greg pulls away from her. “Then why did you ask me that?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to know. I’m sorry.”

He takes her hand again and is quiet. “Sometimes I wish I’d never grown up. I wish I could be a kid again. Because when you’re a kid, you’re always happy, you know? Nothing can bring you down.”

She nods. “You want to be a Lost Boy?”

“Sometimes,” Greg admits. “And I could live in a little home underground with Nick, only it wouldn’t be underground because, you know. And we’d wear bear skins and play with fairies and sleep in trees with Indians and fight pirates.” His smile turns wistful. “But most of all, we would fly.”

There are tears in Sara’s eyes when she says, “All you’d need are happy thoughts.”

Greg smiles a little and his eyes shine. “Yeah. You could come, too, and be our mother.”

“No, that’s Cath. But all the Lost Boys grew up,” Sara reminds him.

“So?”

“So, you’d have to grow up eventually. You can’t stay a kid forever.”

“I could try.”

Sara looks down so that Greg can’t see that she’s crying a little.

v.
“I think I might move to Idaho,” Greg states.

Sara looks at him and raises her eyebrows. “Why?”

Greg shrugs. “I dunno. Seems like a nice place. Didn’t you ever see Napoleon Dynamite?”

“No.”

“Okay, well, it took place in Idaho, in this little town called Preston. And… who would commit a crime in Idaho? I mean, it’s Idaho. All the people are rednecks.”

Laughing a little, Sara says, “Then you wouldn’t fit in at all.”

“How bad could it be? Nick and I could move there and have a little ranch and there’d be cows and pigs and chickens.”

“Greg, Idaho is probably the reddest state in the nation. I doubt they would accept two men living on a ranch.”

Greg ponders this for a moment. “I could get a sex change.”

It takes Sara a few minutes to stop laughing. When she can finally speak, she has to wipe away tears of mirth. “Really, Greg? You think that would solve your problems? Besides, I thought you liked having a penis.”

“I would keep it in a jar.”

Sara keeps laughing before she pulls him into a hug. He’s surprised, but he hugs her back, grinning. “I like it when you’re happy, Greggo,” she tells him.

“You sound like my mom.”

She keeps hugging him. “I don’t care. I can’t stand it when you weren’t happy. You don’t feel like Greg when you’re depressed. You’re like… I don’t know. Hodges,” she teases.

Greg gasps. “I am not like Hodges when I’m depressed! Take it back.”

“Yes, you are. You’re all bitter and snarky.” But she’s smiling. “Do you feel better, now?”

“I guess. I mean, I’ve still got stuff to think about.” He looks better in any case, but that might just be because the bruises are fading and they’ve been walking all over the city, so the sun and fresh air probably helped. Still, Sara worries and tucks some of his hair back.

“You’re gonna be okay, Greg,” she tells him. “You and Nick. You two are gonna be okay.”

He smiles a little. “Thanks.”

They’ve arrived at his doorstep and Sara squeezes his hand. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

“Do I get a kiss?” he jokes.

Sara grins. “Don’t push it, dreamer.” She has to stand up on her toes to hug him again and she whispers in his ear, “Just think happy thoughts.”

Greg holds her tighter and she can feel his tears wet on her hair. “Second start to the right and straight on ‘til morning.”

end