You Save Me 2/16
Nov. 20th, 2006 01:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
csi_sanders1129You Save Me Ch 2
Chapter 2:
Nick stood pacing the hallway in front of Greg’s apartment, unsure of whether the younger man would want him there or not. Every ten or so times he passed the door, he stop, turn, and raise his hand to knock, only to drop it before he made contact and resume his pacing.
After five attempts he sighed, turning to leave, when a voice stopped him.
“Sir, what are you doing?” an older woman stood in her doorway watching him.
“Oh,” Nick stammered, turning around. “I was going to check on my friend, but I don’t think he’ll want to be disturbed, ma’am.” Greg had called out sick today, and Nick was concerned after yesterday’s events in the locker room.
The elderly woman smiled softly. “I’m Mrs. Drake, you must be Nick.”
He cast a curious glance at the woman. “Ugh, yeah, Nick Stokes.”
“Greg tells me about all of his friends from work,” she laughed at his expression. “He seems upset lately, has something happened?”
Nick bit his lip in thought. “That’s what I was planning on talking to him about but he’s not all that talkative as of late, which is not very characteristic of him…”
Mrs. Drake laughed. “You’ve got that right. The only way that I’ve discovered that will get him to stop talking is freshly baked apple pie and vanilla ice cream. Works every time.” She smiled.
He chuckled softly, his confidence boosted enough to try the door one more time. “It was nice meeting you, Ma’am.” He shook the woman’s hand before turning back to the door and knocking on it.
He waited a moment and got no response, as a precaution, Nick tried the handle and was quite surprised when the door opened. He immediately knew something was wrong at that point. Anyone who lived the life of a CSI knew entirely too well what the world could do if you weren’t careful, he was sure Greg locked his doors.
“Greg?” he called into the dark apartment, pushing the door the rest of the way open. “Greggo?”
He heard what sounded like sobbing from one of the doors down the long hallway to his left. “No! No! Get off of me!”
The words he could make out through the wall did nothing to ease his fears and he sprinted the last ten feet to the door, throwing it open, procedure be damned to hell. “Greg?”
The wind was knocked out of him as his body was thrown against a brick wall, the concrete scraping and scarring his already injured back. He swallowed a sob, trying to bring his arms up to cover his chest and head, but they weren’t done yet.
He cried out in pain when something made contact with his stomach again. He dared open his eyes, only to see a boot connect with his chest this time.
“Why?” He coughed. “What did I do to you?” he could barely make out what he was saying, he didn’t expect they could.
Another kick hit his chest and he coughed up a bit of blood in the recoil. “You’re gay, what other reason do we need?” the man before him spat in his face.
“Greg!” Nick was holding him by the shoulders, shaking him lightly to try and get him out of whatever terrible nightmare he was trapped in. “Greg, come on, wake up!”
The younger man shot bolt upright, his eyes wide and his breathing labored. “Get away!” he wailed, squirming his way out of the grasp Nick had on his arms. “Get away from me!”
“Greg!” Nick yelled, locking his eyes with the spiky haired man. “Relax. You were having a nightmare.”
Greg shook his head, backing away from Nick when he finally let go. “No… It wasn’t just a nightmare…”
The Texan shot him a questioning gaze. “Wh – what? What are you talking about, Greggo?”
He shook his head, “Nothing.”
“Would you please talk to me? I want to help you and I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what’s gotten you so upset lately.”
“I was raped!” Greg shouted back, before turning away and locking himself in the bathroom.
Nick stood frozen to his spot for several moments before he regained control over his body. “What?” he demanded. He couldn’t believe this, someone had done that to him twenty-six years ago and now… the man he loved was experiencing the same thing.
“Greg, please come out here.” He asked quietly.
A muffled sob followed. “Nicky, drop it.”
He shook his head, despite the fact that the traumatized man couldn’t see it. “Never. You want me to walk out of here knowing this happened to you and not do anything about it? Never. I can’t do that, Greggo.”
“Why do you care what happens to me?” Greg snapped, throwing the door open to come face to face with the Texan. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?”
“I want to help you,” Nick replied, his hands on Greg’s shoulders. “You’re my friend and I want to help.”
“A lot of people at the lab are my friends. I don’t see them sprinting over here. Why are you?” he growled, pulling away from him and moving across the room.
Nick sighed, so far, only one person knew what happened to him when he was little, looks like he was about to make it two. “Because, I was raped, too. When I was nine. I know what you’re going through. It’s hard and it sucks and you can’t get through it without help.”
Greg stared at him for several seconds, contemplating whether to tell him or not, hanging his head and closing his eyes, he nodded; “Alright. I’ll tell you.”
Chapter 2:
Nick stood pacing the hallway in front of Greg’s apartment, unsure of whether the younger man would want him there or not. Every ten or so times he passed the door, he stop, turn, and raise his hand to knock, only to drop it before he made contact and resume his pacing.
After five attempts he sighed, turning to leave, when a voice stopped him.
“Sir, what are you doing?” an older woman stood in her doorway watching him.
“Oh,” Nick stammered, turning around. “I was going to check on my friend, but I don’t think he’ll want to be disturbed, ma’am.” Greg had called out sick today, and Nick was concerned after yesterday’s events in the locker room.
The elderly woman smiled softly. “I’m Mrs. Drake, you must be Nick.”
He cast a curious glance at the woman. “Ugh, yeah, Nick Stokes.”
“Greg tells me about all of his friends from work,” she laughed at his expression. “He seems upset lately, has something happened?”
Nick bit his lip in thought. “That’s what I was planning on talking to him about but he’s not all that talkative as of late, which is not very characteristic of him…”
Mrs. Drake laughed. “You’ve got that right. The only way that I’ve discovered that will get him to stop talking is freshly baked apple pie and vanilla ice cream. Works every time.” She smiled.
He chuckled softly, his confidence boosted enough to try the door one more time. “It was nice meeting you, Ma’am.” He shook the woman’s hand before turning back to the door and knocking on it.
He waited a moment and got no response, as a precaution, Nick tried the handle and was quite surprised when the door opened. He immediately knew something was wrong at that point. Anyone who lived the life of a CSI knew entirely too well what the world could do if you weren’t careful, he was sure Greg locked his doors.
“Greg?” he called into the dark apartment, pushing the door the rest of the way open. “Greggo?”
He heard what sounded like sobbing from one of the doors down the long hallway to his left. “No! No! Get off of me!”
The words he could make out through the wall did nothing to ease his fears and he sprinted the last ten feet to the door, throwing it open, procedure be damned to hell. “Greg?”
The wind was knocked out of him as his body was thrown against a brick wall, the concrete scraping and scarring his already injured back. He swallowed a sob, trying to bring his arms up to cover his chest and head, but they weren’t done yet.
He cried out in pain when something made contact with his stomach again. He dared open his eyes, only to see a boot connect with his chest this time.
“Why?” He coughed. “What did I do to you?” he could barely make out what he was saying, he didn’t expect they could.
Another kick hit his chest and he coughed up a bit of blood in the recoil. “You’re gay, what other reason do we need?” the man before him spat in his face.
“Greg!” Nick was holding him by the shoulders, shaking him lightly to try and get him out of whatever terrible nightmare he was trapped in. “Greg, come on, wake up!”
The younger man shot bolt upright, his eyes wide and his breathing labored. “Get away!” he wailed, squirming his way out of the grasp Nick had on his arms. “Get away from me!”
“Greg!” Nick yelled, locking his eyes with the spiky haired man. “Relax. You were having a nightmare.”
Greg shook his head, backing away from Nick when he finally let go. “No… It wasn’t just a nightmare…”
The Texan shot him a questioning gaze. “Wh – what? What are you talking about, Greggo?”
He shook his head, “Nothing.”
“Would you please talk to me? I want to help you and I can’t do that if you don’t tell me what’s gotten you so upset lately.”
“I was raped!” Greg shouted back, before turning away and locking himself in the bathroom.
Nick stood frozen to his spot for several moments before he regained control over his body. “What?” he demanded. He couldn’t believe this, someone had done that to him twenty-six years ago and now… the man he loved was experiencing the same thing.
“Greg, please come out here.” He asked quietly.
A muffled sob followed. “Nicky, drop it.”
He shook his head, despite the fact that the traumatized man couldn’t see it. “Never. You want me to walk out of here knowing this happened to you and not do anything about it? Never. I can’t do that, Greggo.”
“Why do you care what happens to me?” Greg snapped, throwing the door open to come face to face with the Texan. “Why won’t you just leave me alone?”
“I want to help you,” Nick replied, his hands on Greg’s shoulders. “You’re my friend and I want to help.”
“A lot of people at the lab are my friends. I don’t see them sprinting over here. Why are you?” he growled, pulling away from him and moving across the room.
Nick sighed, so far, only one person knew what happened to him when he was little, looks like he was about to make it two. “Because, I was raped, too. When I was nine. I know what you’re going through. It’s hard and it sucks and you can’t get through it without help.”
Greg stared at him for several seconds, contemplating whether to tell him or not, hanging his head and closing his eyes, he nodded; “Alright. I’ll tell you.”
