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Nick ran his fingertips over his lips, the skin tight and chapped. He ran the tip of his tongue over them and glanced at his watch, unsure how much longer he should stay. Maybe this was stupid; it certainly didn't feel like something he was supposed to do, whatever that felt like. Because of that, he wasn't entirely sure why he was doing it.
Coworkers didn't sit at hospital bedsides for an hour waiting for their colleague to wake up. The only other people to visit Greg from the crime lab had been Catherine and Warrick, and that was only to question him about the explosion. So, why was Nick here?
The simple answer, he supposed, was that he and Greg were more than coworkers. They must've been friends, otherwise Nick wouldn't be here.
His heart gave a hard pound against the inside of his chest. He sighed, leaned back, and stretched his arm over the back of his chair. He studied Greg for a long while, not concerned about getting caught; he'd been dead asleep the entire time Nick had been there.
There was such a harshness in the way he looked as he slept, and at the same time--so delicate. Greg was stiff, lying on his side due to the burns on his back. His body under the blanket was curled nearly fetal--Nick wondered if that was how Greg always looked when he slept. He didn't know why that mattered, but for some reason thinking about it made him sad; either Greg always slept like this, meaning he slept like a wounded animal, or this was a new, subconscious effect of the accident.
Nick's heart sank. What if Greg was a completely different person when he came back? What if he stopped listening to music in the lab, stopped cracking jokes with everyone, stopped wearing graphic tees and his hair spiked? What if he stopped working at the Crime Lab altogether?
Nick knew it was probably selfish, but the thought of losing Greg sort of felt like losing a part of his body. But--if it was selfish, that must've meant he really cared about Greg, right? So, then, it wasn't selfish. He was worried about him leaving because he really liked Greg. And he cared about his well-being, clearly. Otherwise he wouldn't have been sitting there for so long. So, he liked Greg, he cared about Greg, and that was a good thing. Of course, it certainly didn't feel good right now.
Nick's thoughts were interrupted by a grinding sound; he looked down and realized he'd been carving little half-moons into the plastic chair with his thumbnail. He looked back up and saw that Greg was stirring in bed. Nick hoped that he hadn't woken him.
Greg let out a breathy groan as he blinked his eyes open, then raised his head a little higher once he recognized Nick sitting at his bedside.
"Hey," Greg said softly, legs twisting to get comfortable.
"Hi." He responded with a nod and a quick smile.
"How long have you been there?" Greg moved his hand to cover the bandage on his cheek.
"Not long," Nick lied, "Maybe fifteen minutes, max." Greg shuffled, still trying to get comfortable without moving over onto his back.
"Hmm," He grunted in response, sucking in a deep breath and stretching his arm out in a wide arc. "'m sorry, been asleep all day."
Nick watched, shy, almost feeling like there should be something for him to do. He stood up, pulling the chair closer to Greg's bedside and sitting back down.
"Don't worry about it, G. You need all the rest you can get."
Greg gave a sleep-drenched smile that made something in Nick's stomach quiver. Strange.
"So... are you here to ask me about the lab?"
"Nope, that's Catherine and Warrick's case. I'm still on the homicide with Sara. No, I just..." Nick trailed off, trying to think of a way of saying "I wanted to see you" in a way that didn't sound so... romantic.
"Missin' my pretty face?" Greg finished with a snide grin, instantly making Nick laugh.
"No, actually, I was just wondering if you had those headphones I lent you--" he joked, Greg cackling in response. It felt good to see him like this, Nick thought.
"Son of a bitch." Greg said with mock-anger. Nick chuckled, leaning forward to rest his hand on the edge of his bed. He sighed, picking lint off the heavily starched hospital blanket, bashful. He felt like a teenage girl talking to her crush.
"I'm glad you're okay." He said without looking up, smiling softly to himself.
"I'll be fine, I'm sure." Greg said quietly. Nick nodded.
"We were all worried about you, I mean..." he blinked back tears. "It looked pretty bad." Nick finished, swallowing past a lump in his throat.
"It felt pretty bad." Greg replied, rolling the blanket's hem between his thumb and index finger. Nick watched it from the corner of his eye.
"How's Sara? Grissom said she was hurt."
"You talked to Grissom?"
"Well--he talked to the doctor while I was out, and they told me when I was awake the first time."
Nick nodded.
"She's alright, she's... she's handling it."
Greg watched Nick.
"That bad?"
Nick glanced up, sharing a look of recognition with him. He grimaced, and looked back down.
"Sara got a little reckless today. She cleared a room before Brass. Almost got herself killed."
Greg was silent, his fingers still. He nodded, but gave no other response.
"Sorry, you probably don't want to talk about that kind of stuff." Nick's chest felt bound by something that threatened to break.
"I'll be fine." Greg said softly, sounding unconvinced.
"I know," Nick countered, blinking back another wave of hot tears, "You're the big man on campus."
Greg snickered. "What?" He shot out, boyishly.
"Yeah. Oh, yeah. Everybody loves you, Greg. Really."
"Hm!" Greg snorted. "I'm sure. Oh--Hodges must be in pieces."
Nick chuckled, his eyes glassy. He sniffed, trying to clear his throat without alerting Greg.
Slowly, Greg's hand slid over until it was on top of his. Nick stopped picking at the lint and spread his hand to let him hold it. For a few seconds, neither of them said anything. Nick's hand felt hot underneath Greg's. He thanked God that he wasn't hooked up to a blood pressure monitor right then and there.
"We all just... went back to work.” Nick said softly. “They took you to the hospital, they cordoned off the lab, and then we were told to just... clean up."
Greg chuckled softly.
"Sure puts into perspective how special I really am."
Nick instinctively shook his head, then gave a shy smile.
"It was so weird, but at the same time it didn't feel like there was anything else we could do."
Greg nodded, watching Nick carefully.
"Crime never stops, neither can we. I don't hold it against anybody." He said with a limp shrug.
Nick nodded. He ran a hand over his chin, trying to shove away the image of Greg's limp body being carried out on a stretcher.
"Y'know... in Texas, there were a few times I almost blew up."
Greg snorted. "Yeah, that makes me feel so much better."
"I swear, I must've found at least twenty pipe bombs during those years."
"Hah! Nick--" Greg giggled, "I don't want to think about you almost blowing up, man."
Nick smiled.
"That's not even including the stuff that happened when I was a cop."
Greg matched his biting grin.
"I bet it was scary any time someone got a hankering for pork."
Nick gave a mock-scandalized expression.
"You better watch yourself, boy. I don't care that you blew up. I'll finish the job right here." Nick replied.
Greg let out a sharp, loud laugh.
"Nurse!" He shouted, a mischievous glimmer in his eye.
"No, stop, stop--" Nick shushed him, giggling.
"Nurse!" Greg called again. Nick leapt forward and covered his mouth with his fingers. Greg laughed, making one more attempt at a shout before grasping Nick's wrist and tugging it away from his mouth. The sudden force caused Nick to fall forward and knock his forehead against Greg's.
"O-ow, god!" Nick laughed, leaning back and rubbing his forehead. "Alright, fine, I surrender."
Greg smirked, proud of the damage he was still able to do from a hospital bed.
Nick slid his hand over and grabbed Greg's again. His skin was still cool to the touch. Nick ran his thumb over the back of Greg's hand with a smooth pressure, focused on it to avoid meeting Greg in the eye.
"I'm glad you're here, Greg."
Greg studied him with an ambiguous expression, the corners of his mouth turning up as he thought of a joke he could use to deflect from the tenderness of the situation, then reconsidered.
"Yeah, me too." He said somberly, watching Nick, who was still focused on Greg's hand in his.
They sat together for a little while longer, chatting until Greg fell back asleep, his mouth open slightly and forming a perfect lowercase "o". Nick thought it was tender. He sighed, standing up halfway to place a gentle kiss on Greg's forehead, then brushed a hair away from his face. The gesture was too intimate for Nick to want to decipher, despite the fact he didn't really know why he was doing it. He whispered goodbye and turned away, not seeing the soft smile that formed on Greg's lips as he left.