Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
by Buffyangel68
--------------
10:30 THE NEXT MORNING:
"Hello? Greg? He's in the shower right now. Oh... Dr. Denson. Yeah, well... I don't know if he has one or not, but... No, see, it may not make a difference. He's pretty much... I know he needs to follow up with somebody. It just might have to wait, is all. He hasn't been outside since... Yeah, I'll tell him, but don't get your hopes up for him actually gettin' there. Bye."
Nick hung up and turned back to continue what cleaning he was able to manage. He'd just finished wiping down the kitchen counter when Greg emerged from the bedroom, dressed and carrying a fair sized bag of laundry. He walked toward the front door, hesitated then finished the journey, dropping the bag and quickly turning away. Nick watched, his heart twisting, and he moved to his friend's side. Greg looked at him for a moment then turned his gaze to the window on the other side of the living room. Step by tentative step he made his way there, but then he seemed bewildered, unable to decide what to do next. Nick followed, speaking gently as he came up behind Greg.
"You want me to raise the shade a little?"
Greg paused, making up his mind, then nodded. Nick reached out and pulled the cord that furled the roman shade, lifting the cloth a few inches, allowing natural light into the apartment for the first time in two days. Both men recoiled fleetingly, but their eyes soon grew used to the difference. When he laid his hands on Greg's shoulders, Nick found his friend tense and he spoke again, trying to calm him.
"Relax. I know it feels like some alien planet still... like if you step out there you won't be able to breathe, but you're okay. I'm right here an' you're okay. This is like the soup. It's a step. Here... put your hand on the glass."
"I'm safe..."
"Right. You're still safe. The glass'll keep it all out there."
Fearful, Greg gazed warily out at a world he no longer trusted. Watching the wind combine with the sun to create flickering tree shadows on the grass, memories of similar days drifted through his head and tears welled in his eyes.
"It's bright. Probably hot out."
"Yeah, well, Vegas doesn't get much of anything but sun." Nick chuckled.
"I know I can't... become a shut-in, Nick. I have a life... a job. So how do I... stop being afraid?"
"Not all at once, I know that much. It's only been two days, buddy an' you've got deeper stuff to heal up than a few bruises. Don't rush it."
Slowly backing away, Greg watched Nick lower the shade again and blinked as his sight re-adjusted.
"Did somebody call? I thought I heard the phone."
"Denson. He's got you scheduled for a follow-up exam in less than a week."
"I can't even... look out the window for... more than a few seconds. I won't be ready."
"I told him that. He didn't listen too well."
"I know. His name really... fits him. He can... be pretty dense."
Nick laughed and strolled over to where Greg stood.
"Nice one, Greggo. The bag near the door's full of dirty clothes, I guess."
"The coin-op is... at the other end... of the complex. I got as far as... getting everything together... before I realized."
"It's okay. It'll get done."
"By imposing on.. my friends again." Greg retorted, his expression abruptly clouded with anger.
"You know damn well they don't see it that way, Greg. They wanna do what they can. It makes 'em feel good."
"Not so guilty... you mean."
"Greg." Nick stated simply, pulling the punch on the reproach in his tone, but not removing all of it. The younger man responded by drawing and releasing a deep breath and making himself calm down, though it took effort.
"I know. Sorry."
"It's okay." Nick reassured him, ruffling his hair lightly. "When you've been through this kinda thing, sometimes you get mad when there ain't a damn thing wrong. I said some really stupid, hurtful stuff to my folks... stuff I really regret now. The words just came out, usually at the worst possible time. Comes with the territory."
"Is this one of... those ' worse before... it gets better ' things?"
"Maybe. Everybody's different. You know... I've got a good friend... I'm sure she'd be willin' to come here and talk things out if you wanted to."
"No. No therapy. I don't... remember the attack... so what good... would it do?"
Nick looked at the ground, his forehead furrowed, and answered very quietly.
"You're not alone in that, Greggo. Like I said before, I've got some blanks of my own, but... I'm startin' to realize that sludge gets left behind even if the memory isn't there."
"Nick... I just can't. I'm sorry."
The Texan grimaced, silently cursed Catherine and finally looked up to meet Greg's eyes.
{Damn it, Cath... damn you for speakin' this idea where I could hear it. I can't believe I'm about to say this...}
"I'll make you a deal. You agree that Cynthia can come a couple hours a week... an' I'll do it too."
"What are you saying?"
"I never got any real help after... after the babysitter. How could I when I couldn't tell, anybody, right?"
"And your fall?"
"I talked to Phil once. Gris made me go. I convinced the both of 'em I was fine so boss man never made me go back. Now..."
"The nightmare. You want to... understand it?"
"Yeah. That... an' the other. I think I need to. Thing is if it's just me... I'll likely get pissed or scared an' quit before I ever find anything out. Maybe with you there... it'd work."
"Stronger together."
"We have been so far."
Greg stared at Nick, his eyes searching his friend's face intently. At last, he responded.
"Okay. Not this week... but okay. Just don't expect... any big miracles."
"No danger of that. I stopped believin' in those a long time ago."
"We're relatively sane... and we're both... still alive. That's two I know of." Greg replied, gently rumpling Nick's hair in return before he headed for the kitchen to warm up some soup.
"Huh. You just could be right, kid." Nick murmured to himself. "If we can find Sara and save her from herself... we'll make it a hat-trick."
-----------------------
12:30 A.M. : CSI HQ
"Gil?"
"Hmm? What?"
"Okay, enough. You've barely spoken to any of us since you went to see Greg. What's going on? Did he upset you, worry you..."
"None of the above."
"Then what? I mean... I know you can get quiet and introspective, but this is ridiculous."
"It went well. He's doing fine, he just... shocked me. He knew something was up with my hearing long before I went in for surgery. He started learning sign... so I'd have someone already in place who could understand me and could translate."
"Wait... you're saying he anticipated that you might use deafness as an excuse to isolate yourself more than you already do. My God... none of us know you that well. How does Greg rate the privilege?"
"He said he watches me."
"Like a stalker?"
"In a positive way. He looks up to me... claims me as a... shining example of sorts."
"Uh-huh." Catherine responded with mild skepticism. "Exactly how high is your pedestal?"
"I questioned him about that. I'm convinced he's got me just about at eye level. Maybe a little higher, but it's nothing to worry about."
"If you're sure. Wow... he really is a pretty amazing guy. If anyone's deserving of a little hero worship, it's Greg."
"I suggested that, but he brushed it aside. Still, we really should do something for him."
"Such as?"
"No parties. He's probably not up to being surrounded by people."
"Right. I wish I could give him his watch back."
Gil's face lit up like a chandelier.
"A replacement. That's perfect. I'll spring for it this time."
Catherine slowly caught Gil's drift and she also began to smile, but she added a reminder.
"He'll get the original back after the trial. I was just wishing he could have it *now*. How about something besides another watch?"
"Not too high end. Bugsy Siegel I'm not."
"Why don't I pass the hat instead? That'll give the whole lab the chance to feel like they're helping him recover."
"Not bad. Once we see what our final total is..."
"Then we go shopping."
Gil looked a little worried.
"I don't like the light that word puts in your eyes, Catherine."
"What can I say? Occasionally I have to surrender to the world of femininity or the Barbie fan club would ex-communicate me." she replied, striding away down the hall.
------------------------
McCARRAN AIRPORT: 1:15 A.M.
As they waited for their luggage to come around on the carousel, Jim Ellison slid one arm around his younger companion, supporting him and preventing him from falling. Blair Sandburg snuggled close and let his eyes slip closed.
"Hey, none of that. Hang on a little longer. I'll get you to the hotel as soon as possible, okay?"
"Sorry. It's just been a really long, stressful day."
"I know. Here they come..."
Pulling the bags off, he handed Blair his, forcing the other man to straighten and somewhat regain consciousness, but the minute they were in the cab, Blair's curly head dropped onto Jim's shoulder. Jim assumed he was dead to the world until he spoke softly.
"Dial it back when we get there, Jim. Casinos are all about noise and flashing light..."
"I know, Chief."
"I wish I could call Greg now... but it's too early in the morning."
"We'll get in touch when we wake up, I promise..."
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
TBC.......
