Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
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THIRTY MINUTES LATER:
Emerging from the interrogation room, Gil found he could
barely pick up his feet. He was utterly exhausted, in a way he had
never experienced before. On a day several months back, when he
supposed he had been looking unusually tired, Greg had thrown out
something about people he called "psychic vampires". He'd said there
were certain people he'd met once and then avoided ever after because
they seemed to drain all of his energy and positive emotion away
simply by being in the same room. Grissom would not have used the
same term, but he was ready to believe in the existence of such
people, and more than ready to believe that Brett Sawyer was one.
He made it to his office, but just barely. He closed the door
by leaning against it and slowly slid to the floor, hands over his
face. Gradually strains of music began to fill his head. At first
they were an unrecognizable jumble, but as he focused, the mess
turned into "Amazing Grace". Desperate for anything that promised
renewed strength, he mentally brought the words in over the melody
and, little by little, felt his body responding to the comfort the
familiar tune offered.
When Jim knocked on his door a few minutes later, he was able to rise
and welcome his friend.
"Hi, Jim."
"Hey. You look like I feel."
"And vice-versa. Come on in." he said, closing the door after the
other man. Grissom moved behind his desk and dropped heavily into his
seat, Jim took the chair across from him.
"That... was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. No
interrogation ever took it out of me like that... I'm whipped."
"I think part of it was being forced to keep our emotions so tightly
under control. The rest... I think was Sawyer."
He explained Greg's theory about energy vampires. Brass grinned.
"Sounds like something the kid would come out with. It does make
sense though... in a way. I've known people like that. They walk into
a room and... zap! Over the course of a few minutes, everybody stops
laughing, talking... the whole place goes dead and you feel like you
have to step outside just to take a deep breath."
Grissom's eyes drifted to his stereo.
"Music is so powerful... I think I knew that before all this, but
it's just hitting me all over again. I came in here a little while
ago and... I couldn't stay on my feet. The only thing that made it
any better was when "Amazing Grace" popped into my head. The music..."
"I know. I keep thinking about what I picked to put on Sanders' CD...
when I'm at my lowest point, I go home and listen to it... and the
world's not such a crappy place anymore."
"What did you pick?"
"Heh... you'll never believe it. Nobody will when they find out. They
just won't make the connection...."
"Okay, now I have to know."
"Uhhh..."
The rest of the sentence came out a deliberate mumble. Gil smiled.
"One more time?"
Brass sighed and stared at his hands, but this time the name came out
clearly.
"Josh Groban."
Grissom raised an eyebrow but gave no real indication of shock or
distaste.
"He's one of the most amazing voices I've heard in years; this
generation's Caruso according to the industry insiders. What's so
embarrassing about knowing good music when you hear it?"
"I've got a rep..."
"Tough, cool under pressure, somebody no criminal or situation can
shake up?"
"In a nutshell."
"That used to be my image of myself. I'm finding it doesn't really
work for me anymore. It was a way of cutting myself off... distancing
when I should have been going deeper. I remember walking into a
victim's apartment a while back. Catherine called it a cave. There
was almost no variation in color, minimal furniture... the guy used
it as a place to sleep, eat and have sex, but not much more. At the
time, I didn't see anything wrong with that. I looked at my apartment
the other night... and suddenly I had a whole new perspective. Except
for the fact that I have an insect collection and not much nookie
goes on there, my place was basically the same as his."
"And the point of this impromptu episode of a decorating show is..."
"I have a rep, too. I'm seen as cold, indifferent and married to the
job. I push people away... lock my heart in a little steel box and
let everybody think what they like about my reasons. It's not enough
anymore."
"Gil... what are you trying to say?"
"That I need to make changes and God only gives us so much time. I'm
starting to realize that if I waste much more of it... there won't be
enough left to fix things." Grissom told him, standing and moving
toward the door. He paused to squeeze Jim's shoulder and reassure
himself about the case. "Sawyer... there's no doubt we've got him?"
"None."
"Greg might not have to testify?"
"Never a guarantee, but the odds are in his favor."
"Good. He needs everything on his side that we can give him. I'll see
you for shift tonight."
"Yeah..."
"Jim... promise me you'll think about what I said?"
"Huh? Oh.. oh, yeah. I promise."
"I forgot to ask what song of Groban's you picked. I have some idea.
There's one that fits Greg perfectly... "You Raise Me Up" ?"
"Nail on the head."
"Nice selection."
"As many times as he's made me laugh when I didn't think there was
one in me... I thought so too."
"Worth risking your reputation for?"
"It will be when the kid wakes up..."
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THE HOSPITAL:
"Nick, you of all people know the demon that survivor's guilt can be.
I understand why you're battling it right now, but in this case it
doesn't apply. You said it yourself earlier. There are two options
when you've been abused; get help or bury the memories. It isn't your
fault that Sara made the choice she did or that she was so good at
covering that none of us even guessed anything was wrong."
"It's not just a demon, Cath... it's a whole herd of 'em. Everything
you've been tellin' me makes sense. It's just so damn hard to let go
of the feelin' I coulda helped her if I'd seen it earlier..."
"She hasn't hopped a UFO to Neptune, Nicky. She's around somewhere
and when we find her we *will* help her. I've been thinking... if we
can talk Greg into outpatient therapy, the three of you could go
together."
"Me? Uh-uh. I don't need no shrink gettin' in my head and stirrin' up
the hornets. I dealt with happened to me a long time ago."
"I'm sure that's what Sara thought."
"Catherine..."
"When was the last time you had a date? How about the last time the
thought of getting intimate with somebody didn't make you sick to
your stomach?"
"Damn it, stop..." he ordered tensely, turning his face away from her
line of sight.
"If you won't do it for yourself, do it for him... so he doesn't feel
alone. You don't have to participate. If you get indirect benefit
from it, no big deal, but we have a better chance of Greg agreeing to
get help if there's at least one person there he trusts."
"God... I'll think about it, that's all."
"Thank you."
"Don't go pickin' out a card and flowers yet. I ain't made up my
mind."
"I just realized... you and Greg have something else in common. The
night you first told me about what happened to you, I think you said
you didn't remember the actual abuse... that the memory started
afterwards, when you were laying on your bed, staring at the ceiling."
Nick choked back a sob and cleared his throat before speaking.
"Yeah, well there's one big check mark in the "Hell No" column.
Greggo... the drugs wiped out the rape for him. He may never remember
everything. Me... I blocked my memory of that night. That means it's
still there... waitin' for me to come find it. If just knowin' it
happened has made me feel this bad all these years... I don't wanna
find out what havin' the details would do to me..."
"Like I said, you don't have to join in. Just being there would be
enough to make him feel safe."
"Maybe... I'll see, okay? Don't push... gimme time."
"You'll have plenty of that." Gil commented softly as he entered.
"What's that supposed to mean, boss?"
"Starting tomorrow night, you're on a medical leave of absence."
"What? How long?"
"A month."
"A month?! I can't take a month off. The doc this morning said this
hand'll be back to normal in a week, tops..."
"And I might have fallen for that if I hadn't spoken to him on my way
back in just now."
"Gris..."
"One month, Nick. No negotiation. You'll get the standard three-
quarter pay for all four weeks. Your little fit of pique has cost you
this week's wages, by the way. There's also a letter of reprimand in
your jacket."
"That's all? Man I thought I was at least gonna get my ass chewed."
"The punishment fit the offense in my view. I'm satisfied. Hodges, on
the other hand, is far from happy. Be prepared for a few sixth grade
stunts when you get back."
"You don't think he'll do anything worse?"
"He's not clever enough to be dangerous. If he tried anything more
serious than glue on your chair, he'd be the first and only victim."
"And five minutes after that he'd be out the door for good."
"To the delight of everyone on night shift." Catherine added.
"I'm sure."
"I gotta tell you the idea Sara and I cooked up. If I didn't know
it'd get us fired..."
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To Be Concluded.....
