Home of Greg Sanders Slash Fiction
Author: Eon Strata
Feedback: why not, [email protected]
Rating: R
Paring(s): No real pairings BUT the main cast of CSI
(just imagine the team got back together or
better yet never broke up)
Disclaimers: I don't make money (damn)
Summary: The truth is revealed from our characters
Warnings: Rated R by the Association of Eon's stories
because of strong language, mentions of sex (all
kinds, m/f, m/m and f/f), graphic descriptions of the
past, and multiple awkward silences. Plus mentions of
suicide, schizophrenia, prostitution, murder and rape.
We were all in the break room, it was a slow night. No
real crimes had been comitted, there was a robbery,
but the perp was caught. And then a death under
suspicious circumstances, but it was a hoax. So here
we all sat, Catherine, Nick, Warrick, Sara, Grissom
and me, the loveable Greg. None of us had spoken for a
little. That is when Catherine came up with a bright
idea, "Hey guys. We have worked together for many
years now, right? Well, we still don't know that much
about each other. So, since there is nothing to do
right now, let's all tell one thing that we have never
told anyone. It'll be fun."
A big awkward silence fell upon all of us.
Nick was the next one to open his mouth. "Alright, I
don't see why not. I'll go ahead and start.
Well...alright I have never told anyone this, but when
I was in college. I became suicidal. I cut myself with
a knife all the time. I actually cover the main scar
up with makeup, but its right here." Nick got a wet
napkin and wiped off some makeup, it was on his wrist,
across the arteries. "I slipped one night, and
actually hit my artery. If my parents weren't
hvisiting and didn't hear my scream, I wouldn't be
here today."
No one knew what to say, he used to be the perfect
Texan that could do no wrong and never did. Warrick
stirred, "When I was about twelve, I started to hear
things. My family was worried so they took me to a
shrink. The shrink diagnosed me with skitzophrenia. I
someties hear voices, but they are not as loud and I
can pretty much stop them now. But I stil have to take
meds for it."
Without skipping a beat Catherine decided to go. "My
secret is that when I was a stripper, I would
occasionally sell myself on the side. Then I was
caught one night and put in jail for a year for
prostitution. And the funny thing is, that the person
I was with, well SHE became my parole officer. Let's
just say that it was an easy year for me." All of us
were shocked, Catherine did not seem like the type
that would either sell herself, muchless sell herself
to women.
Gil just shook his head. "When I was twenty, I fell in
love. The first night we met, we had sex, and she
wound up pregnant. At my daughter's sixth birthday,
her mom, my love, kidnapped her and went away. The
cops didn't do anything and I haven't seen her since.
That is why I wanted to be a criminalist."
No one spoke for about five minutes, eyes just glanced
at me and Sara. Sara let out a big sigh. "When I was
in college, there was this one night when I was
wlaking home from one of my boyfriend's place and I
was attacked. I protected myself but I jammed my fist
into his nose, and his nose bone went up and a
fragment punctured into his brain. He died instantly.
I was on charge for murder and was aquitted on account
of self defense. But I always thought what would have
happened if I didn't his his nose." Now that Sara told
her secret, all ees were on me. I stood up and walked
over to the window. I looked up and saw the moon.
"I wish I could see the stars."
"Greggo, what about your secret?"
After a few minutes, I could feel their eyes staring a
hole in the back of my head. I pulled down my shirt a
little bit, exposing the back of my neck. "This scar
on my neck, it was when I was nine. I tried to hang
myself, and the scar on my wrist is from when I tried
to slice open my wrist later that year. Then on my
tenth birthday, I have a bullet in my leg because of
that day. All of these attempts to kill myself were
from the same reason...my dad. You see, I always talk
about Papa Olaf because I moved in with him after they
released my from the asylum after I turned twelve. I
never saw my dad after that, nor did I ever want to.
When I was eight, my mom died in a car accidnet, and
since my dad couldn't beat her anymore, his new target
was their only child...me. But he decided to give me
more psychological torture. Instead of beating me with
a bag filled with soap or metal objects...my
dad...he-" My voice broke. Tears streamed my face, all
eyes were on me. "My dad started to sexually abuse me.
It went on for a full year, I had to pretend that
nothing had changed, that he and I were sticking
together. When I was nine was when I first learned
about suicide, that is when I decided that that was
what was for me. After my multiple attempts, they
labeled me unsafe and put me in an asylum where I was
under constant watch. I, I never talked to my dad
after that. Then last year, I got a phone call from a
hospital, saying that he had died in a car accident. I
know the truth. He used the escape that my mom did,
they both died in a similar fashion, and they both did
it to get out of their lives. I didn't cry, I didn't
go to the funeral. But now, I have started to miss
him, and I wonder that if I ever have children would
it pass through my genes and I would hurt them?" I
felt every eye on me. I couldn't bear it anymore. I
couldn't hold myself up. I walked over and fell onto
the couch, and there I curled up into a ball and
sobbed silently to myself. "The only reason I got from
my dad that he did it, was that he claims that that is
what a gay child deserves."
That night, there in the break room, I sobbed out my
anger, my pain, my sorrow, my loss. I don't think I
have ever cried that much in my life. All anyone of
them could do was sit there, none of us spoke until
the next night. When we were all refreshed. We jsut
pretended that nothing ever happened. And that is the
way that we liked it.