Do you believe in second chances?
A CSI: Las Vegas Fan Fiction.

Paring: Gil Grissom/Greg Sanders

Warnings: m/m Sex, abuse, mention of child abuse, language,
(S&M, Bondage, BDSM)

Gen; Angst, Hurt/comfort Story

Summary:
Greg has an abusive boyfriend, and a case hits close to home for Greg.
What will happen when Grissom fines out?

Written By S. Andersen

First CSI: Las Vegas Fiction

Now been Beta by the lovely CarrotMuffin, Thanks you so much

Chapter One: Broken, Beaten and Bleeding.

DNA Lab

Greg was just finish processing the evidence from the case Grissom was working on, when the man himself walked in.

"Greg?" Grissom asked, noting the lack of Marilyn Manson blasting out of the CD player. 'A nice change.' Gil thought to himself.

"Blood form the victim's shirt matches the father's DNA that you collected from him."

"So, the father was abusing his son, and when the son started to stand up to him, he ended up beaten to death."

Gil looked over the results one more time before walking out.

Greg patted his own shoulder. "Good job Greg" and started to clear away the evidence for lock up. His shift had already been over for three hours. Man, he was going to hear it when he got home.
Maybe he just could… No, telling someone would just make it worse- like he wasn't in deep enough water already.

Grissom's Office

Grissom sat at the desk looking over the case. The victim was 15 year old Scott Martin; beaten for the last 8 years, and now to death- all because his father had caught him with another boy.
In the last interview the man had made it clear to Brass, and himself that no son of his was going to be a queer.
Grissom put the evidence back in the box, to start on the paper work- another long night.

‑­

Greg's apartment

"Greg!" A voice shot trough the little place. "You are four hours late! Where the hell have you been?!" and before Greg had the chance to respond, the back of a hand hit him, and he stumbled backwards into the wall.

"You have been out with a girl haven't you… You cheater!" The voice rang through the apartment.
Another blow this time right in his gut, and everything went black.

Locker room, 2 days later

Greg was sitting on one of the benches in the locker room. He was stiff and in pain after been tied to his bed for the past two days. Being whipped until the skin on his back broke, and the blood started pouring from his veins. His butt had been fucked through the mattress a numbers of times, hard and dry. Sometimes the pain was too much to stand and he passed out. Other times Mark was too tired of hearing him beg to stop and just left him there.
That was the time Greg prayed to God that he should have killed him in the lab explosion six months ago.

He shook his head, and tried to stand up, but fell back on the bench. He tried again, but with the same result.
A warm hand landed on his shoulder, and Greg stiffened, waiting for the blow that never came to strike hard. But instead his shirt was lifted up, and a soft voice filled with concern spoke to him.

"Greg? What have happen to your back?" his boss.

"No-nothing, I just fell off the ladder helping some friends."

"Hmm? You help these "friends" a lot Greg? I saw you last month too; you couldn't lift your arms over your shoulders."

"It's nothing Grissom." Greg started.

"That's not what the evidence says." Grissom stole a glance at the clock "We will talk after shift in my office."

"And if I don't want to?" Greg challenged him.

"Then you can clean out your locker, and say goodbye to the lab." Grissom said matter-of-factly, before pulling the shirt back down to cover everything up again.