Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Note: This is set immediately after the conversation between Greg and Grissom in ItB. I
haven't done so much reading lately, so if anyone had something similar up already, my
apologies.
Greg could tell that what had been supposed to be an attempt to lighten up the conversation
had done nothing to take the tension out of the situation. If he had though he would be able to
convince Grissom that he was going to be fine just with a little half hearted humour. The truth
was that he himself did not belief his words. But whatever guilt he normally would have felt
about lying to his boss, was overridden by his fear. Fear of losing control, of losing face, of
losing the job he loved. Or at least the job he used to love. He still did loved it and couldn't
imagine wanting to do anything else. The problem was just that he wasn't able to do his job
properly anymore.
After Grissom had left him alone in the lab again, it was just getting worse. Maybe it was the
nervousness that the conversation had caused, the confirmation that others were noticing that
he wasn't up to his work anymore.
"Hey Greg, you done with that scarf yet? The question startled Greg. He had not seen
Warrick coming in having been too wrapped up in his thoughts.
"Ah, yes, sure" He handed Warrick the evidence bag.
"Thanks, man" Warrick looked at him, a slightly puzzled expression on his face, before he left.
Was he noticing it too? Or was it just his own paranoia? Greg didn't know what to think
anymore. He took a deep breath and told himself to relax. But to no avail. He had been telling
himself ever since he had gotten back to work to days ago. But it wasn't helping at all. After
yesterdays shift he had told himself that it would be better tomorrow. But that hope had not
been fulfilled. It was even worse today and on top of it all, seemed to get worse every minute.
He decided to take a short break. There had to be a way to get through the shift, he told
himself and pushed the thought of the days to come to the back of his mind, behind the door
labelled DENIAL.
The break room was not empty, much to his dismay. David Hodges were there, reading some
peer-reviewed journal. He looked up from his reading.
"Already on a break?" his tone was rife with mock sincerity.
Greg ignored him, forgoing his usual witty remark at Hodges bickering. The guy didn't seem
to be able to stand him, but that went for the majority of the people at the lab. All Hodges did
all day was plot how to make himself look good in front of Grissom. Greg would have loved to
go over and get a cup of his favourite drug, coffee, but for that he was going to need both
hands. What if Hodges noticed them shaking too? The first thing the man would do was run to
Grissom and tell him that he wasn't up to his job anymore. He tried to reason with himself,
telling himself that caffeine was a bad idea when nervous and that this was the reason why he
wasn't getting himself any coffee. But again, he didn't buy his own lies.
As he sat there, waiting, not sure what to do know, the realization started to creep up on him.
Slowly but surely. He could what was happening. He was denying that he had a problem and
he was trying to avoid a situation during which it would show. Being an educated and
intelligent person he knew that he was walking down a dangerous road. His rational mind also
told him that he had to face this, this being more than just trembling hands. The hands were
just the symptom, one of them actually. But there was more then just his rational mind; there
was also the part of him that was afraid to face the demons and whatever consequences
there were in store for him.
He had to decide somehow. He couldn't just carry on. He had seen today that this wasn't
working out. Not just for him on the inside, but also on the outside. The funny, light-hearted
facade already had cracks in it. And there were going to spread. But the consequences had
no brighter prospect to offer to him. Admitting that he was losing it, that he couldn't cope, what
was that saying about him?
If he wanted it or not, he was standing at a crossroads and either of the paths was going to be
painful. But maybe there was a third path?
Note2: Short, inspiration struck, I know I have another fic going. Just tell what you think.
Note: This is set immediately after the conversation between Greg and Grissom in ItB. I
haven't done so much reading lately, so if anyone had something similar up already, my
apologies.
Greg could tell that what had been supposed to be an attempt to lighten up the conversation
had done nothing to take the tension out of the situation. If he had though he would be able to
convince Grissom that he was going to be fine just with a little half hearted humour. The truth
was that he himself did not belief his words. But whatever guilt he normally would have felt
about lying to his boss, was overridden by his fear. Fear of losing control, of losing face, of
losing the job he loved. Or at least the job he used to love. He still did loved it and couldn't
imagine wanting to do anything else. The problem was just that he wasn't able to do his job
properly anymore.
After Grissom had left him alone in the lab again, it was just getting worse. Maybe it was the
nervousness that the conversation had caused, the confirmation that others were noticing that
he wasn't up to his work anymore.
"Hey Greg, you done with that scarf yet? The question startled Greg. He had not seen
Warrick coming in having been too wrapped up in his thoughts.
"Ah, yes, sure" He handed Warrick the evidence bag.
"Thanks, man" Warrick looked at him, a slightly puzzled expression on his face, before he left.
Was he noticing it too? Or was it just his own paranoia? Greg didn't know what to think
anymore. He took a deep breath and told himself to relax. But to no avail. He had been telling
himself ever since he had gotten back to work to days ago. But it wasn't helping at all. After
yesterdays shift he had told himself that it would be better tomorrow. But that hope had not
been fulfilled. It was even worse today and on top of it all, seemed to get worse every minute.
He decided to take a short break. There had to be a way to get through the shift, he told
himself and pushed the thought of the days to come to the back of his mind, behind the door
labelled DENIAL.
The break room was not empty, much to his dismay. David Hodges were there, reading some
peer-reviewed journal. He looked up from his reading.
"Already on a break?" his tone was rife with mock sincerity.
Greg ignored him, forgoing his usual witty remark at Hodges bickering. The guy didn't seem
to be able to stand him, but that went for the majority of the people at the lab. All Hodges did
all day was plot how to make himself look good in front of Grissom. Greg would have loved to
go over and get a cup of his favourite drug, coffee, but for that he was going to need both
hands. What if Hodges noticed them shaking too? The first thing the man would do was run to
Grissom and tell him that he wasn't up to his job anymore. He tried to reason with himself,
telling himself that caffeine was a bad idea when nervous and that this was the reason why he
wasn't getting himself any coffee. But again, he didn't buy his own lies.
As he sat there, waiting, not sure what to do know, the realization started to creep up on him.
Slowly but surely. He could what was happening. He was denying that he had a problem and
he was trying to avoid a situation during which it would show. Being an educated and
intelligent person he knew that he was walking down a dangerous road. His rational mind also
told him that he had to face this, this being more than just trembling hands. The hands were
just the symptom, one of them actually. But there was more then just his rational mind; there
was also the part of him that was afraid to face the demons and whatever consequences
there were in store for him.
He had to decide somehow. He couldn't just carry on. He had seen today that this wasn't
working out. Not just for him on the inside, but also on the outside. The funny, light-hearted
facade already had cracks in it. And there were going to spread. But the consequences had
no brighter prospect to offer to him. Admitting that he was losing it, that he couldn't cope, what
was that saying about him?
If he wanted it or not, he was standing at a crossroads and either of the paths was going to be
painful. But maybe there was a third path?
Note2: Short, inspiration struck, I know I have another fic going. Just tell what you think.
