Thanks for taking the time to read this. For those who don't already know, this is the sequel to: When we were young. I hope you enjoy. Please R&R.
Laura
Greg woke with a start, in his small apartment in Las Vegas. It took him a while before realizing where he was. Sweat dripped from his forehead, and his sheets were drenched as well. It had been a long time since he had dreamt about Rosie. Sweet Rosie. Tears stung his eyes as his mind flooded with thoughts of his sweet little girl. How her plump cheeks would bunch when she smiled, the sweetness of her laughter had been like honey to his ears. But that was all gone. That life, which had seemed like a dream and ages ago, was gone. His new life as a CSI seemed so dissimilar to the one he lived in Plainsworth. He shuddered to even think of the name. His home town was like a fog in his memory, it had taken him seven years to forget his past. He adopted a new demeanor. Making everyone at the Crime Lab believe he was a naive child. Someone who has experienced no such pain as he had. That way they would never ask. He had never told any of his co-workers about his past. It pained his heart to even think about it. Silent tears soaked Greg's face as her thought of Laura and the life they had. The love they shared. The days and nights of constantly being with each other...being there for each other. And in a flash it was gone. All that he knew, all that he loved had been taken from him. He was robbed of everything he loved. He was an empty shell without them...And he knew it. So he filled his life with death hoping to cope with the loss of Rosie and his soul mate...Laura. But in the end he only managed to push them out of his mind. It wasn't until he got into the field that it started to resurface. His first case with the death of a child had been heart shattering. See the infant lying on the autopsy table made him think of Rosie and how lovely she felt in his arms. He would kill to feel her again. To feel the warmth, the breathing of his little girl. To hear the laugh that was music to his ears. How his heart ached to hear the words that she never got to say...Dada. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he heaved loud sobs into his pillow. For once he didn't care that the walls to his apartment were paper thin, he didn't care that his cries to god were so loud that the neighbors were getting concerned, he didn't care that he began to throw lamps and picture frames around his apartment, hearing them shatter to the floor. Because that was how he felt. Broken. Greg was half a man. He wondered how Laura was. A flash of her at Rosie's grave brought on another fit of sorrow. He crumbled to the ground cursing god for destroying his life. Greg's weeping was like a flood. Years of concealing what had broken his life bottled up exploded on this night. His mind overflowed with thoughts he had forced from his mind long ago. In his anger and utter failure he smashed his fist into the ground several times until two of his fingers were broken and blood ran down his arm. But the pain was dull when compared to the memories that were brought up tonight, by a stupid dream. A dream that would ensure that his new life in Vegas would never be the same. In a zombie like state, he's made his way to the hospital and back just in time for work. Though he couldn't remember how he got there. Years of hiding his grief under a veil of false happiness had worn on him. And in one day he'd aged ten years. Looking himself in the mirror he realized how much he'd forced himself to change. The man his friends believed to be the Greg they knew was a stranger. He wondered how he was going to face another day at work, filled with death and despair and victims, just like his daughter...his beloved Rosie.
Some how he dragged his ragged body, unshaven and hopeless, to his car. But once he sat and buckled himself in, one word plagued his mind and played over and over like a skipping record...Dada.