Disclaimer: Seriously? I DON'T OWN CSI!
Gone.
The pain was more than anything he had felt before. It shot through his body like a rocket on steroids. His mind couldn't get past that initial shock, even though he could feel the pain increasing.
The blood was now soaking his hands, as he fell to the floor. The checkerboard linoleum was harder than he expected and somehow that frustrated him. His head hit the tiles, and he couldn't focus.
He could hear the scream that came from Sara's mouth, but he couldn't process what she had said. His vision had become blurry and he let his eyelids flutter closed. He tried to breathe through his agony, but it wasn't working.
Another shot rang out, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. He could feel the blood dripping down his hands, which were firmly pressed to the bullet wound in his stomach.
His blood was pumping out quicker than he could stop it and his breath came out in gasps. He could hear voices he knew, but he couldn't put them to faces, or anything at all.
And throughout this, one thought seemed to control his mind.
How the hell did I get here?
CSICSICSI
"Hey, G." Greg heard Nick say from near the doorway. The tired man didn't bother to look up, and instead kept his eyes on the crime scene pictures lying on the table.
"Hey." Greg mumbled tiredly.
"Got anywhere on the McCrery case?" The Texan asked Greg, moving to stand beside him and lean on the table with his hands.
Greg shook his head.
He and Nick had been working this case for days now, and it was going nowhere. The suspect had run, leaving no trace behind him. They had no fingerprints, suspect sightings, or evidence at all. Gunshots, but no gun. There was nothing.
"Nothing, nothing and more nothing." Greg said angrily, and looked up to meet Nick's eyes. The older CSI looked at him carefully for a minute.
"Damn Greg. You look exhausted. You should go home." Nick said, being as overprotective as ever.
Greg sighed and smirked. "Dude, I'm fine. We need the extra help." He said, but the look on Nick's face told him he didn't buy it.
"You need to go home man," Nick started, but Greg didn't let him finish. The lab needed him right now, and even though he never let it show, he was used to feeling like this.
"No." He said simply.
Nick chuckled. "Okay, fine. But go get some coffee."
Greg was going to object, but couldn't find the energy. So he turned around and walked out of the room, smirking at Nick as he went.
The halls of the crime lab were much quieter than usual, but Greg paid no attention to it. He walked slowly down the glass lined hallway, trying to wrap his mind around his case.
His feet tapped on the floor as he walked, watching reflections on the windows. They danced back and forth, chasing him like a game of tag. Nick must have been right, he had to be really tired to find reflections so hypnotizing.
He came upon the break room within a few steps, and walked through the door for the thousandth time. The familiar scents rushed to his nose and he took a quick once over of the room he had spent most of his time in over the last ten years.
It hadn't changed much actually. Sure they updated the furniture every few years and re-painted the walls, but for the team it remained the same. Memories flooded back to him of Grissom popping his head in the door like a gopher would out of it's hole, assigning them cases. Catherine joking with him about his chances with Sara. The memories would last forever and Greg knew he would never forget them.
A little late, the CSI realized he was standing in the middle of the room, doing nothing but staring at a team photo on the wall, one that included Grissom and Warrick. In his mind it wasn't really 'the team' without them included. He knew Warrick was gone, but the entire team longed for Grissom.
Snapping out of his trance, Greg went to the blue counter, and found his mug sitting in the corner, right where he left it. The whole lab knew that if you valued your life, you didn't get between Greg Sanders and his coffee.
He grabbed the pot and poured himself a steaming cup, the smell of his Blue Hawaiian coffee reaching his nose blissfully. He inhaled slowly, just enjoying the simplicity of that second. He'd been running around for days on end, and this might have been the first break he had gotten in 24 hours.
Then, regretfully, he started to walk back out of the room, he had basically lived in. He knew he needed to focus on his work right now. Then he could go home and sleep. Ironically, that was the thought that pushed him to walk at a normal pace, rather than glacially slow.
He walked back down the hallway, but was met by an excited Nick.
"Dude, I just got a call. We have a supposed witness, he's coming in now." The Texan said quickly and Greg beamed at him.
"Finally." Greg muttered, and sighed, hoping this stupid case would soon be finished. "When's he get here?"
Before Nick could say anything, they both heard raised voices from around the corner. With a concerned glance exchanged with Nick, Greg jogged down the hallway, his lack of energy forgotten.
He rounded the corner and froze in his tracks, causing Nick to bump into him from behind.
"I think that answers your question, G." He said quietly, but his voice was laced with distress.
CSICSICSI
Sara's heels clicked on the tiled floor as she walked down the hallway, still reading documents from her current case. The files cascaded out of her hands as she bumped into Catherine.
"Sorry, Cath." She said with a smile, bending down to collect the papers with Catherine chuckling beside her.
When she stood up, Catherine handed her a few loose documents. Behind her supervisor, she could see a man being escorted by a uni, looking like he was in deep thought. Sara paid little attention to him.
"I want you to go help Nick and Greg on their unsolvable case." Catherine told her, and smirked. The case had gotten that nickname last week, and it was now legendary. There were a few every year that earned names like that.
"Great. Hopefully we'll find some answers. The McCrery's deserve that much." She said and turned her back, walking to go find her practical brothers. She wanted to help them any chance she got.
The crime lab was pretty quiet today, and somehow that bugged her. But she brushed the thought off, knowing she was just psyching herself out.
But maybe she shouldn't have because it all happened so suddenly, her brain couldn't register it.
She heard the commotion beside her, and turned, but by then the man she had seen earlier had shoved a rookie cop into a wall, knocking him out.
Sara moved to grab her gun, but was stopped, as he was on her in seconds. He shoved his arm around her neck and she froze out of instinct. She didn't know if he had a weapon, but she moved her arm incredibly slow towards her gun holster.
But her attacker had a plan, because he ripped it off her belt and brought it towards her head. He clicked off the safety and Sara's heart froze over.
She'd been held hostage before, yes. It had been terrifying, mostly because Grissom had been there to watch. Sara wasn't one to back down or be anything near submissive, but the thought of her husband's terrified face stopped her from moving.
By now the entire lab was staring at her, even though only a few seconds had passed in the dimly lit hallway.
Catherine had just caught on, and had her gun aimed at the man's head instantly.
"Let her go now." She stated shortly, an animalistic tone to her command. Sara looked at her friend in the eyes, wishing with everything she had the man would back down.
But wishes don't come true. The man only tightened his grip on her neck, and she brought her slightly shaky hands up, to pull on his arm. She knew he was far too strong to get away from, but she just wanted to feel some kind of control.
"I said let her go!" Catherine raised her voice louder now, and stared at the man harshly, before looking at Sara. Her ice blue eyes had a motherly look in them, one Sara saw rarely.
"NO!" The man yelled near the CSI's ear, and she craned her head away involuntarily. But the gun remained hard onto her temple. "I can't."
"Yes you can." Catherine assured him, but her harsh and overpowering glare continued. She then went on to attempt to talk him out of the situation.
Sara didn't bother to listen, it was the usual 'you can get out of this' 'it's not the right thing to do' 'no need for it' type of stuff that all the CSIs had said before.
Instead, she found herself scanning the faces of the many watching people. The lab techs looked on in shock, not used to seeing things like this. Some were leaning away, worried for their own safety, and others peeked forwards, wanting to see more. She was surprised to see that Hodges had come out of his lab to see this, and his eyes showed something that would never be used to describe him. Caring. Concern.
But what made her breathing become forced was when she saw the absolutely terrified look on Greg's face. Nick was staring in shock behind him, but Sara found herself looking into Greg's brown eyes, feeling more emotion than she had in a long time.
He was breathing slowly, frozen on the spot. He looked like he wanted to run towards her, but something was stopping him. Like his feet were glued to the floor.
Sara's breath had become shaky and much louder than she wanted. The man seemed to notice and as she came out of her trance, she realized the hall had gone silent briefly. No one was talking. No one was moving.
And then a worried voice broke the air. "Mr. Daniels. Please, please let her go. You really don't want to do this." Nick spoke out worriedly, and looked at Sara. She stared back and didn't move.
"I said no! I can't, it's too late. It's too late now!" Mr. Daniels yelled once more and began to shake with anger. Sara was still pulling his arm off her, too scared to move.
It was amazing how much a little click could change the mood. The man cocked the gun with his thumb and Sara let out a small gasp.
Catherine's eyes widened, and her breath flew out suddenly. Nick hesitated, but his gun was out in a second. Sara saw Ray step out of the layout room, obviously having heard the entire conversation.
But Greg stepped forwards, and Sara's gun was pushed farther into her temple. He was shaking and she saw the extreme fear in his eyes.
Sara felt her muscles tighten, knowing he was making a mistake.
CSICSICSI
Greg stepped forwards shaking, unable to stop himself. His fear was beyond his capacity. Sara was like his sister. No, she was his sister. He couldn't take it.
"Please." He said weakly and looked into the angry man's green eyes. "Please don't do this."
Greg felt helpless. He didn't have gun, any leverage, or barely any hope. He had now frozen, just looking at his best friend being held by a crazy murderer. He knew he was making a mistake. But he just couldn't find enough sense to care.
"I told you no!" Mr. Daniels yelled and moved his gun to point at Greg. He knew what was coming. It was inevitable and ignoring his instincts, he didn't move.
And then the shot rang out, echoing through the air like a nuclear bomb.
The pain was more than anything he had felt before. It shot through his body like a rocket on steroids. His mind couldn't get past that initial shock, even though he could feel the pain increasing.
The blood was now soaking his hands, as he fell to the floor. The checkerboard linoleum was harder than he expected and somehow that frustrated him. His head hit the tiles, and he couldn't focus.
He could hear the scream that came from Sara's mouth, but he couldn't process what she had said. His vision had become blurry and he let his eyelids flutter closed. He tried to breathe through his agony, but it wasn't working.
Another shot rang out, but he couldn't bring himself to open his eyes. He could feel the blood dripping down his hands, which were firmly pressed to the bullet wound in his stomach.
His blood was pumping out quicker than he could stop it and his breath came out in gasps. He could hear voices he knew, but he couldn't put them to faces, or anything at all.
Hands were on him, and he recognized Sara's shaky fingers over his, applying pressure. He could tell she was scared, she had always had a shaking problem. Greg wondered how he could think about these things, during such a terrifying moment, but he had no energy to figure it out.
He could feel his head clearing slightly, despite his extreme pain. Now he could make out the voices, and even what they were saying. He could hear Sara and Catherine crying, and he realized they were both directly over him. Nick was asking questions, mostly ones with no answers. But his voice was strained and Greg wondered if he was crying too.
"Greg," Sara said between forced breaths. "Greg can you hear me?"
Greg could barely breathe through his agony, but somehow he forced out a barely audible "Yes."
The pain increased suddenly, and his eyes fluttered open in shock, the light blinding him. It was terrifying and agonizing and... more than anything he'd ever experienced before. It felt like someone was pushing a branding iron to his stomach, stabbing him a million times a second, all while his torso was on fire. To say he was speechless was an understatement.
"Greg hold on. The ambulances are coming, you have to hold on for me." Catherine coached him, her tears mixing with his blood. He watched through half shut eyes as she grabbed his arm, wanting to do more, but coming up with nothing.
He managed to nod, but nothing more, as he was now feeling faint. He was losing too much blood, and he knew it. Everyone knew it, but nobody could find the guts to say it. His head was feeling more airy by the second, and he was beginning to fear the unknown.
Greg wasn't someone who usually feared death, but he was so close to it that he just couldn't imagine. How would the team be without him? His friends, no, family, were a part of him. The feeling must be the same for them. Would they cope? Imagining the situation reversed, he knew he wouldn't.
His breath was ragged now, and the lights above him were mixing in strange ways. He looked over at Nick, who was on his knees beside Greg, eyes red and watery.
Nick noticed his pained stare and sighed before letting a sob escape. "Hold on Greg. Just hold on, man."
But Greg shook his head a miniscule amount. It hurt, he knew what he was doing to the team, but he couldn't hang on much longer. Everything was fading.
Nick let more tears escape. "You have to G. You're not supposed to die."
"Can't." Greg forced out, barely audible. But Sara suddenly let her own sob escape, her mascara running down her pink cheek.
"No, Greg. Just stay with me." Sara whispered, pushing harder on his bullet wound. He flinched. His blood was now covering her small hands, and caked on her long sleeved blouse.
"There's...too much...blood." He said between breaths. The hurt in her eyes was indescribable. "We all know...it."
Catherine's latest tears fell on his shoulder, and he saw his vision blur. At first he thought he was going, but he soon realized he was crying. Crying like he'd never cried before. These tears were soft and accepting, formed out of pure sadness.
"Greg, they're almost here." Ray said from above, talking for the first time. His eyes were watery, but no tears had escaped. Greg hadn't expected them too, Ray never cried. It just wasn't him.
By now the corners of his vision had blackened in a fuzzy frame. The lights above were moving and becoming layers of colours he'd never seen before. He couldn't describe it even in his head, these colours had no name.
Greg all of a sudden felt tired. Exhausted in every way. He let his eyelids slide closed, but his breathing continued painfully. Every breath set his lungs on fire, over and over again. He just wanted it to finish. To come to it's end, for him to be done.
"Greg, no." Sara blurted out, finally coming to the realisation that the paramedics wouldn't get there in time. Greg was going, and she couldn't stop it.
Greg knew it was time, and he wasn't lasting. The energy was draining out of him, along with his life. He lost too much blood, ironically, the one thing he had hated most about his job. Maybe this was the universes way of saying 'be careful what you wish for'.
"Bye." He pushed out, taking up every ounce of his energy. He just had to say it, it wasn't Greg Sanders way to leave silently. But honestly, he was happy to go peacefully, and happily. He was going to leave with death, hand in hand.
"No, you can't leave us!" Nick said angrily, but Greg didn't open his eyes. He felt pain for Nick and forced out some comfort.
"You guys'll be fine." His voice cracked and became distant. He could feel himself fading.
The entire team was crying above him, but somehow it made him smile on the inside. He was loved. He'd always worried about not being cared about, but he knew he was. And that made him happy.
He realized his senses were gone, he had no feeling. He no longer felt the pain. He no longer felt his family's hands, or even his own ragged breathing. But somehow he didn't care.
And he was going. He was floating on air, on nothingness. It was a beautiful thing, to feel nothing. To do nothing.
And as he did, he remembered something very, very clearly, despite it's odd nature. One day, when he had become a CSI, Grissom had told him something. Something he had forgotten until now. "The hearing is the last to go."
"No. No, Greg. No!" Catherine cried out as he let go. Let go of everything holding him to himself.
And so he floated into black, eternal nothingness, sad, but happy.
And the last thing he heard, before he drifted away, made the heart he couldn't even feel, warm with pride.
"We love you Greg."
CSICSICSI
"No. No, Greg. No!" Catherine basically shouted, gripping him so tightly her hands were white.
But Greg's body was empty as he took a ragged, painful breath. Sara felt her own chest pain. Pain with sadness. Pain with fear. Pain with everything she had left.
"We love you Greg." She said, as a final, but worthless attempt to bring him back. She saw him take his final shaky breath, before his body became still.
Her emotions hit her at once, more than a person could handle. She cried out loudly falling off her knees, her hands slipping from the fatal bullet wound on the young CSI's cold stomach. The blood dripped off her hands, spattering on the floor.
She collapsed suddenly, grief consuming her. Somehow, she was aware of Nick's arms around her, his own tears falling on her brown hair. She shuddered against him, the loss of her best friend making her lose her own will to live.
But her body did what Greg's couldn't, and continued to breath, pump blood from her heart and keep her alive. Why hadn't Greg's? The man had done nothing wrong. He was perfect. Just perfect.
She grabbed Greg's hand, knowing he was gone, but not handling it. She gripped it tightly, hoping stupidly that he could feel it in heaven. Because she knew he was there.
Catherine's hands were over her mouth, her ice blue eyes like waterfalls. Her wispy strawberry blonde hair was tucked behind her ears, but it soon fell to cover her now blotchy face.
Even Ray was crying, something nobody had seen before. He sank to the ground, his knees hitting the tiles hard. Even Ray had known it was too late. Even the doctor, who supposedly saved lives couldn't this time. Sara had to stop her thoughts, before she began to blame Ray.
Sara let herself cry until she was out of tears. Nobody moved.
The paramedics arrived, but left before even touching Greg. Brass arrived and let his own tears slide over his tough face. The lab techs sobbed on each other's shoulders. Time passed like it always did, but nobody acknowledged it.
Because nobody wanted to. With Greg gone, the world seemed empty. It was cold and dark. Sara still expected him to walk around the corner beaming, tossing something at Nick, or laughing with Catherine.
These thoughts forced seemingly impossible tears out Sara's no doubt, now puffy red eyes. Her sorrow consumed her.
The light in the windows turned from night to day, but still, nobody moved. Sara noticed the coroners take Greg's body, because the movement made his hand slip from hers. She was still on the ground, Nick holding her firmly. Catherine still sat against Ray, her makeup completely washed away.
She didn't know how long they sat there, but it must have been at least a day. But nobody cared because Greg was gone. Sweet and funny Greg wouldn't joke around anymore. He wouldn't talk about his latest date, the late night TV he watched, or even his nightmares about the beating. Because he was gone.
Greg was gone.
And nothing seemed to matter anymore.
The end.
Liked it? I know, how could I kill Greg? The sacrilege! He was supposed to survive, but this took on a life of its own. Please review, it would mean alot. Thank you. R.I.P. fictional Greg