Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or Lord of the Rings/Silmarillion/Anything in that universe. This story was written purely for entertainment.
Summary: COMPLETE. When Greg Sanders kills a young boy defending another man, he is wrought with guilt and gravely injured. Greg, however, isn't all that he seems to be, and sometimes one accident is all that it takes to reveal a secret. CSI/LOTR Greg centric with a bit of Grissom. AU, One-shot. This takes place immediately following the episode "Fannywhacking."
I haven't written anything in… a while. And I'm more than a little bit afraid to return to my older fics, since I do things in a lot of them that I can't stand to read. Think of this as a brand new return to FFN.
-Authors note at the end of the story, for spoiler's sake.
He had killed someone. Killed a human.
And he wasn't sure if he could live with it.
He'd been back at work for a week, now. His skin was still discolored where the punk's shoes had connected with his face, but they were healing remarkably fast. The doctors called it a miracle- said that it was a miracle that he was even alive, and his remarkable recovery, well…
A miracle? Sometimes, when the days got long, and he was burdened down by memory, it was more of a curse.
And now he was brooding. Great. Brooding.
And someone had seen him. A hand tapped him on the shoulder. Christ, how did I miss him coming? He tensed, and whirled, to find an aging man standing behind him, hands carefully held in the air in a gesture of innocence and non-aggression. It took him a moment to identify the man as his employer. Gil Grissom.
His boss spoke, "Sorry… I didn't mean to startle you."
"It's alright." He paused, "I should have heard you coming."Stupid, stupid. Why didn't I hear him?
"No, you shouldn't have."
"Pardon?"
"You shouldn't have heard me coming. Should you?" Grissom raised an eyebrow.
"Umm… I should have grown eyes in the back of my head?"
No response.
Greg sighed, "Bad answer. Right. Um… sorry. I'm a bit jumpy since, well… And… the fluorescents have been giving me a headache, with the injuries…"
A slight smile, or maybe a pursing of lips, "It's alright. Do you mind if we have a talk?"
Yes, I do mind. "No. I don't mind."
"Good." Grissom looked awkward. As Greg recalled, staff relations had never been his strong point. "Ah… In my office, then."
As Greg stepped through the office the harsh fluorescents of the hallway dimmed to the cool, natural light of Grissom's office. Greg's headache backed off a bit.
"Have a seat." The comment left no room for protest.
Greg sat. A clock ticked in the corner of the room, counting off seconds. Seconds, minutes… eons. What were a few more seconds?
Grisson slid in to his chair, hands resting on the desk in front of him, fingertips just touching. It put Greg in mind of someone else- dark hair, severe eyes, lengthy frame. Certainly, there was no physical resemblance, but so many times, on occasions like this, those severe eyes would stare at him across the desk, and the fingers would steeple just so-
"Greg?" Concern was written all over Grissom's face.
"What?" He needed to get home, to rest. Call up his brother…
"I asked you if you were alright."
"Oh. Yes. Yes, I am. Fine, that is. Yep. That's me, Mr Fine-y McFine-erson…"
"Greg?"
"Yes?"
"You're a terrible liar."
Greg resisted the urge to snort. If only he knew…
The fingers steepled again. "Look, Greg- I'll understand if you want to take a week off, or so… Visit family… I know you didn't want to contact them about your injuries, but-"
Greg cut him off. "No. No. Actually, that sounds nice. I… I thought about what you said. Reconnecting. I'd like that."
Grissom smiled slightly, and reached for the phone. "I can contact them in advance, if you'd like me-"
"NO! No. Umm… no. That won't be necessary." The headache was back now. He couldn't deal with this. Damn, he should have stayed in lab work. Of course, that wasn't entirely without risks, either…
A beaker. An explosion. Flying across the room, shielding his face, his eyes… Fearing for his life, and thinking of how unusual it would be to die that way, not in combat, but in a freak accident…The injuries hadn't been severe enough for the doctors to take any tests that might have been revealing, but it had taken months of meticulously erasing files after that to make absolutely sure that his trail was covered.
"Yes." Greg said with finality, "I'll tell them. But… good idea. I need them, right now." He needed them, so badly. And his brother… What would he think? Probably that it's fine. Probably that I did the right thing.
But it felt so… horrible. And he had gone so long without killing. It wasn't like killing in a war. It wasn't like taking down an assassin. It wasn't like an orc. This was someone young, someone who could change. Someone who could love. Someone who's family had loved him. Someone impossibly human.
Orc. That had been Greg's first thought when he saw those eyes white eyes. Not Orc, exactly, but demon. Not human. Too many years of fighting the inhuman had forced his instincts. He hadn't even considered colored lenses- lenses like the ones he himself wore. Of course, the college student wasn't a demon. Of course, the lenses were fakes.
Greg turned to leave, but Grissom gently put a hand on his shoulder. "It wasn't your fault, you know."
"Hmm?" Greg started.
"It wasn't your fault. There was no other possible course that you could have taken."
"Maybe if I'd…"
"No. There wasn't any other way."
"If I'd stopped sooner, maybe he would have…"
"Lived?" Grissom finished for him, "And maybe then he would have gone on to smash your head in, or kill the man you worked to save."
Greg sighed, "I know…"
"To be honest, Greg," Ah. This was the awkward Grisson Greg had come to know, "I guess… I'm proud? Yes. I'm proud of you. You saved someone's life, and risked your own. You showed selflessness that I have come to expect from few. In this job you tend to human beings at their very worse. That night, you showed a human being at his very best."
Not exactly human, but… still… The point stood. Greg turned to leave the room once again, but then stopped, this time of his own accord.
His boss' head was bent down to the table, glancing over some paperwork. Grissom was probably trying to give Greg some privacy as he left. He still walked with a slight limp.
"Grissom?"
Grissom raised his head, and their eyes met. "Yes, Greg?"
"Thanks."
Greg left, this time. He didn't turn around, but he still heard Grissom call after him, "I'll see you in a week."
Greg smiled to himself. He would, too. Elrohir, son of Elrond Peredhil always kept his appointments.
-1-1-1-1-
Gil Grissom frowned as the door to his office closed. Greg was getting sloppy- he had forgotten to put in his colored contacts that day, and his roots were showing ever so slightly. Most people wouldn't have noticed- it wasn't that obvious- but Gil…
He'd let it slide, though. It wasn't Gil's business, certainly, and the hair dye and colored lenses were most likely just preference… though the brown eye color that they had on their data base for identification certainly didn't match Greg's natural grey, and to make tinted lenses that good… The dye job, too, was fantastic. If Greg hadn't spent a week in the hospital, Gil never would have noticed the new roots showing through.
Greg Sanders had a secret, but Gil Grissom would let him live with it. Everyone had their secrets and their demons- it was only fair that the ex-labrat should have his.
His eyes returned to the papers on his desk. One showed the results from a blood test- Greg Sanders' blood test- taken when he had been injured in the lab explosion. O-. Though the results were rare, they weren't abnormal. The second paper, however…
There were simply no results. No O-, no DNA. Nothing. Blank.
Gil sent out a quick e-mail to the hospital, telling them to have their machine checked. If he had lost Greg because a stupid blood test hadn't gone through…
It was too much to think about.
As an afterthought, Gil sent out another e-mail, asking them to re-run Greg's blood with a different machine.
The next day, when the hospital's reply told Gil that Greg's blood had gone missing, Gil began to dig.
-Fin
AN:
Please excuse the italics abuse.
Let me know how the characterization is. I don't write Greg, Gil or either of the twins much. Trying to combine characters… not fun. As a general rule, I hate fics like that: "Harry Potter is secretly Legolas Greenleaf, Elf Hunter extraordinaire, and he uses his SUPERMAGICAL SUPERHARRY ABILITIES…" You get the idea.
In the event that you're incredibly thick, (or in the event that I'm just incredibly vague) Greg Sanders is secretly Elrohir. The 'brother' that is referred to throughout the story is Elladan. Greg doesn't want Grissom to call his family because, of course, his only family on Earth is his brother, though his fake ID shows a mother, a father, etc.
I'm following Tolkein canon- that Elladan and Elrohir stayed behind, with Glorfindel to keep an eye on them, and taking it a step further, saying that after all these years, they STILL haven't sailed.
As for the ears- let's just say that our darling Elrohir uses some VERY good prosthetics to cover it up. So good that the CSI's somehow don't notice it (though, as the ending reveals, at least ONE of them knows something.)
I hope that the constant use of 'he' at the beginning isn't too confusing. "He told him that if he told him to go to see him than he would tell him about him and play with him." I was going to refer to Greg as "he" until the last sentence, when I said "Elrohir," but I decided that might be a little bit too hard to follow.
If interest is shown, I might write a sequel, full-length and all that what. I've got most of the plotline outlined, but this particular plunny has been floating around in my head for ages now. I just… had to get it out there. Anyway, the ideas for a full-length story exist, but I make no guarantees. The only characters would be Elladan, Elrohir, Glorfindel, and possibly Gandalf- no modern-day reincarnation bits (though there are some FANTASTIC ones out there). It's just straight-up Elves adapting to the modern world stuff.