Angel

EvelMyst
Rating: PG-to-R-ish (Will vary from Chapter to Chapter)
Warnings: Character Death sort of…& Some violence (Not much)
Genre: AU/Romance/whatever you want...
Summary: Regarded as one of the smartest people in Europe, Dr. Gregory Sanders was destined to make the single largest scientific breakthrough of all man-kind. That was until Death made the single biggest mistake of all time. With the fate of humanity on the line, Death is forced to give Greg an existence after death in order to save all humanity.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, or likeness of characters from CBS's hit dramatic Televsion show, CSI.
Chapter One: Repercussions of Murder
(June 28, 1914)

The day the Archduke Franz Ferdinand was shot was just an ordinary day for Dr. Gregory Sanders. However, it would be a day that he wouldn't soon forget.

It just so happened on that day, two military colonels arrived at Greg's laboratory. Both carried their side arms predominately over their hips and both with equally stern expressions on their face.

The day was dreary with a light drizzle all day long. This was the highlight of Greg's day, as when he arrived at the lab only thirty minutes behind schedule having been held up by his son who had taken sick with fever only the night before. He arrived and ran to the incubator where he arrived nearly too late to salvage his experiment.

Even though he was able to record the results of his experiment they proved inconclusive. Another attempt at his vaccine went down the drain. It was during this latest temper tantrum that he saw the two well-dressed men adorning his doorway.

"May I help you?" Greg asked with some amount of bitterness in his voice.

"Do you know where we can find Dr. Gregory Sanders?" the officer replied.

"I am Dr. Gregory Sanders." Greg replied uncertainly.

If there was one thing his papa Olaf instilled upon him before he left for the laboratory in London was to be cautious of the military and governments. They were not to be trusted.

Greg never wanted to go to London. He would've much preferred to work in a laboratory closer to home, but this one was the best in the world and for a scientist as well renowned as he was, that was the only place to be. He didn't complain about it though, he just accepted it for what it was and dealt with the misery that surrounded London.

"Dr. Sanders, it is requested that you come with us."

"Excuse me, but I'm not going anywhere with you." Greg turned back to his microscope and pretended to have found something of a great interest to him.

The lead officer nodded to his partner who promptly walked to Greg, taking him by the upper arms and pulled him away from the microscope.

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice, Dr. Sanders. His majesty requests you to help our troops' effort in France." The military officer stated. "I trust that you have not forgotten your agreement with the king."

"I haven't forgotten my agreements." Greg assured the men.

"Good, then you will come willingly."

"I will come when and if Britain ever goes into war, as was the terms of my agreement. But I have heard no declaration against this country, so as far as I'm aware I am still a free man." Confidence was always one of Greg's strong suites. It was something he prided himself on.

"Have you not heard? The Archduke of Austria-Hungary was murdered today on his way to an inspection. War has been declared. Or perhaps your focus has been a little too far down your microscope to realize the events of the day." The officer stated coldly and with confidence.

Greg was not inclined to budge a single muscle until he got formal word from the king himself that war had been declared. This wouldn't be the first time trespassers attempted to break into his laboratory to sneak a peak at his results. So, he was not about to move without formal notification from his majesty himself.

The military officer quickly realized this and passed him the king's official document confirming that war was officially declared. Greg quickly read it and then reread it several times. Each time, not believing what he was reading. Several more times he read it and gulped at the words the parchment clearly spoke under the king's seal.

For years now he prayed that this would never come to pass, and now he found that he would be forced to abandon his experiments for now in exchange for working antidotes to German poisons and new poisons to use on the Germans. It was the last job that Greg ever wanted to do. Yet it was that very job that he was being forced into by his majesty the king.

The two military men escorted him to the car and ordered him in. Greg would have loved to protest, but the men had guns at their disposal, and what did Greg have? A few fountain pens, a white lab coat, and a few bucks in his pocket. He had nothing that could compare with the power of the gun. So he slid in the car destined for a place he never wanted to go.

It wasn't a long journey across the channel to Holland, but to Greg it felt like it had taken forever. He felt as though he were being drug into slavery. It was the worst day in his life.

Holland wasn't much better when he got there. Sure, it was a beautiful country, but it wasn't home where he wanted to go. He demanded to see his wife Emma and his month-old son Trevor before he left, but the two officers would not allow that. They said it was better like that.

Between the British officers, they arrived in a luxurious hotel where they reserved a room for the night. It would have been a beautiful place to visit if the circumstances were different, he would have enjoyed this little trip. Inside his room, Greg sat on the chair and looked out the eastern window trying to imagine the enemy stirring in the east. He wondered if they were really as bad as everyone said they were. To Greg, they were just as human as he was. They too had families, and jobs they would prefer to be doing other than fighting them. And for what were they fighting for anyways? The Archduke was murdered. Why does his death lead them to war?

The night passed difficultly for Greg. He found himself dwelling on these questions and tormented by his inability to find the answers. If that wasn't enough, his mind continuously drifted back to his failed experiment. It was there in the wee hours in the morning that he discovered the flaw in his experiment. Unfortunately, he could no longer continue his work on the vaccine. No, he had to create antidotes for the British Army and new chemical weapons for them to hinder the Germans with. Greg found it the cruelest form of science imaginable.

By the next morning, Greg had barely any sleep. The sleep he did get was filled with the unanswered questions and the senselessness of war.

"Come on, let's go," the military officers ordered him. When he refused to roll out of bed, the younger of the two pulled him out and forced him into his clothes. "You will do as you are told." They commanded and Greg wearily nodded.

It was raining outside, but that didn't seem to make a difference to these men. Greg placed the bowler cap upon his head and walked out behind the well-dressed military men.

"You will be stationed in a make shift laboratory in central Luxemburg. They are a neutral country, but that does not mean that you shouldn't watch your step. You can be assured that there will be enemies all around you. We cannot guarantee your safety outside the lab. So I would advice against leaving." With that good advice tucked away in Greg's head, they left for the two hour drive down to the tiny European country.

They drove out to a remote place surrounded by hills. The nearest town was a few kilometers away nestled peacefully. Greg wondered to himself why they would drive him to the middle of nowhere to do his scientific exploration, but did not question them on it. He followed them in the valley of the hills until they came to a small creek at the lowest point of the hills. It was surrounded by thick trees and low-lying shrubs filled with brambles. They fought their way past it as they walked the creek which seemed to disappear behind a hill. The officer pulled the branches back to reveal the tiny mouth of a cave and ordered Greg in.

Now, Greg understood why they drove him to the middle of nowhere. The laboratory had to be hidden. Of course it occurred to him this was set up before the assassination of the Archduke. The officials must have known this was on the horizon, though hoped it would never come. Anyways, Greg always knew if he would be bound to his agreement his work would have to remain top secret.

The tunnels under the hills descended several feet through narrow stairwells carved into the ground. The ambient temperature dropped the further they went and Greg began to wish he had more than just a white flimsy lab coat to keep his body heat. Finally, after several flights of stairs they reached the bottom of the staircase. They kept going until they reached a series of metal doors each with locked handles.

Greg's military escort knocked on the second door to the left and waited. The small flap slid open and two blue eyes appeared through the tiny slot within the door. "Password?" the man asked.

"Jolly good," Greg's escort answered confidently. The lock clicked open and the man quickly opened the door and closed the door. The room was dreary and no less comforting than the dank basement of someone's ill-kept house. In the center of the room sat a massive wood table surrounded by metal chairs. A collection of men had already gathered around the table some of which looked at Greg with a certain amount of awe.

Greg was quite used to this by now. His reputation often precedes him. Though, he wouldn't expect anything less. After all, he was a child genius who rose through the educational ranks very quickly and acquiring his doctorate by the time he turned nineteen. At twenty, Greg had landed a job at London's top laboratory where he was expected to produce the world's greatest scientific discoveries. Nothing less than extraordinary was expected from the young doctor and that was why he was recruited for this job.

"I would like to introduce you to Dr. Gregory Sanders." His escort introduced him to the gathered men.

"Yes, of course, I would recognize you from anywhere." The man sitting at the head table replied immediately. "Come, take a seat, we have much to discuss."

Slowly, Greg made his way to the large rectangular table and took a seat next to the table's head.

"You may go now, conduct your war," he informed Greg's military escorts who nodded and left the room promptly. "It is good to meet you Dr. Sanders."

"Please, call me Greg." The young man requested. He always found it horribly formal when people would refer to him as doctor. Sure he had earned the right to be called doctor if he so wished, but it is also by his own choice that he will be called such.

"Very well, Greg. I am Dr. Henry Flemming, it will be a pleasure working with you." He extended his hand. Reluctantly, Greg accepted Dr. Flemming's outstretched hand, shaking it with a loosely held grip.

"I wish we could be working together on better conditions," Greg answered. He had always dreamt of working with Dr. Flemming. He heard that he was an extraordinary doctor and he was eager to see his techniques.

"As do I."

Dr. Henry Flemming was different than how Greg imagined. He wasn't nearly as tall as the thought. In fact, Dr. Flemming seemed to have a physical build comparable with his own. He was too, tall and lanky. A gangly person if he ever saw one. Despite that, he had a very distinguished appearance. His hair was a faded dark brown highlighted with bits of silver that he kept well groomed. He wore spectacles around his aged eyes framed with wrinkles. Upon his upper lip, a thick silver and black mustache neatly trimmed. He wore a well-pressed suit with a silken red handkerchief in the upper pocket.

"I've heard a bit about your research. I must say that I'm quite intrigued by some of the results that you've put out. Do you really think you will find a vaccine for the common cold?" inquired Flemming with some amount of interest.

"I believe I am on the right track to finding one." Greg answered carefully. One thing he learned quite early was to be weary on who he trusted with sensitive information. This was his project and he would not have another brilliant scientist stealing all the hard work he had put in it. He took every precaution to prevent such thieving, even to the point of writing his notes in a numeric code, which only he could decipher.

A few more people joined the gathering moments later and the meeting was officially on. It was just the same as any meeting Greg had ever been to. Henry Flemming spent a great deal of time jabbering at the people sitting around the table forbidding any from leaving without MP protection or without explicit orders. That meant for Greg that he could count out sneaking off to the town a few kilometers away to get a glass of mead.

Once the meeting concluded, Flemming released the group into the capable hands of the military official who will serve as the laboratory's commanding officer. He handed each member a key with a slip of paper with a map of the facility and the room number to their bunk. He wished everyone good wishes upon a quick end to the war and successful weapons to help the war conclude faster.

Greg found himself on the third level in a room by himself. It wasn't much of a room, as it barely held any furnishings. The walls weren't even painted making the room appear as dark and dreary as the rest of this complex. In the corner sat a lone dark green canvas cot, to the side was a small dresser. Above the cot hung a lamp that neither lit the room well, nor appeared to operate to satisfactory standards. At the cot's foot sat a footlocker, olive green to match the rest of the decoration in the room. The only other piece of furniture in the room was a single rickety chair that looked as though it had seen better days.

The place wasn't even dry as water dripped from the ceiling from the humidity. Greg found it the most miserable place in the world and he could have traded anything to be rid of the place.

With nothing better to do, he sat down on the chair and pulled the small notepad from his pocket and started writing a note to his wife, Emma, and his young son, Trevor. Mostly he wrote his apologies for not returning home from the lab and explained what had happened to him. He hoped that they would understand if the unthinkable happened. With all his love he signed it, "Greg" and placed the lengthy letter in an envelope addressed to his house in London.

He placed the letter on his dresser secured by the lamp before flopping down on the uncomfortable cot. His mind and body were exhausted, but he couldn't sleep. For the first time in his life he questioned his own career path. He tried to convince himself that this would be saving lives, but he was leery about the Parliament's intentions for his many talents. What's worse is, he doesn't know if he could handle being single-handedly responsible for mass murder. It was a thought that weighed heavily on his conscience.

Movement in the underground facility nearly came to a stop sometime in the wee hours of the morning. Even the silence wasn't enough to put Greg's conscience. Nothing short of returning home would have been enough to settle Greg's emotions. Nonetheless, he did manage to find sleep. The moral issues on his brain pushed aside, his eyes drifted shut, and the world feel into a stagnated peace within his bittersweet dreams.


To Be Continued...

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(A/N) I am currently in the market for a Beta. if you read this like my style and think you would like the job. Please feel free to contact me.