Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing them for a night.

Spoilers: Season 7, specifically Fannysmackin', Post Mortem and Big Shots. Also "A Bullet Runs Through It.

A/N: Just a drabble. Got the idea after getting at least as wasted as Greggo is in the story, so if it doesn't make much sense, that's why.

Brass entered the dark, smoky bar looking for a drink. He had just come off a double, and was hoping to relax after another tough case. He walked up to the bar when someone caught his eye.

"Greg? What are you doing here?" Brass was surprised to see the young man.

Greg turned his attention from the blond that he had been trying and failing to pick up all night. "Hi, Jim." He grinned. "Buy you drink? Or better yet, you can buy me a drink." Greg laughed at his own joke.

"I think you've had enough all ready." Sanders looked about ready to fall off his chair. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

Greg shrugged. "Didn't feel like going home."

Brass looked at the young CSI. He seemed wasted, sure, but he also looked he hadn't gotten a good day's sleep in quite a while. "Didn't want to go home, or just couldn't sleep?" Jim knew that the Demetrius James thing was still eating at Greg. Sofia had mentioned that Greg said something about not sleeping. He just hadn't been the same goofy CSI that Brass remembered.

"Can't sleep, haven't been ever since…" Greg didn't want to finish the sentence. Brass nodded in understanding.

"You want to talk about it?" Jim hadn't been especially close to Greg, but he had been worried about him. Jim had come to respect Sanders a lot more after working with him for a while, and especially after what Greg had done to help the tourist.

Greg laughed again; evidently the alcohol made everything seem funny to him. "Let's see. I try to help a guy, wind up running over a college student and killing him, city pays her 2.5 million even though I didn't do anything wrong." Greg paused, draining the glass in front of him.

Jim looked at him. "You know under Sheriff Asshole only did that to cover his ass."

Greg looked over at Jim, as if noticing him for the first time. "Know what that guy said to me? 'It would've been so much easier if I had been the black guy.'

"Hence the 'asshole' remark. He's not worth screwing up your career."

"No shit." Greg thought about it. "Funny. You know what they said at the inquest, that the death was 'excusable'. Not the only option, but at least not criminal. They were right though. I had another option. Greg shrugged and downed his next beer in one gulp."

"What, let them kill the tourist? You and I both know that while that was a possibility, it was not an option, not really."

"I keep going over it my head. Kind of felt like one of those choices that aren't really a choice at all. I was scared shitless, but couldn't just wait for them to finish him. Stanley, guy I saved, called me a hero, but I didn't feel like one. I was scared and had no fucking clue what I was doing, and someone still died. "

Jim shrugged, understanding what Greg was trying to express. "You did the right thing. You still did your best to help the guy, even though you were scared. You saved a life. Sound fairly heroic if you ask me."

Greg finished his last drink. "Maybe you're right. I just wish the guy had run off with the others, that would've saved us both a lot of grief."

"You did what you could. Come on, let's get out here." Jim led the drunken Greg to his car. He'd call Grissom later to tell him Greggo wasn't coming in later.

"Hey Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

A/N: So what'd you think? Thought this up while watching Post Mortem (and doing my best to empty the 12-pack in garage.) Please review!