I don't own CSI.

I got to thinking about this story when I saw Robert David Hall in a commercial on Turner Classic Movies talking about disabled actors and portrayls of disabilities in movies throughout the years. That, and the fact that my mom is in a wheelchair as well, led to this story. I wondered what Jackson might say to Doc Robbins, and I remembered some relatives of mine when they were younger asking my mom about her disability. So...enough rambling! Hope you all enjoy this story. And don't forget to review!

Jackson Sanders loved hanging out at the break room in the lab with his father Greg and their extended family. After Greg had finished a case, Mrs. Russell dropped Jackson off at the lab, and the two were waiting for Morgan to finish up her case so they could go home.

Greg was sitting on the couch with Jackson on his lap, looking at a drawing the four-year old had made in preschool of a tree and flowers. Greg and Morgan's good friend, Doctor Al Robbins, came into the break room and smiled when he saw the young CSI and his son.

"Hey, Greg! Hi Jackson!" He greeted them as he walked in.

"Hey!" Greg said.

"You and Nick figure out your case yet?" Al asked as Jackson climbed down from his father's lap.

"Yeah, we just closed it." Greg helped Jackson take some crayons and paper out of his book bag.

Jackson watched as Doc Robbins walked around the break room, getting a cup of coffee and maneuvering around the room using his crutch. "Doc, why do you hafta use that?" Jackson asked as he pointed to the crutch.

Al smiled at the little boy. "Because my legs don't work like yours do."

Jackson thought for a moment. "You don't have good legs?"

Greg pulled Jackson close to him while Al sighed and smiled. "No, my legs are different from yours. A long time ago, I was hurt really bad."

"Dat's why your legs aren't good?" Jackson asked.

"Well, they had to give me new ones," Al said as he tapped the crutch to his legs. "You have normal legs, mine are special. So I can walk and do a lot of things you and your daddy can do."

Jackson nodded. "You can walk, you jus' need a little help."

Greg and Al smiled at the sweet little boy. "That's right," Al said. "There are still some things I can't do as well as your daddy can, but I think I do just fine."

"Yeah, you do." Jackson nodded and smiled.

Al and Greg both laughed softly. "There are some things you can do better than me, Jackson," Al said. "You can run and slide down a slide better than I can."

Greg smiled as Jackson nodded. "Yeah, you love to run and play at the playground."

Jackson smiled. "Yeah, da swings are fun."

Al laughed softly. "See, there are some things that you can do a little better than I can."

Jackson thought for a moment. "But you can do some things dat I can't do, like work wif my daddy in da lab, right?"

"That's right," Al said with a smile.

"Doc, is your legs ever gunna get better?" Jackson asked.

Al softly smiled at his good friend's son. "No, they aren't going to get better. But you know what?"

"What?" Jackson asked.

"I think I do just fine the way I am."

Jackson smiled widely. "Yeah, you're okay."

Al and Greg laughed softly. "Yeah," Greg said. "And he's a great friend, too, right Jacks?"

"Yep!" Jackson said.

Al smiled at the two. "Thank you. And you know what?" Jackson shook his head. "You're both great friends, too."

"Thank you," Greg said.

Jackson wrapped his arms around Al's legs, giving him a hug. "Thank you!"

Al smiled at the sweet little boy. "Thank you." He said goodbye to the two and headed for his office.

Jackson watched as Doc Robbins walked down the hall. "Daddy, I think his legs work okay," he said as he sat down at the table.

"Yeah, he's just fine," Greg said as he gave his son his crayons.

"Yep! Jus' fine!"

The End.