Title: Maybe it gets better
Summary: After 'Playing with Fire' –Greg & Sara friendship
Disclaimer: 'CSI: Crime Scene Investigation' is a production of Alliance Atlantis and CBS Productions, in conjunction with Jerry Bruckheimer Films. It doesn't belong to me, nor do I earn any financial profit from my use of it.
Spoilers: Playing With Fire, Inside the Box
A/N: Just an idea that popped into my head while reading a couple nights ago. I don't know if it's similar to anything else on the site (I haven't been able to find anything, but you never know!) If it is, my apologies to the author. As I have no personal experience in an explosion, I am basing their conversation on other experiences. Therefore, please read this with the understanding it's my interpretation of their reactions. One last thing: there are no relationships in this story, just a Greg & Sara friendship.
Thanks for reading! As always, feedback is treasured. I'm trying to improve based on your reviews, so suggestions are appreciated. Thank you to those who reviewed my last fic (A Dança) – MissyJane, MsCassy, SAR and A Bloom.
Wishing you peace and happiness ~ Lynn
***
As her sneakers padded silently down the hall towards the locker room, Sara compared the look of the crime lab in the day to its appearance during the night. Although today wasn't the first time she worked during the day, it certainly was the first time she considered the contrasting appearance of the crime lab from day to night. In the night, the lab was her sanctuary. She understood the building intuitively; she didn't think about where she was going. She just went. To her, the stark paint on the walls and the institutional lighting were relaxing.
In the day, the lab felt different. The halls felt narrower; the lab almost claustrophobic in nature. It vibrated with activity as Ecklie's shift processed evidence and analyzed data. It made her feel uncomfortable.
It had been a busy day. She was working a couple hours of overtime to wrap up a break and enter from the week before. Given that it was Sunday, Sara was perplexed to see so many people working. She'd asked Ecklie about it, but his reply was that the nerds always needed an explanation for everything.
Sara passed Greg's lab on her way out. To her surprise, he stood in the lab, bent over his desk while scrawling a note on a lab report.
"Hey," she called.
Greg's head snapped up.
"Sara," he said, surprised.
"That would be me," she teased.
"Well, I thought I was the only one Ecklie called in to work Sunday afternoons."
"I was doing overtime," Sara replied.
Greg nodded.
"So," Sara pressed, "what are you doing?"
"Finishing up a DNA analysis from a homicide this morning. Apparently the day shift's lab tech couldn't get a trace off of the sample, but Ecklie was convinced I could."
"Well," Sara said.
"Well what?"
"Did you get a trace?"
"Yeah," Greg answered. "It matched a CODIS listing from a previous offender. Ecklie's off to pick him up."
Sara nodded.
"I guess I'll see you later," Sara said, moving towards the door.
"Are you busy?" Greg asked shyly.
"No," Sara replied, turning to face him again.
"Do you want to grab some coffee, maybe?"
"Sure."
***
Sara played with the napkin at the tiny table in the bistro they stopped in. She wasn't working tonight, but Greg's shift began in an hour so they agreed to keep it short. She wasn't quite sure why they were doing this. She knew that she personally hadn't been in a very social mood since the explosion in the lab. It seemed that everyone wanted to ask her about the explosion, or express his or her feelings on the matter.
***
'It must have been an interesting experience, from a scientific point of view of course.'
***
'Did your life flash in front of your eyes?'
***
'Have you made any changes in your life now that you've had a near-death experience?'
***
'Did all your evidence get destroyed?'
***
'Was is scary?'
***
Her standard response was a non-committal comment that she rather not talk about it. Most people looked flustered, almost apologetic. They didn't understand.
Inside, she wanted to scream at them, "Of course I was scared! The explosion was in my refuge from the world, the one place I feel safe. All I could think about was whether on not I was dead. I didn't wonder if anyone else was dead. I just wondered if I was alive. It was the worst moment in my life."
Greg slid a massive ceramic cup towards Sara.
"Thinking about the explosion?" he asked abruptly, as he stared at the swirls of foam in his latte.
Sara blinked. She briefly considered lying, like she would if anyone else had asked. Greg, however, probably understood. He'd been there. She nodded slowly.
"Sometimes," Greg said quietly, almost in a whisper, "my mind suddenly fills with the images of the explosion. I don't have a complete recollection of the explosion, but I remember how it made me feel."
Sara's attention was riveted on a coffee stain on the tablecloth.
"I thought I was going to die," Greg mumbled.
Her chestnut eyes focussed on Greg.
"Me too."
"They don't understand," Sara said.
"I know."
"I mean, although everyone asks how we're doing, they don't really want to know how we feel."
"Or they get all concerned about the evidence that was lost in the explosion," Greg added.
Greg fell silent, playing with the spoon that rested in his coffee cup.
"I don't mind the flashed backs so much," she said softly. "It's the nightmares I have difficulty handling."
"It's supposed to get better," Greg replied, a wry grin on his face.
"So they say," Sara said, a crooked smile playing across her features.
Greg returned the smile, but it
faded away quickly when he looked at his watch.
"I've got to go," he said hesitantly.
"Thanks for the coffee," Sara said, gesturing at the cup that sat untouched in front of her.
"No problem."
"And thanks for listening," Sara added.
Greg looked at her wearing a surprised expression on his face.
"I mean it," Sara continued quickly. "You understand. I can't talk about it with anyone else. They either try too hard or not enough."
"Grissom understands, in a manner of speaking," Greg said.
"He does?"
"Yeah. He talked to me about it a
couple nights ago."
"Maybe he does," Sara admitted, "but not enough to broach the subject with me."
"You're probably right," Greg said.
"You should get going."
"I know. I'll see you tomorrow night, then?"
Sara nodded.
Greg headed towards the door, dropping a tip at the counter on his way out. When he reached the door, he turned back towards Sara.
"Thanks, Sara," he called out, and opened the door.
Sara watched his back as it disappeared down the street, towards the crime lab. She returned her attention to the coffee cup in front of her. It tasted bitter and it had lost its warmth a long time ago, but she drank it anyways. She wasn't going to sleep tonight, so she might as well stay awake enough to finish off the report she was working on.
As she headed towards her car, Sara found the outline of the LVPD building in the horizon. For the first time in a long time, she didn't turn away because she was afraid of the memories it might churn up. She still shuddered slightly, but her mind didn't spin like she was experiencing the explosion again.
Maybe it was getting better.
***
End.