(Disclaimer: I own nothing

Note: For those of you who are tuning into this because you read The Atom That Walked into the Bar, I am currently working on that follow up I said I'd do – Sorry it's taking so long.

So if you are reading this because of that, thank you for looking into my other stories – I really appreciate it and hope you enjoy this one just as much! It is Greg-centric (and will be sad but also far more adventurous and hopeful).

Also, please don't assume it won't have a happy ending! I don't pull those very often – really! On that note…please don't assume it'll be a happy ending either… ;D Maybe I just shouldn't have said anything at all. Hehe.

For those of you who are just reading because you stumbled upon it...HI! Welcome and hope you enjoy.

Edit Note: I apologize to anyone who read this without the proper story breaks. I returned to find ff . net had elimanted all break lines in my stories. They're fixed now and will read smoother. My apologies to all readers.

Warning: slash; dark/morbid/horror (overall mature) themes)

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Good Night, White Knight

Prologue

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When he was young, his father would read to him as he slowly nodded off in bed, desperately trying to stay awake to hear the end of the tale. Fairy tales were his favorite. Adventure, danger, damsels, a little bit of love, and always a happy ending.

And ever since, he too had wanted to be rescued by a White Knight in shining armor. His parents only laughed. He never understood why.

In elementary school, he played with the other kids – soccer, tag, hide and seek, and all the imaginary games the girls liked to play best. Like Princesses. He learned quickly that Princesses got rescued, just like in the stories.

But with it he learned that boys don't make good Princesses. No, boys were supposed to do the rescuing – he was supposed to be the white knight.

All the kids laughed when he didn't understand: when he explained he wanted to be the one who got rescued. He still couldn't understand why – why everyone laughed when he said that.

But he knew he didn't like it.

So ever since then, he tried to be the white knight those little girls wanted him to be in their imaginary games. He told himself he wanted to be the rescuer who saved the girls. He would be the hero that saved the day.

And then those kids wouldn't laugh. His parents wouldn't laugh.

It was in high school that he first realized his determination to be someone's knight in shining armor was as shaky as a false desire could be. His first boyfriend – his first kiss – uprooted all the beliefs he had drilled into his head.

The laughter of those kids rang in his ears for months afterwards and the scorn and shame he felt never really left him.

In college, he found a way around the troubled thoughts of saving those damsels in distress. He was a nerd in his heart and certainly in his head – and he was quickly learning what he could do with his life. At college, he knew he would eventually find a future that would make him a White Knight.

With that comfort in mind, he couldn't help the urging of his nature – the exploration and the partying and the flirting. Three more boyfriends and a couple of girlfriends (along with several very entertaining nights) left him with a mixture of giddiness, uncertainty, and wild abandonment.

But along with it came the shame of not having saved anyone after four years – of having been no one's white knight or any struggling damsel's hero. Having not yet decided on a career to do so in the future, he graduated with a sense of loss and confusion.

He felt as if he was letting someone down. Perhaps it was himself; perhaps his parents or those laughing children whose names he could no longer remember and whose faces had long faded from memory.

Maybe it was the characters in those fairy tales.

And so he put new determination in his step and sought out a profession that would make him feel like the Knight he knew he could be. Within three months of graduation – a science major with noteworthy grades (though, the occasional slip up due to a tad too much partying) and a rather interesting resume – he had received an e-mail with a job opening at a Las Vegas Crime Lab.

That was his chance – his golden opportunity to be someone's hero. He would save more than just damsels in distress. He would help to bring justice to those who couldn't bring it to themselves.

He was going to be a Lab Rat.

(Little did he know, he would end up bearing that title literally and figuratively, as his new Boss's test subject.)

Five months after his graduation he was living in an apartment in Las Vegas and working as a rookie at an amazing crime lab. His nerd side couldn't stop 'geeking' out over the equipment! Oh, the things he got to play with! (And they paid him to do it, too!)

And then he walked in with a crooked smirk, brown eyes, and a Texas accent.

All thoughts of being a Knight were once more gone from his mind. All hopes of changing his life around and wearing that armor were washed from his brain.

Ever since his father had read to him in bed, he'd imagined being rescued by an armored Knight of his own. He never imagined it would come in the shape of an (incredibly sexy) Cowboy with a CSI badge.

Two years passed and he fought between indulging in the flirtations he gave his cowboy and his promise to become a White Knight too.

And then she walked in with a gap-toothed smile, beautiful brown hair, and an I-Don't-Need-Saving attitude.

Ever since elementary school, he had been trying to be a White Knight – a hero that saved those in distress and danger. From that moment on, he knew that he could be her white knight.

Four years passed and he fought between indulging in the flirtations his cowboy now gave him and convincing this girl who didn't need saving to let him save her.

In the end, he lost his girl to another. But towards the end, he realized, he'd stopped trying to save her.

White Knights fought through danger – they faced dragons and boiling lakes of lava and they made it through to save the day.

They didn't kill college students in alley ways.

Ever since High school, he knew he'd been kidding himself. He could never be a Knight in shining armor.

And he should have known that from the beginning. So he stopped trying to save her – to save people in general. He stopped the flirtations with his cowboy. He stopped trying to be what he wasn't.

Two more years passed in a solemn manner he had never had before. Slowly, his mannerisms had changed – his hobbies and music and habits. He got quieter – more confused and lost than ever.

What was he supposed to do, unable to model himself after those fairy tale heroes he'd always promised himself he'd be like?

White Knights in shining armor don't kill kids. They don't let the girls they're supposed to be saving get kidnapped. They don't get on planes while their cowboy's best friend gets shot.

He was no hero.

And maybe he'd always known that. Maybe that was why he had always wanted to be the one who got rescued – maybe he knew he'd always need it.

Maybe, even in that bed with his father's voice lulling him to sleep, he knew that this would happen. That he would mess up – again, no, always – and find himself with more than he could handle.

Find himself in need of rescuing.

But White Knights don't rescue boys. And they certainly don't rescue them from sewer systems.

Delirious – fighting off the starvation, dehydration, and disease brought on by four weeks of being locked in a grimy prison beneath the burning desert – Greg Sanders stared at the distant stars, barely seen through the only freedom of his cement captivity.

He wondered if Cowboys with CSI badges rescued boys from sewers.

Because he knew White Knights only dealt with towers.

-o—o—o-

Good Night White Knight

End Prologue

-o—o—o-

Alright, so here we go! My next CSI story – man, I hope I can do as good as the last.

For those of you reading this who have also read Atom, it's gonna obviously be a bit different (as would be expected from a different story). It won't have the loose writing style so many of you commented on (sorry, that's not actually my standard writing style!) and it's not from Greg's POV.

This time, there's more actual CSI-ness (like cases!) and real Science (Yaaay, science!). Plus, you'll get more character interaction than just Greg and Nick!

So, please review and tell me how the prologue was!

-Author Notes-

brought on by four weeks…Let me start off by saying I've already done a lot of research for this story. I am aware that you can last only (this varies somewhat on the situation) three days in a 110 degree climate (in the shade) with no water and eight to twelve weeks without food (with severe to (obviously) fatal affects). So obviously, Greg has some supply of both that will be gotten to in later chapters.

Just wanted to get that in author notes so no one wondered how an imprisoned person had survived four weeks. It'll all be gotten to in good time!

-End A/N-

Thanks, and please review!