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A full week had passed and Greg was back to work. He feared coming back – not because of the dangers the job brought with it – but because he was worried how his colleagues, especially the ones from the police station, were reacting to him.
He was working a big crime scene with Russell and Nick, who were both inside the house while he was processing the backyard, where a murder took place. Officer Grant was standing next to the door, watching Greg and making sure he was safe. The stern face impression irritated Greg a bit, he didn't even greet the CSI when he walked in. He was well aware that Grant and Turner were good friends so he tried to stay out of the officer's way as good as possible.
"So how you doin'?" Grant asked after quite a long period of silence.
Greg's concentration broke, he almost let the piece of evidence he just picked up with a pair of tweezers fall down. "Uh... I'm... holding up," he answered as he bagged the evidence.
"Yeah? Visited Spencer yet?"
He nodded. "He didn't really want to see me, though."
"Doesn't surprise me."
Greg sighed as he tried to concentrate on the evidence again, but the officer wasn't finished yet.
"I can't imagine what it's like to be there when your partner dies, yet don't know what exactly happened. It must be horrible to never know what went down."
He tried to be understanding – after all, they all lost a friend and colleague – but he had enough with the passive-agressiveness they all presented towards him. "Is there anything you want to say to me, officer?" He stood face to face with him.
"Like what? That it's quite suspicious you survived while Turner died, even though he was unconscious?" He laughed humorlessly.
"Okay, that's enough!" Greg tossed his flashlight away in anger. "The whole day I had to pretend that I didn't see all the looks and didn't hear the whispers any time I walk by any of you! I did nothing wrong! I'm as devastated over Turner's death as the rest of you. Stop trying to make me out to be the bad guy here when there's a cop killer on the loose!"
The officer took a step forward as the smirk on his face slowly faded.
The same moment as Greg realized he couldn't handle the consequences his big mouth could lead to, Russell walked into the yard. "How's it going here? ...Am I interrupting something?" He looked around, instantly noticing the flashlight on the floor. He walked over to pick it up. "I think you dropped something." He sensed the tension between his colleague and the officer. "How far did you get?"
"Only about an hour of work left, I think," Greg replied, repeatedly looking at Grant.
"How about we switch? I take over here, you finish my work inside."
"No, I'm good," he said as he looked into Grant's eyes quite provocatively.
"Are you sure?" the supervisor asked quite worried.
"Mhm," was all he replied as he nodded.
Russell didn't feel too comfortable leaving the two just like that, but he didn't want to patronize Greg, either, so he decided to check on them every once in a while. After he left, Greg went back to work and officer Grant went back to watching him in silence.
Greg was walking out of the police station with a big sigh. Some officers were treating him the same way as they did before, but others let him feel that they held him somewhat responsible for Turner's death. He felt very uncomfortable inside these walls and was glad he got out of there.
"What exactly is this?!" Officer Spencer stormed towards him, holding up a file.
Greg looked quite surprised at him. "...I don't know, what is it?"
Spencer threw the files at him. "This is your report on the incident?! Are you serious?! Change it!"
Greg frowned confused. "What do you mean? I told Brass what happened."
"That's not how it went down!"
"...Which part do you mean?" Greg was trying to stay calm. He was nervous as hell but didn't want to let it show.
"I never gave you a gun. Your own gun was jammed."
He shook his head. "No, you gave me Turner's. I didn't have mine with me, I hardly ever do."
"No!" Spencer yelled, "Turner's going to take the blame, right? You mess up and his name gets dragged."
"Guns get jammed, Spencer. This was a tragic incident, no one's at fault here."
"Yeah? Will you tell I.A. that, too? They're already snooping around, asking how often Turner cleaned his gun. They're trying to pin this on him!"
"...Sorry, I didn't know that."
"Yeah, because you didn't care, right?"
"This isn't fair, Spencer. I tried to protect you guys and failed. I'll have to live with that. What do you want me to do?"
"Fix this!" Spencer grabbed Greg's arm in a tight, painful grip, dragging him back inside the station.
"What are you doing? Stop!" Greg was trying real hard to stay calm, but a slight feeling of panic was creeping up on him slowly.
A lot of eyes followed them as they made their way to the interrogation room. Spencer opened the door and pushed Greg inside, closing the door behind him. "Sit down," he ordered.
Greg was a little reluctant to do so, but he did, anyway. "Will you please explain to me what you're doing?" Being in a closed room together with just one person was making him uncomfortable at the moment, but it was much worse with an agitated man like Spencer.
"Here, write down that you're revoking your report." He put some paper and a pen in front of Greg on the table. They both didn't realize that they were being watched by half a dozen police officers staring through the mirrored window.
"This is how it happened, Spencer. You know that."
"I don't recall handing you any gun. You must've either had one with you all along or grabbed Turner's yourself. Write that down." He sat down opposite the CSI.
"...Please, don't make this any harder than it already is. Do you think I like this? I feel guilty and I know the whole department blames me. I don't deserve this, I did nothing wrong," Greg kept repeating that line, trying to convince not only Spencer but also himself.
Spencer rose up from his seat, walking a few steps closer to Greg. His hands were shaking from the anger he felt. "I'm not asking you to do it, alright? Just do it!"
"I'm not gonna lie on a police report so you can feel better. It wouldn't change anything, anyway."
While Greg meant this in the most supportive way, it angered Spencer to a point where he just didn't care about any consequences anymore. He walked behind Greg and grabbed him, putting the pen in his hand and trying to force him to write.
The CSI released a painful scream as Spencer put his fingers around his injured hand. "Stop, please! Spencer, you..." He tried to get him to stop with his left hand, but this pushed Spencer only further.
He grabbed Greg's left arm and put it behind his back forcefully, pushing his upper body on the table. "Write it!"
Greg was too shocked to try to fight him off. He knew he wouldn't stand a chance, anyway, so he just remained like that. He had already let go of the pen, he was now just shaking and wailing, moaning in pain.
"You took the gun, this wasn't my fault. It's yours!" Spencer yelled as his eyes started to water. He kept pressing him down. "Listen to me! I know your weaknesses, alright? I know what scares you, I know what haunts you! So stop messing around and do what I tell you to! Change the report!"
Several moments of him trying to intimidate Greg passed until one of the officers watching outside walked in to get Spencer off of him. "Come on, man. He's not worth the trouble."
No one took care of Greg or even asked if he was alright, but he needed a moment to himself to catch his breath, anyway.
