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Chapter Eleven: Trust and Betrayal


It hadn't been much of a conversation; the man was silent save for the questions he asked, and even then they were short and to the point. Greg stood facing him, his arms crossed as he answered monotonously. He had done this before, more than once; it almost seemed natural now.

It was a depressing thought; being interrogated was not something he wanted to become routine in his life. Plus it didn't help the fact that he was currently in poor standings with what seemed like everyone back at the Lab. He found no compassion from Captain Brass when the man showed up shortly after the paramedics, and it hadn't surprised him either. Greg had recently found out about Brass' distaste for him a while back, and the bitter remarks still stung more than he wanted to admit.

There had been a part of him that wanted to avoid this altogether. Greg knew it was a ridiculous thought, but he hadn't wanted to be the one to call it in. Thankfully he didn't have to; someone else had beaten him to it. It was the first time Greg could ever remember being thankful for nosy neighbors.

There had been a brief struggle, and the suspect had been unarmed, a very fortunate circumstance for Greg indeed. But that hadn't stopped whoever it was from using brute force. Greg had taken a few sharp blows, and had dealt a few of his own before losing the struggle altogether. On the floor of his own apartment the suspect had wriggled out of his grasp, kicking Greg in the head during the ordeal. It had left him dazed long enough to escape, and by the time Greg came to his sense the sirens could be heard outside.

"You didn't get any description at all?"

"It was dark and he was wearing a mask," Greg answered tiredly. He knew it wasn't much help, but given the circumstances there wasn't much he could do.

"You of all people should know that identifying a suspect is the number one key to cracking a case," Brass chastised him, jotting down even more notes on his pad.

"I'm sorry," Greg muttered sarcastically. "Next time he happens to break in, I'll ask him to take his mask off so I can get a picture."

"Good, considering your description matches three quarters of the entire Vegas population," Brass scowled.

"Look," Greg snapped angrily, "I'm tired, because I haven't had a decent night's rest in God knows how long, I haven't had a full meal in what feels like forever because I've been too busy working, and to top it all off, I'm a little sore."

"Don't forget bitchy," Brass commented, seemingly unaffected by the other man's outburst.

Greg closed his eyes, unable to come up with a response to remark. Somehow it seemed that not matter what he did, he was dammed either way. Apparently he was more right than he had originally suspected, for the two last people he wanted to see in the world were now coming up to him.

"Something must be important for you to come all the way out here," Greg said testily as the first man approached.

"Watch it Sanders," Ecklie answered crossly. "You're already in enough trouble as it is."

"Now I'm in trouble? Unbelievable!"

"Almost as unbelievable as you losing the case file…"

"Enough!"

It was Grissom who had broken the heated argument, and for some strange reason everyone listened and the tension, though still there, was slowly fading away. Greg hardly met the other man's gaze; he knew his supervisor was already angry with him considering everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours, and he didn't want to add anything else to the list, but it seemed like an almost impossible task at the moment.

"Have you been checked out yet?"

Greg shook his head.

"You may have a concussion; I want you checked before you leave. For the rest of us…"

"I don't."

Greg hardly enjoyed the look Grissom gave him.

"You don't what? Have a concussion, or you don't want to be checked out?"

"Both."

"You have symptoms of a concussion..."

"Which can be mistaken for being overly tired," Greg defended himself. He had plenty of interactions with hospitals and paramedics in the past, scenarios which he wanted to avoid not only now, but for all future time. He knew it was unreasonable thought, but the longer he could hold off from any sort of visit, was better for him.

"Greg," Grissom's voice dropped a notch lower, the way it seemed to do whenever he was serious. It was the same voice that Greg hated to hear the most. "Your past history leaves you vulnerable to concussions. This is not a suggestion."

"I can make sure he gets there."

Greg felt his stomach turn as Grissom smiled at the newcomer. He knew who the voice belonged to, and Greg also knew that the man would stick to his word. Nick was the type of person who never backed away from a promise.

"Thank you Nick," Grissom nodded towards them, smiling still.

"Yes, thank you," Greg echoed, turning around to face the Texan. "I thought you weren't allowed to leave the Lab."

"Special call," the man smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Come on."

"I can walk over there by myself you know. I am capable of doing one thing right at least."

"Bad day?"

"Possibly the worst of my life," Greg muttered, "and for me, that's saying a lot."

He took a seat on the edge of the curb as Nick motioned to one of the paramedics that had been hanging nearby. Greg didn't even bother looking as the Texan sat next to him; instead he let out a sigh. "So what about you?"

"Well, my day's probably gone a little better than yours," Nick commented, eyeing the cut on Greg's forehead. "But I wouldn't start taking bets."

"Yeah? Try compromising a case and not being able to vouch for yourself, and having no one believe you, and the one person that should at least listen to you completely blow you away. And not in a good way."

"Sara?"

Greg nodded, flinching as the paramedic began cleaning the cut. "She thinks I did the entire thing on purpose. Hell, I don't even know if I did it on accident."

"I'm sure it's a misunderstanding…" Nick offered.

"She threatened to call security on me because I stopped to say hello. She believes it has to do with my 'love' of media attention. Besides…she's not even here. I don't care how mad I was, if this had happened to her…I'd still come."

For once the Texan was silent, and though it had been what Greg had wanted before, it almost hurt to know that Nick silently agreed with him. Part of him wanted to hear Nick argue…Greg needed to hear that, even if it was a lie. Maybe he needed it because the truth hurt too much.

"Everyone fights Greg…and fighting with women…it's like...trying to bathe a cat. Pointless and you only end up hurt in the end."

"Never quite heard it put that way before."

"Sorry," Nick apologized quietly. "I'm not very good at this kind of thing. She did call though."

"Who?"

"Sara," Nick nodded towards him. "She wanted me to take you to the hotel."

Greg frowned, trying to follow what he was saying. "Hotel?"

"Your apartment is a crime scene now. You can't stay there. Sara's got a place over at the Tropicana. She called me and asked if I'd give you a ride."

"Didn't ask how I was," Greg shrugged it off, or at least tried to.

"Would have been pointless."

"Thanks, I needed that."

"I didn't know how you were Greg," Nick explained. "So I couldn't have told her even if she did ask."

"It doesn't change the fact."

Nor did it hurt any less. Sara simply hadn't bothered…sending someone else to 'fetch' him. Was she still angry at him? More in likely, and it made him want to avoid going to the hotel even more. What was the point after all? He either would be faced with more criticism, or the silent treatment, and at the moment, he wasn't sure which one he was more afraid of.

Nick had waited patiently once the paramedics where finished; waiting until Greg had made the first move. If the Texan was judging him, he was doing a good job of hiding it. Greg was thankful, and in an odd sort of way, he felt comfortable around the man, feeling as though for the first time that day, he was with someone who wouldn't turn their back on him, despite all that had happened. And for that, he was grateful.


Things had taken much longer than she had anticipated. It had been her intention to be waiting at the hotel by the time Greg arrived, but Sara knew that time had already come and gone. It had been one of the hardest things she had ever done; a hard feat considering everything she had just recently done. But she couldn't reschedule, not again. Appointments were hard enough to make as it was. Having to schedule around work, and around Greg was tiring, and she had already called off three visits. Pretty soon she feared her doctor would start calling work, and Grissom would find out…then Greg…

Greg…

She had wanted to be there for him; but the call had come in when she was driving to the hospital. Sophia had updated her quickly on the situation, reassuring her that Greg was in no real danger, and was only waiting for Brass and the others to show up. Sara knew that she couldn't pick him up, and immediately leave after with no explanation as to where she was going. It was hard, but she accepted the fact that this could play in her favor.

For each passing day, her idea grew stronger. In her mind she could see how things would turn out in the end, and knew that Greg would only be satisfied if he believed that he'd be better off without her. It was a painful thought, but she clung to it, for the memories of her own childhood rung fiercely in her mind. He deserved better than that…their child deserved better…they all did. Sara was willing to make the sacrifice, and forgo her own selfish needs and wants if it meant a chance at a decent life.

The hard part was keeping up the act in his presence. She couldn't very well go about the rest of her life never seeing or speaking to him again…well she could, but it wouldn't be fair to Greg. She let out a long sigh; it was a rather confusing matter the more she thought about it.

The drive to the hotel was a long one, and walking to the room was even longer. In the elevators she juggled words in her mind, trying to formulate what she would say when they faced each other. Greg would doubt be upset…but what did you say to someone in such a state when you only wanted to keep the distance growing? Everything of course would be so much easier if she didn't love him…but that was the problem. She did love him; more than she could ever say.

But words weren't needed. The room was dark, the curtains drawn across the windows and he was asleep, stretched out on top of the covers. Sara could tell he had fallen asleep shortly after arriving; he hadn't even bother changing out of the coveralls given to him back at the scene. His hair was a mess, and tiny line of drool ran across the pillow. Damn…why did he have to be so cute?

She closed her eyes, leaning against the wall. All her earlier thoughts and plans melted away, and the only thing she wanted to do was curl up next to him. She wanted…no needed to feel him, to be as close as she could, to feel his warm skin, and breathe in his scent. Why was she so weak?

"To the hell with it," she cursed quietly, dropping her purse on the floor. If was she was going leave within the next seven months, she was going to enjoy it as much as she could. Once everything was said and done, there would be no going back. Silently, she slid onto the bed, resting her head behind his, touching him carefully. When he didn't stir she moved closer, inching forward until she was pressed up against him, arm wrapped around his waist.

He moved then, but not enough to indicate he was waking up. Even so, she held still, only relaxing when she knew for sure he was still sleeping. With a small smile she closed her eyes, the icy chill in the pit of her stomach disappearing for the first time that day.

TBC