VIII - DOCTOR ROBBINS
Greg was dead on his feet. He would never admit this to anyone, but he was bone tired. Grissom had left the lab just moments ago, summoned by pager, and Greg was relieved to see him leave. As much as he and Grissom seemed to understand each other lately, Greg knew Grissom would make him go home if he new how badly Greg felt right now.
Leaning weakly on the counter, he waited for the DNA test results to finish, vowing he was going to lie down in Grissom's office as soon as they printed. He closed his eyes and propped his head in his hands, letting his mind drift as he waited.
Doc Robbins watched him from the doorway momentarily. He had been on his way to the break room to get a cup of coffee, and had noticed Greg sitting in his lab. He was surprised to see Greg there, not having realized he would be allowed back to work so soon, and sighed in amusement and exasperation at Grissom. How many times had they spoken today? And Grissom hadn't mentioned anything. Robbins shook his head. Grissom was a brilliant scientist, but totally clueless sometimes.
"Hey Greg."
The sudden voice behind him made Greg jump straight up in the air, eyes popping open and air whooshing out of his lungs in surprise. His body shook a couple of times, and Robbins noted with concern the sudden pallor on the young mans face and the spasmodic twitching of his arms. Greg put a hand to his chest, grimacing. It was several moments before he could speak.
"Doctor Robbins." His voice was weak. Robbins had stepped further into the lab, noting the fine beads of sweat popping out on Greg's forehead. "Sorry about that, I didn't hear you. You scared the crap out of me."
"Sit down Greg, before you fall down. I'm sorry - I thought you heard me coming down the hallway." He frowned as he noted Greg still had a hand at his chest. "Is the implant reacting?"
Greg nodded as he sank into his chair. "I'll be fine. It just shocks me when the heartbeat gets too elevated. Please don't tell Grissom about this, he'll send me home."
"Maybe that's were you should be. You're back too early." Robbins leaned forward, checking Greg's pulse. "Still fast, but not too bad."
Greg pulled his wrist away in irritation. "I'm fine. I was going to go and rest anyway in Grissom's office. I'm just waiting for some DNA results, and then I'll go catch a 30 minute catnap or something."
Robbins raised an eyebrow at him. "Shouldn't you have a lead coat on?"
"I'll come and get one from you. I haven't used the bigger equipment yet, so no high grade electrical impulses. I already got the warning from Grissom." He tried to deflect the conversation away from himself, instead asking. "What are you doing? Don't see you in this neck of the woods much."
"I was going to get a coffee, and saw you in here. Thought I'd say hello." He glanced around the lab, scanning the various items before turning to Greg. "Sorry I couldn't make it for your dinner party yesterday, but it was my daughter's birthday. We went to Mezzanine." He paused, looking at Greg squarely, noticing his breathing was still choppy. "I think I should tell Grissom."
"No! No, please don't do that. He'll make me leave, and I couldn't stand it. I hate being by myself when everyone else is here - I -" he paused, before continuing. "I think too much. At least at work, I can contribute something, and it keeps me occupied."
Robbins sighed and pulled up a stool, sliding his arm brace to the side as he sat down. "Do you promise you'll go and rest?" Greg nodded, and Robbins sighed. "Okay. Fine - I won't say anything this time. But don't push yourself Greg. How do you think everyone will feel if you keel over in the lab?"
Greg nodded again, miserably. "I know. I just want to prove to them that I'm still the same - that I can still do the job." He paused, looking at Robbins arm brace. "How did you do it, after your accident? How did you cope? If you don't mind me asking."
"Do you know what happened to me, Greg?"
Greg shrugged. "I've heard theories." He squirmed uncomfortable at that, quickly adding, "Not that we gossip about you a lot, but you know - simple curiosity. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
Robbins smiled. "Not much to tell. I lost my legs in a bike accident about 30 years ago. Some drunken idiot didn't see me and sideswiped me into a culvert. His car almost ripped my leg off. The other leg was so badly damaged in the fall, they didn't think they could save it. They tried, but infection and gangrene - well, it had to go. I was about the same age as you."
"Wow. I'm so sorry! How did you - what made you -"
"How did I cope?" Robbins offered, smiling when Greg blushed. "Its fine Greg, it was a long time ago. I didn't want to live, at first. I was so pissed off - I wanted my legs back. I was a miserable son of a bitch for about 6 months, snapping at everyone, refusing to do physical therapy. I basically started drowning my sorrows with Jack Daniels and Captain Morgan. I thought of different ways to kill myself, but I couldn't do it - Catholic angst, and all." Greg was listening intently, nodding in understanding.
"You know what changed it for me, Greg? I met my wife. And she wouldn't put up with my shit. For whatever reason, she decided she wanted me. I fought her tooth and nail, every step of the way. She'd show up to take me to therapy, she'd come to my apartment and crawl through the window if I wouldn't let her in - she'd yell at me, tell me to stop drinking, stop feeling sorry for yourself - move on!" Robbins chuckled. "She was a real pistol. And I hated her for it. But I went to physio., and I stopped drinking. And soon, I was walking again on prosthetic legs. She ended up moving in with me when I finally realized how much I loved her. And we've been together ever since."
Greg was staring intently at his hands as Robbins finished. "But sometimes - don't you wish -"
"If wishes were horses, Greg. What's the point in regretting what's happened? I can't change it. Before I lost my legs, you know what I did? I was a professional slacker. I'd drift from job to job, making enough money to get by before moving on. After I lost my legs - I met Judy. I took courses at school - I became a doctor at 38 years old. A little late to find my calling, I admit, but I never would have found it at all if I still had my legs. I'd probably be dead, or on skid row. And I have a great job that I love. And I have a family. What's to regret?"
Greg smiled slightly, "Well, when you put it that way." He looked at Robbins again, suddenly shy. "Do you think - well - do you think I'll ever find someone, who'll love me despite -" he waved his hands at his chest, suddenly silent.
Robbins reached out a firm hand, squeezing Greg's knee. "You'll find her. Or she'll find you. Just because you have a little implant to help your heart out sometimes doesn't mean anything. You're heart still works, and that's what's important. Whomever said the heart was the seat of all human emotion was wrong anyway - it's all the mind, and how you see people and how people see you. We all see you as someone pretty special, Greg. One day, so will the right girl."
The two men sat silently for a moment. Greg's breathing was back to normal, and his pallor had lifted somewhat. Robbins noted the fluttery pulse at the base of his throat was no longer visible, and he smiled.
"You're computer has stopped analyzing - or whatever it was doing. Does that mean the test is finished?"
"Yeah. It does." Greg smiled, and walked over to the monitor, quickly hitting print. "Griss is gonna love this. Female DNA. Our artistic letter makers are women."
Robbins looked at the letter Greg had casually waived at, reading it. "This the letter from the bar?"
Greg nodded absently, grabbing his print out. "Yeah." He walked over to Robbins and looked at the note again. "Sick, eh?"
"Grissom never mentioned anything about the Bible when he told me about this."
"Bible?" Greg's voice rose. "This is from the Bible?"
Robbins nodded. "Ten years of Sunday School and Catechism classes can't be wrong. I'm pretty sure it's Leviticus."
_____
Author's Note: Hey everyone. Tried something a little different with this chapter. I thought it would be interesting to play around with Doctor Robbins a little, and who better to give Greg advice on coping than a man who obviously has done it? I don't recall ever hearing any back story on Robbins or his injuries in past episodes, so I made one up. Let me know what you think!
Greg was dead on his feet. He would never admit this to anyone, but he was bone tired. Grissom had left the lab just moments ago, summoned by pager, and Greg was relieved to see him leave. As much as he and Grissom seemed to understand each other lately, Greg knew Grissom would make him go home if he new how badly Greg felt right now.
Leaning weakly on the counter, he waited for the DNA test results to finish, vowing he was going to lie down in Grissom's office as soon as they printed. He closed his eyes and propped his head in his hands, letting his mind drift as he waited.
Doc Robbins watched him from the doorway momentarily. He had been on his way to the break room to get a cup of coffee, and had noticed Greg sitting in his lab. He was surprised to see Greg there, not having realized he would be allowed back to work so soon, and sighed in amusement and exasperation at Grissom. How many times had they spoken today? And Grissom hadn't mentioned anything. Robbins shook his head. Grissom was a brilliant scientist, but totally clueless sometimes.
"Hey Greg."
The sudden voice behind him made Greg jump straight up in the air, eyes popping open and air whooshing out of his lungs in surprise. His body shook a couple of times, and Robbins noted with concern the sudden pallor on the young mans face and the spasmodic twitching of his arms. Greg put a hand to his chest, grimacing. It was several moments before he could speak.
"Doctor Robbins." His voice was weak. Robbins had stepped further into the lab, noting the fine beads of sweat popping out on Greg's forehead. "Sorry about that, I didn't hear you. You scared the crap out of me."
"Sit down Greg, before you fall down. I'm sorry - I thought you heard me coming down the hallway." He frowned as he noted Greg still had a hand at his chest. "Is the implant reacting?"
Greg nodded as he sank into his chair. "I'll be fine. It just shocks me when the heartbeat gets too elevated. Please don't tell Grissom about this, he'll send me home."
"Maybe that's were you should be. You're back too early." Robbins leaned forward, checking Greg's pulse. "Still fast, but not too bad."
Greg pulled his wrist away in irritation. "I'm fine. I was going to go and rest anyway in Grissom's office. I'm just waiting for some DNA results, and then I'll go catch a 30 minute catnap or something."
Robbins raised an eyebrow at him. "Shouldn't you have a lead coat on?"
"I'll come and get one from you. I haven't used the bigger equipment yet, so no high grade electrical impulses. I already got the warning from Grissom." He tried to deflect the conversation away from himself, instead asking. "What are you doing? Don't see you in this neck of the woods much."
"I was going to get a coffee, and saw you in here. Thought I'd say hello." He glanced around the lab, scanning the various items before turning to Greg. "Sorry I couldn't make it for your dinner party yesterday, but it was my daughter's birthday. We went to Mezzanine." He paused, looking at Greg squarely, noticing his breathing was still choppy. "I think I should tell Grissom."
"No! No, please don't do that. He'll make me leave, and I couldn't stand it. I hate being by myself when everyone else is here - I -" he paused, before continuing. "I think too much. At least at work, I can contribute something, and it keeps me occupied."
Robbins sighed and pulled up a stool, sliding his arm brace to the side as he sat down. "Do you promise you'll go and rest?" Greg nodded, and Robbins sighed. "Okay. Fine - I won't say anything this time. But don't push yourself Greg. How do you think everyone will feel if you keel over in the lab?"
Greg nodded again, miserably. "I know. I just want to prove to them that I'm still the same - that I can still do the job." He paused, looking at Robbins arm brace. "How did you do it, after your accident? How did you cope? If you don't mind me asking."
"Do you know what happened to me, Greg?"
Greg shrugged. "I've heard theories." He squirmed uncomfortable at that, quickly adding, "Not that we gossip about you a lot, but you know - simple curiosity. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."
Robbins smiled. "Not much to tell. I lost my legs in a bike accident about 30 years ago. Some drunken idiot didn't see me and sideswiped me into a culvert. His car almost ripped my leg off. The other leg was so badly damaged in the fall, they didn't think they could save it. They tried, but infection and gangrene - well, it had to go. I was about the same age as you."
"Wow. I'm so sorry! How did you - what made you -"
"How did I cope?" Robbins offered, smiling when Greg blushed. "Its fine Greg, it was a long time ago. I didn't want to live, at first. I was so pissed off - I wanted my legs back. I was a miserable son of a bitch for about 6 months, snapping at everyone, refusing to do physical therapy. I basically started drowning my sorrows with Jack Daniels and Captain Morgan. I thought of different ways to kill myself, but I couldn't do it - Catholic angst, and all." Greg was listening intently, nodding in understanding.
"You know what changed it for me, Greg? I met my wife. And she wouldn't put up with my shit. For whatever reason, she decided she wanted me. I fought her tooth and nail, every step of the way. She'd show up to take me to therapy, she'd come to my apartment and crawl through the window if I wouldn't let her in - she'd yell at me, tell me to stop drinking, stop feeling sorry for yourself - move on!" Robbins chuckled. "She was a real pistol. And I hated her for it. But I went to physio., and I stopped drinking. And soon, I was walking again on prosthetic legs. She ended up moving in with me when I finally realized how much I loved her. And we've been together ever since."
Greg was staring intently at his hands as Robbins finished. "But sometimes - don't you wish -"
"If wishes were horses, Greg. What's the point in regretting what's happened? I can't change it. Before I lost my legs, you know what I did? I was a professional slacker. I'd drift from job to job, making enough money to get by before moving on. After I lost my legs - I met Judy. I took courses at school - I became a doctor at 38 years old. A little late to find my calling, I admit, but I never would have found it at all if I still had my legs. I'd probably be dead, or on skid row. And I have a great job that I love. And I have a family. What's to regret?"
Greg smiled slightly, "Well, when you put it that way." He looked at Robbins again, suddenly shy. "Do you think - well - do you think I'll ever find someone, who'll love me despite -" he waved his hands at his chest, suddenly silent.
Robbins reached out a firm hand, squeezing Greg's knee. "You'll find her. Or she'll find you. Just because you have a little implant to help your heart out sometimes doesn't mean anything. You're heart still works, and that's what's important. Whomever said the heart was the seat of all human emotion was wrong anyway - it's all the mind, and how you see people and how people see you. We all see you as someone pretty special, Greg. One day, so will the right girl."
The two men sat silently for a moment. Greg's breathing was back to normal, and his pallor had lifted somewhat. Robbins noted the fluttery pulse at the base of his throat was no longer visible, and he smiled.
"You're computer has stopped analyzing - or whatever it was doing. Does that mean the test is finished?"
"Yeah. It does." Greg smiled, and walked over to the monitor, quickly hitting print. "Griss is gonna love this. Female DNA. Our artistic letter makers are women."
Robbins looked at the letter Greg had casually waived at, reading it. "This the letter from the bar?"
Greg nodded absently, grabbing his print out. "Yeah." He walked over to Robbins and looked at the note again. "Sick, eh?"
"Grissom never mentioned anything about the Bible when he told me about this."
"Bible?" Greg's voice rose. "This is from the Bible?"
Robbins nodded. "Ten years of Sunday School and Catechism classes can't be wrong. I'm pretty sure it's Leviticus."
_____
Author's Note: Hey everyone. Tried something a little different with this chapter. I thought it would be interesting to play around with Doctor Robbins a little, and who better to give Greg advice on coping than a man who obviously has done it? I don't recall ever hearing any back story on Robbins or his injuries in past episodes, so I made one up. Let me know what you think!