*****

"...I can't get no release

I'm shell shocked from some heavy blows
A stranger to the people I know
Who used to say, "He never had a down day"
Now I'm holding on to can't-let-goes
And silence brings no peace…"

--Third Eye Blind

Greg drops his bag inside the door of his apartment. He glances around and realizes that Lila has cleared out. He doesn't find a note where she usually leaves one. She's simply gone. He misses her, but he's used to losing people he loves so he refuses to mourn her departure. At least she survived. She's not dead, she simply is moving on. She deserves it.

He collapses on the sofa, picking up the cordless phone and checking his messages. Full mailbox. Lila never could figure out how to retrieve the messages, she barely comprehended caller i.d. She just wasn't technologically compatible. He shakes off the thoughts of Lila.

Greg's visit to Seattle was both cathartic and stressful. He put his parents, brother and sister in law, to rest in the family cemetery. The service was dramatic, lots of family friends and distant relatives showed up to offer their condolences. Greg didn't release any details as to how they died and dodged all questions about his disappearance years before and his reappearance now. He was stressed out when the funerals were over. He had lied to Lila. He was drinking again. He returned to his hotel to find that some of his old friends had tracked him down. When Greg was younger, he was part of a grunge band that hit the big time after he left. They were in town doing a show and saw the obituaries in the paper for Greg's family and used their connections to track him down. Greg spent the rest of his time while in Seattle with the band, playing as a guest with them at their concert and partying.

"Greg, why don't you quit your job and come play with us?" Harris had asked him the night before.

"You have a drummer, Harry," Greg had replied, not letting himself consider it.

"Yeah, but Jimmy's leaving us after this tour. He's got himself a wife and a kid now. He wants to take a year or so off, but we're hot now and our managers want us to keep putting out new stuff so we don't lose our edge. So what do you say? Those cops can't really need you that much…" Harris had replied.

Greg hadn't given Harris an answer. Now, back in Vegas, he wonders about Harris' offer. Travelling the country with some of his oldest friends, playing great music for millions of fans, seeing the world for himself…the thought is almost too good to be true. He shakes it off. He has to focus. He has to get ready for work. The lab. The concerned, pitying looks.

The lab had always been a place of peace for him. Sure, he handled delicate evidence in brutal and dramatic murder cases, but the routine of the lab testing that he does has always calmed him. He could forget about everything except the humming of the machinery and the pulsing music from the stereo. Lately, after the explosion, the lab is no longer comforting. He doesn't fear it, but he feels out of place. He doesn't belong there anymore.

Greg stands up and goes to get a shower. He has a responsibility to go to work and do his best. He hasn't drank in 24 hours but at least now with Lila gone, he has something to look forward to when he gets home.

*****

"…The city is dying
(at least to me)
The city is dead now…"

--Third Eye Blind

"Greg? You're back! Finally, someone with some common sense in the lab!" Sara sighs, obviously frustrated with the temp that is cowering in front of her.

"I don't know about common sense, but I am back in the lab," He smiles. She embraces him.

"You feeling better?" She asks, releasing him as the lab tech makes a quick exit.

"Yeah. I dropped the sling a couple of days ago and now I'm just being really careful. No heavy lifting or anything," Greg replies.

Sara nods, but gives him a curious look.

"How's Lila?" She asks.

"Not a real good subject today. I'm sure she's fine."

"You want to talk about it?" Sara offers.

"Not at all, actually. I'm just letting it go," Greg replies. "She's gone and that's what she wants. I'll get over it."

Sara frowns at him, concerned.

Greg grins. "Why, you want to make a play for me?"

She shoves him, playfully. "Stop it."

"So what do you have for me?" Greg asks, motioning to the samples in front of her.

Sara explains the tests she needs on the evidence she has and then leaves to go see Grissom. Greg gets to work, putting on a c.d. at a tolerable volume for the other workers. He gets a few minutes of peace without deep thought as he starts the machines for the testing.

"Greg."

Grissom's voice makes him jump, startling him.

"Hey, Gris. What's up?"

"Welcome back. Everything okay?"

"So far. You got specimens for me?" Greg asks.

"No, it's a slow night. When you get a minute, come see me in my office," Grissom says, leaving with a slight smile.

"That sounds like trouble," Warrick says, entering with Nick.

"Probably. Do you guys have specimens for me?" Greg asks.

"Nope. Just wanted to see if the rumors were true. You're back?"

"I'm standing here with my lab coat on aren't I? I'm definitely not doing it for the fashion statement," Greg replies.

"It's good to see you, kid. Everything okay?" Nick asks.

"Everything is falling back into place. Don't look so down, guys, its not like I'm terminally ill or anything," Greg smiles, trying to wipe the concerned look off their faces.

"I don't know about that. Where've you been?" Warrick asks.

"Seattle," Greg replies, quietly.

"What's in Seattle?" Nick asks quickly, trying to keep Greg talking.

"My family's from Seattle. I had to go take care of some things," Greg answers, honestly.

Warrick and Nick glance at each other. "Greg, you mean…"

"Funerals. Memorial services. Settling the estates and putting the houses up for sale to pay for the expenses. Family stuff," Greg answers, turning away to check on Sara's testing.

"Whoa. There was no one else that could take care of that for you?" Warrick questions.

"Nope. It needed to be done. Now it is. I ran into some old friends when I was there, they took pretty good care of me," Greg says.

"Sara said you were partying pretty hard when she talked to you," Warrick says, trying to break the growing tension.

"Ever heard of Green Vortex?" Greg asks, relaxing slightly as he sits down on a stool.

"That's that metal band, right? They've got some pretty deep stuff out there," Nick acknowledges.

"I used to play with them before everyone knew their name. They're pretty hard core. They were my family in all the ways that mattered back then. They always had my back," Greg replies.

"Sounds like good friends," Nick replies.

"They were. They are," Greg says quietly.

"They invite you to join the band or something?" Warrick asks, joking.

Greg's face closes up and Warrick realizes that he must have been close to the truth.

"Really? Wow, Greg…wow…" Nick gasps. "But…"

"Look. Can we forget all this? I have some work to do," Greg says, suddenly as Sara's results start to beep.

"Sure, Greggo. You want to meet for coffee later?" Nick asks.

"We'll see," Greg replies, trying to focus on his task and shake off the tension building in his muscles.

Warrick and Nick leave after a few moments and Greg is alone.

His hands aren't shaking. He is in control. He will not let their pity or their concern penetrate his defenses. Greg has control. When he turns around, Catherine is standing in the doorway, watching him, silently.

"Catherine? You need help with something?" Greg asks, keeping his voice even.

She frowns at him, closing the door behind her. "Yeah, actually I do."

"What's up?" Greg asks, curious.

"Why don't you tell me?" Catherine replies.

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, I've heard from Sara that you and Lila have broken up. And I hear from Nick and Warrick that…"

"I know what I told them," Greg responds.

"Okay, then. Talk to me now," Catherine says, sitting down.

"It seems like you know everything already," Greg replies, sitting down across from her as he gathers Sara's papers.

"Greg. Do you plan on talking to anybody about what happened?"

"It's done now. All the loose ends are tied up. I'm attempting to pick my life up where I left it and keep on going," Greg replies, meeting her gaze with eyes of stone.

"I see through you, Greg. Your hands aren't shaking. You aren't giving anything away, are you?" Catherine replies, evenly.

"That's my way," Greg replies. "I can take care of myself, Cath. I've been doing it a long time. I appreciate your concern, though. It's nice."

"Okay. I can see I'm not getting through to you…" Catherine says, frustrated.

"No, Cath. I mean it. I know you care. I'm sorry that I can't break down and sob in your arms. That's not me," Greg says, quietly.

Catherine nods slowly. "Can I ask you something?"

"I'll try and give you an honest answer," Greg replies.

"Are you drinking?"

"Catherine. Don't ask me that," Greg responds, turning away to grab more papers that are printing off.

"Greg. Don't make me ask you again."

"Yes. I am. Not tonight. I knew I had to work so I didn't. But when I get home, I can't promise that I won't have a nightcap to make the sleep come," Greg replies, honestly, meeting her eyes.

"So you think it's under control?"

"For the moment," Greg answers. "I've been down that road, Cath. I know where it ends. I haven't forgotten the blackouts and the accidents. Waking up, hungover in a different state. I've done it all. I don't plan on doing it again."

Catherine nods. "You can't plan out something like that."

"I'm okay, Catherine. Really," Greg says, quietly.

"But you're still thinking about leaving us?" Catherine questions.

"I…I've had an offer for something different," Greg replies.

"You're good at what you do. The best, Greg. You show promise and you shouldn't give up…" Catherine begins.

"Look, Catherine. I don't give up. Ever. But people change. Goals change. I know I'm good at my job, but its possible that this job isn't good for me anymore," Greg says, suddenly. "I'm just playing it by ear right now."

"Okay. I guess I've bothered you enough, Greggo…"

"No bother. Can you take these to Sara? I'm supposed to chat with Grissom when I get a minute," Greg replies, handing her a stack of papers.

"Good luck," Catherine smiles, accepting the papers.

Greg walks with her a few steps before pausing outside of Grissom's office. He starts to knock but Gris' voice invites him in before he can contact the door with his fist.

"Close the door, Greg," Grissom says as Greg enters.

"Sure," Greg says, obeying. He sits down, anxiously in a chair across from Grissom but quickly replaces his anxiety with calm. "Am I in trouble?"

"Are you?"

"I hope not. I've had enough trouble lately. What's up with the conference?" Greg replies.

"It seems as if I owe you an apology. You've always been an asset to our team here and we've taken you for granted," Grissom says, quietly.

"Whoa, just stop right there, Gris. I don't know what the guys told you but…" Greg starts.

"The guys haven't told me anything. I haven't had a chance to talk to you since the shooting. Is there something I should know or can I continue?" Grissom asks, unruffled by Greg's outburst.

"Go ahead, then," Greg replies.

"Okay. As I was saying, we've taken you for granted. You always seem to be here when we need you, taking double shifts and filling in when the other techs fall short. I glanced over your file and you've never taken time off except for the explosion and the shooting," Gris puts down his file and looks at Greg, seriously. "You are a part of our team regardless of how we treat you. It took you being gone for us, or more importantly me, to realize it. I…I should have known about your family. I should have known about your history…"

Greg's face has turned to stone.

"Greg?"

"I'm listening," He answers, coldly.

"I'm not good at this. But if you need to talk or if there's anything that I can do…"

"Okay, Gris. We done?" Greg asks, standing up.

Grissom is surprised by the younger man's reaction. "Yeah. I guess so."

"Okay. I'm going to check back and see if there's any evidence needing my attention," Greg says, walking from the room.

"Well, I guess that went well," Grissom remarks to himself.