"It's nice to meet you," Dan interjected. "Greg's told me a great deal
about you over the past few years."
Dan held his hand out to Gil Grissom. "I know Greg has the utmost respect for you. It's one of the things that drew him away from the bay area several years ago. And I know from his letters and phone calls," he said as he scanned the intent faces around him, "that he holds you all in great admiration."
Settling back in his chair, Dan continued to study the faces in the room, noting the patience and concern in each. Silently he nodded to himself in approval. Greg had found his home. And from the looks of it, his home was about to be rocked on the foundation. Dan sat back in his chair and waited for Greg to step into the nightmares that haunted him.. had haunted him all these years.
Taking a calming breath, Greg began to slowly explain. His voice turned a bit more high-pitched as he stepped back into his childhood.
~20 years earlier~
"You forgot to thank your grandma for that beautiful cake," she said, a stern look to her mouth and a distinct twinkle in her eye. "You must be sure to do so tomorrow."
"Okay, mom. But I didn't care that it was beautiful. It was GOOOOODDDDDDDD!"
Twirling in circles while jumping turned out to be a bit too much, as Greg began to weave and pitch forward.
Catching him in the nick of time, Greg's dad hauled the squealing boy up over his shoulder, carrying him like a sack of potatoes. For those looking on, there would have been no doubt that the laughing family sauntering down the street was happy. That they would continue to be happy.
"Mom," Greg asked, hanging half upside-down from his father's shoulder, "How long til I get my baby brother?"
Patting her oversized stomach, his mother replied, "About three more weeks and he or she will be totally cooked."
As he was dropped to his feet, Greg pondered thoughtfully, "It'll be a boy. I know it'll be a boy. I hate girls and God wouldn't make me have a baby sister, cause I hate girls."
With that bit of logic dispensed with utmost authority, Greg began skipping down the street.
Greg's parents looked at one another, and fought the laughter rising in both. Putting his hand around his wife's back for a bit of support, Greg's father whispered, "Personally.. I wouldn't mind a little girl."
Less than a minute later, the trio stood upon the steps of their home. Greg restlessly moved from foot to foot while his father slipped the key into the lock and opened the front door. In a matter of minutes, Greg's parents would be dead and he would be in the hospital, near death from five stab wounds to his chest and stomach.
Dan held his hand out to Gil Grissom. "I know Greg has the utmost respect for you. It's one of the things that drew him away from the bay area several years ago. And I know from his letters and phone calls," he said as he scanned the intent faces around him, "that he holds you all in great admiration."
Settling back in his chair, Dan continued to study the faces in the room, noting the patience and concern in each. Silently he nodded to himself in approval. Greg had found his home. And from the looks of it, his home was about to be rocked on the foundation. Dan sat back in his chair and waited for Greg to step into the nightmares that haunted him.. had haunted him all these years.
Taking a calming breath, Greg began to slowly explain. His voice turned a bit more high-pitched as he stepped back into his childhood.
~20 years earlier~
"You forgot to thank your grandma for that beautiful cake," she said, a stern look to her mouth and a distinct twinkle in her eye. "You must be sure to do so tomorrow."
"Okay, mom. But I didn't care that it was beautiful. It was GOOOOODDDDDDDD!"
Twirling in circles while jumping turned out to be a bit too much, as Greg began to weave and pitch forward.
Catching him in the nick of time, Greg's dad hauled the squealing boy up over his shoulder, carrying him like a sack of potatoes. For those looking on, there would have been no doubt that the laughing family sauntering down the street was happy. That they would continue to be happy.
"Mom," Greg asked, hanging half upside-down from his father's shoulder, "How long til I get my baby brother?"
Patting her oversized stomach, his mother replied, "About three more weeks and he or she will be totally cooked."
As he was dropped to his feet, Greg pondered thoughtfully, "It'll be a boy. I know it'll be a boy. I hate girls and God wouldn't make me have a baby sister, cause I hate girls."
With that bit of logic dispensed with utmost authority, Greg began skipping down the street.
Greg's parents looked at one another, and fought the laughter rising in both. Putting his hand around his wife's back for a bit of support, Greg's father whispered, "Personally.. I wouldn't mind a little girl."
Less than a minute later, the trio stood upon the steps of their home. Greg restlessly moved from foot to foot while his father slipped the key into the lock and opened the front door. In a matter of minutes, Greg's parents would be dead and he would be in the hospital, near death from five stab wounds to his chest and stomach.