Greg woke a few hours early the next day. With a little cajoling, Greg had
talked Dan into staying with him. Knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep,
Greg had sent Dan off to his apartment, stating he'd be home in a few
hours. Of course, he hadn't thought about the state of his apartment when
he'd convinced Dan to bunk at his place. The call he received shortly
after Dan left the station brought back the small reality that Greg was a
bit of a slob.
'I should be honest with myself,' Greg thought as he rinsed soap off in the shower, 'I'm a complete slob.'
He grinned thinking about coming home this morning and finding Dan sleeping between a stack of old Playboy magazines and a stack of empty pizza cartons. Unfortunately, they happened to be at each end of the couch.
Greg finished his shower, dressed, and went into the living room. Looking around in shock, he realized he could see his carpet. Eyebrows wide in wonder, he turned when he heard Dan rustle into the room, carrying a filled trash bag, obviously heading out to the trash bins.
"Wow," was all that came to Greg's mind.
Shaking his head and grinning, Dan expounded, "You know, I'd nearly forgotten what your room always looked like at home. I don't know how many times I heard your grandfather say if you ever moved he was just burning your room out." Laughing, he opened the door and headed outside.
When he came back in, Greg walked over, gave him a hug, and said, "Thanks" sweeping his arms to indicate the room. Then turning serious, he said, "Truly… thank you. You've been a great friend to me over the years. And in some ways, you've been like a father to me."
Choking back the lump in his throat, Dan pulled back slightly from the hug and put his hand on Greg's neck in a move of comfort. "You've been like a son to me, too. I think your parents would be proud of you. And I'm here with you no matter what. You've got a lot of people who will be there today to help you try to close this chapter of the book."
Pulling back, the two men regarded each other, emotion rising to the surface. Then Dan clasped Greg's shoulder. "Are you ready?"
"Yeah," Greg said, pulling out his keys. "Let's go. I need to get this over with."
Greg and Dan headed out the door. The man who'd killed his parents was in isolation at the station, waiting an interrogation from his victim. He'd arrived an hour before and would head out to California within a few hours. Greg would face him and finally get the chance to look into the dead eyes he saw in his worst nightmares.
'I should be honest with myself,' Greg thought as he rinsed soap off in the shower, 'I'm a complete slob.'
He grinned thinking about coming home this morning and finding Dan sleeping between a stack of old Playboy magazines and a stack of empty pizza cartons. Unfortunately, they happened to be at each end of the couch.
Greg finished his shower, dressed, and went into the living room. Looking around in shock, he realized he could see his carpet. Eyebrows wide in wonder, he turned when he heard Dan rustle into the room, carrying a filled trash bag, obviously heading out to the trash bins.
"Wow," was all that came to Greg's mind.
Shaking his head and grinning, Dan expounded, "You know, I'd nearly forgotten what your room always looked like at home. I don't know how many times I heard your grandfather say if you ever moved he was just burning your room out." Laughing, he opened the door and headed outside.
When he came back in, Greg walked over, gave him a hug, and said, "Thanks" sweeping his arms to indicate the room. Then turning serious, he said, "Truly… thank you. You've been a great friend to me over the years. And in some ways, you've been like a father to me."
Choking back the lump in his throat, Dan pulled back slightly from the hug and put his hand on Greg's neck in a move of comfort. "You've been like a son to me, too. I think your parents would be proud of you. And I'm here with you no matter what. You've got a lot of people who will be there today to help you try to close this chapter of the book."
Pulling back, the two men regarded each other, emotion rising to the surface. Then Dan clasped Greg's shoulder. "Are you ready?"
"Yeah," Greg said, pulling out his keys. "Let's go. I need to get this over with."
Greg and Dan headed out the door. The man who'd killed his parents was in isolation at the station, waiting an interrogation from his victim. He'd arrived an hour before and would head out to California within a few hours. Greg would face him and finally get the chance to look into the dead eyes he saw in his worst nightmares.