Author's Note: Okay, you guys truly rock. I seriously feel so loved. It's great. This song was inspired by a song by Smile Empty Soul. That is my new favorite CD, guys.
Chapter Four: Nowhere Kids (Good, Bad, Worse, Confusion)
-- Six Days Later --
Leila watched Greg toil over some blood he had just collected from a knife, as she herself should have been toiling over some sort of liquid sample, a brownish liquid that looked very familiar to her, she figured that it was Pepsi from the smell. But she couldn't help but center her attention toward Greg. He was so amazing, and no one gave him the credit that he'd most definitely earned. It was as though, five minutes after he began looking at the sample that he had, he already knew whose blood it was. All he wanted was to be on the field, but Grissom wouldn't give him that. It was beyond unfair. She could handle the DNA lab by herself. Greg had earned some respect, even on the field. He'd told her about a certain incident when if it hadn't been for his coin collection, and his help, they wouldn't have caught a murderer, and it was so hard to believe that after that, Grissom still hadn't let him on the field.
Leila listened carefully, as he hummed along with 'One Day at a Time' by Die Trying, and she heard how amazing his voice was. She leaned her head onto her hand and sighed. It was time for someone to give Greg the attention he deserved. Just as she said that, Warrick walked into the room and approached her. "Leila, do you have the results as to what that brown liquid is?" he asked with a somber expression on his face.
She huffed out a sigh at the fact that he didn't even seem to recognize how hard Greg was working on the blood sample. "Yeah," she nodded and held a piece of paper in front of her face. "It's Pepsi, but it was spiked with...um, some sort of organic poison or something..." she explained. "It was like that case Greg told me about, with the car salesman and the snake venom?"
Greg heard his name and looked up from the piece of paper he was staring at. "Huh?" he asked, apparently missing out on over half of the conversation, and only hearing from when his name was mentioned. "What about me, a car salesman and snake venom?"
Warrick took the paper from Leila's hand, without so much as a thank you, and walked over to Greg. "Remember that Marty Gibson case? With the snake venom?" he asked.
Greg nodded and looked away, going back into his own world, like he always seemed to do. Warrick didn't even seem to care, but Leila saw beyond the 'deep in my work' act. After Warrick brushed out of the room, she walked up to him and put a gentle hand on his shoulder; something she'd become famous for in Greg's eyes over the past few weeks. "Hey, Greg..." she looked right into his as usual. "What's the matter?"
He debated whether to tell her, but he knew that he should at least let her know a little something of the situation, since she'd been there for him ceaselessly over the past week and a half. "Ok, Leila. I haven't told anyone...not even Griss, Cath, Sara, Nick...Warrick, anyone...about this...so, please keep it between us," he told her, and once she nodded, he knew that it would be their little secret. He didn't even know where to begin. She needed to know the back-story. "Well...I need to go back into the past a little, so you'll get it. Don't interrupt me, because it's hard enough to talk about without having to start over, ok?"
She nodded and prepared to listen. "I wouldn't dream of it..." she rolled an office chair over beside Greg, who even though he was now speaking to her, was still staring wide-eyed at the DNA results.
He started his story, hoping he wouldn't get carried away and tell Leila everything. He hadn't ever told anybody everything, yet, anyway. "Okay, well, to begin, my last name isn't really Sanders. My birth name is Gregory Michael Andrews, but I was renamed twice before I finally got a good adoptive family. So, as you could probably assume, I was adopted at a young age. When I was about...three, I think. That's what my first family, the Moore's told me when I was nine, anyway. They told me that my real mom and dad died in a plane crash, and that their dying wish was for them to take me in...or some soap opera crap like that," he explained, the usual Greg grin now faded from his face. He looked to Leila's face to see her reaction, and was surprised to see that she wasn't even faltering from his side in the slightest. "Well, I found out when I was fifteen that the real reason my mom and dad put me up for adoption was that they didn't want me. They weren't quite ready for a kid yet, so they put me up for adoption or something like that..." he felt tears coming to his eyes. "Then, when I found out what really happened, they gave me up for adoption, and the Sanders' adopted me. They were pretty good to me. They got me into science and all that."
In the land of dirt and plaster, lies an army of a thousand nowhere kids.
Losing ground and falling faster, into a life that no one should have to live.
We are the people that you made. We are the bastards that you created.
A generation with no place. A generation of all your sons and daughters.
Leila blinked twice. "Oh my God, Greg. That's horrible. I am...so sorry!" she knew that the word sorry didn't even begin to cover the pain and horror of the situation Greg had been through, but she had to say something.
He shrugged and held the piece of paper out to Leila. "And, well...read the name that came up when I ran the most recent blood sample through CODIS...the missing person's database..." he watched as Leila's face changed from extremely worried to bewildered.
"Oh...Marie Moore...Greg, you don't think..." she paused and held the piece of paper away from her face for a second. "You really don't think that this is..."
Greg knew what she was thinking, and nodded. "My birth mother? Yeah, I do..." he bit his lower lip and let one of the tears resting itself in his eye drop down his cheek. "Do you think I'm insane?" he asked.
Leila shook her head. "No. I'm gonna help you look deeper into this, Greg. Do you want me to ask Grissom to put me on a need to know basis about this case? And then I'll tell you everything that he tells me?" she asked, placing a calming hand on Greg's hand.
He nodded and wrapped his arms around Leila in a warm hug. She was way too good to be true. "Thank you so much..." he let out his long held back tears. Why he was letting it all come down with Leila, he couldn't really tell, but she gave him a sense of security that no one else had ever been able to give to him. None of his 'mothers' or 'fathers' had made him feel safe, especially not safe enough to cry; but Leila managed to do it. She had a strange, comforting sincerity about her, and Greg could actually tell that she meant everything she said to him.
She hugged him back, relishing the fact that he trusted her. She had to make this go somewhere. Greg was too perfect to pass up. "Greg, why don't you take the rest of the day off? I can handle the lab..." she told him, knowing that he'd just been hit by a shock wave that he'd probably never fully recover from.
He shook his head and took Leila's hand. "No. I don't want to be by myself right now," he begged her, knowing that she'd understand. "I'm just gonna hang out here and keep working. It kind of calms me..."
She looked at her hand in his and nodded. She and Greg were actually sharing an emotional moment, and all she had to do was just be there for him, something she intended to do in the first place. "Okay, just make sure you and I are together at all times. You're really vulnerable right now, and you don't need to be shaken up at all..."
Catherine entered the room and looked at Greg. "Hey, Greg. Do you have the results from that knife yet?" she asked, not knowing she'd just hit a soft spot.
Greg did a lot better than Leila thought that he would, keeping his composure, though. "Yeah, here they are, Cath. The blood on the knife belongs to someone named Marie Moore..." he winced a little when he said the name Marie Moore. "And we still need to check for epithelials on the handle..."
Catherine looked at Leila. "We? You're helping him now? I thought you were working on Warrick, Nick and Sara's case with the guy who got poisoned or something..." she asked her.
Leila looked at the pleading look on Greg's face, and knew why he needed her so desperately. "No, I finished that anyway. Now, I'm a free agent, so I figure, why not help Greg out," she kept her wits about her, trying not to make it too obvious that something had just gone horribly wrong.
Catherine nodded and took the paper from Greg's hand. Somehow, just like a mother would, she got the idea that something was wrong, but she also got the feeling that it was something that Greg wanted to keep secret. "Okay, I'll come back to you guys later when you get the results from the epithelials..." she looked around. "Page me, okay?" she asked with a smile.
Leila and Greg both gave off smiles and nods to Catherine. As soon as she left, Greg got directly to work examining the handle of the knife. "Leila, could you swab that, please?" he handed her a cotton swab and a pair of rubber gloves, and showing her his pleading eyes.
Leila immediately got to work, taking a swab of the handle of the knife, praying for only one solid DNA match. "Here, Greg..." she handed the cotton swab to Greg and watched him put it in the machine. He was far beyond serious about this, and Leila was truly worried.
Behind the fake family image, behind the smiles of a thousand mom and dads,
Inside the cage that we've been given, I see an image of the future that we don't have.
We are the people that you made. We are the bastards that you created.
A generation with no place. A generation of all your sons and...
We are the people that you made. The fucking bastards that you created.
A generation with no place. A generation of all your sons and daughters.
After waiting fifteen minutes, the longest fifteen minutes of Greg's life, he watched as the machine started to print off the results of the DNA profile. He looked at Leila apprehensively, almost as though he were asking her to take the paper, in case it was too horrible for him to handle. Leila understood the gesture and took the paper from the machine, running the results through CODIS, and waiting for the match window to pop up.
As they waited, Greg nervously paced around the room, stopping only when Sara and Nick popped into the room to check up on them. Finally, about three seconds after Sara left, the 'match' window popped up. Greg's head raised from the floor, and Leila rushed to the computer. She gasped. "Oh...my God. Greg, I don't know if I want to let you see this. I don't know if you can take it..."
He looked into her eyes, pleading for her to tell him. "Leila, please? I just found out that one of my mothers is dead and I would like to know who killed her," he sort of snapped, not meaning to.
She bit her lower lip nervously and beckoned Greg over beside her. He obeyed and blinked twice at what he saw before him. She was right. He probably shouldn't have known. "Wait...so--my real mom...murdered my first adoptive mom?" he asked, seeming kind of shocked at the fact that the name Candy Andrews was across the screen. "I..." he paused, feeling tears come back to his eyes once again.
Leila instinctively wrapped her arms around Greg. "I am so sorry, Greg...I mean, that is so awful..." she kissed him on the cheek and put his head on her shoulder as he cried.
Greg pulled out of the hug and looked at Leila. "I...thank you for being here for me...I just...don't think I could have handled this without you..." he hugged her again and cried. "My...mom killed my mom..." he hesitated before saying that sentence. "I suppose you could call me the man with many mothers..." he let out a fake laugh.
Leila shook her head and let him cry on her shoulder. "I'll just call you Greg. No matter what I find out, you'll always be Greg. You're human, humans have some messed up flaws..." she winked at him. "Me being a prime example..."
Greg shook his head and pulled out of the hug again. "What flaw do you have? The flawless flaw?" he asked. He believed that Leila was human, only she was broken down to its most flawless form. She was perfect, and nothing anyone could say would tell her otherwise.
She tilted her head in anger and shook her head. "I am far from flawless, Greg. A case in point, I'm bossy..." she looked into his eyes and saw the tears start to go away. How he could be so strong was beyond her.
He seemed to be ignoring every word she was saying to him. She, in his mind, was flawless. He had just told her his deepest, darkest secret, and she was still right there with him. That, in his eyes, showed no flaw. She was perfect...and she was right there before him. Maybe it was just the fact that he didn't know what else to do at that point, or maybe it was the fact that he was truly attracted to her. Maybe it was even to thank her for being there for him. But what he did next was purely impulsive. His eyes traced over her face carefully, and stopped at her lips, and he got closer to her, pressing his lips to hers gently, and pushing his tongue into her mouth.
Leila closed her eyes and went along with the kiss, enjoying and savoring every second of it, but as soon as it was over, she yanked her body out of Greg arms and slapped him across the face. "How dare you? I offer my friendship and you...how DARE you?" she screamed, walking out of the lab and rushing to the bathroom.
Greg sat in the office chair, stunned partially because of the fact that he'd just kissed Leila, but also because he'd gotten the opposite reaction of what he'd expected. "What the...I thought..." he blinked twice and frowned. He'd assumed too quickly, and made a fool of himself, as usual. He'd thought Leila felt the same way he did, and apparently, he was wrong.
What did you expect, a perfect child? Raised by TV sets, abandoned every mile.
Never get respect, never a fair trial. No one gives a shit, as long as we smile.
We are the people that you made. We are the bastards that you created.
A generation with no place. A generation of all your sons and...
We are the people that you made. The fucking bastards that you created.
A generation with no place. A generation of all your sons and daughters.
Leila burst into the bathroom, to see Sara standing at the sink, washing her hands. She rushed past her sister and locked herself into a stall, an angry look in her eyes. "Stupid...what the HELL was he thinking?"
Sara looked concerned and walked over to the stall, knocking on the door. "Leila? Are you okay in there, sis?" she asked, knowing the answer before asking the question. "Or, should I say...what happened?" she asked.
Leila opened the door, showing Sara the angry look in her eyes. "Greg kissed me. That's what happened, Sara. He fucking kissed me. That asshole."
Sara looked confused. This was coming from the same woman who had told her a week prior to that day that she was sexually attracted to Greg, and now she was angry with him for kissing her? "Leila...I thought you liked Greg?" she asked, watching as Leila wiped tears from her eyes.
Leila nodded and splashed cold water onto her face, to rid her eyes of the red, swollenness. "I do like Greg. He just, kissed me for all the wrong reasons, Sara. He's going through something harsh, that I can't tell you about, and he...kissed me because of it."
Sara shook her head and put her hand on Leila's shoulder. "Sis! Greg likes you! I happen to know it for a fact! You need to go talk to him, and work this out..." she shoved her sister out of the bathroom.
"Wait...how do you know?" Leila asked, suddenly feeling an awful intuition overpowering her. "What's going on, Sara...what did I miss?" she asked.
Sara looked nervously at Leila. "Remember that talk we had the other day? I had one just like it with Greg...and he has feelings for you, Leila..." she paused, and in that second, they heard something like a crash, in the next room over. Sara instinctively hit the floor. "What was that?" she asked Leila.
Leila shushed Sara and listened closely in the next room over, now hearing something that sounded like a struggle. Leila gasped in realization of what the room next door was. "GREG!" she shrieked. She flung the door open. "Greg? ARE YOU IN HERE?" she yelled as she looked around, attracting everyone's attention, but saw nothing but a pool of blood in the middle of the floor and about a dozen broken beakers strewn all over the place...
~~
Author's Note: What happened to Greg now? Poor guy is just having a bad year, isn't he? Stay tuned for the next chapter. By the way, do you guys think this is too much drama for one chapter? If you do, I can go back and edit it.
