Rating: G (So far at least)
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. I wish.
Summary: A REALISTIC view of the CSI's in high school. No relationships, and everyone gets their POV included. Including Greg. I'm basically following one CSI as they come into contact with one another. I don't know if that's very clear at all but.
I made up (most) of the stuff about their past, and I have no idea where this school is, but somewhere where it's cold in the winter. Please review, I need encouragement!
The weight seemed to push down on him, and Warrick wished he could just sink into the floor. He fiddled with his thick glasses, the object of his torture. This ashamed feeling wasn't new. He couldn't ever remember a time where the glasses did weigh down on him. He could almost feel everyone else's eyes staring at him. He felt like he had a giant bulls eye plastered across his forehead whenever he had them on, a prime target to bully.
He did know how to handle himself, he was sure he could've taken Matt on. And although he hadn't really wanted to fight... he knew that the only way to get people to leave him alone was to prove that he could fight. And he could fight well. Because while others may be taller, or weigh more, or were more muscled, Warrick had first hand experience.
He came back to his senses long enough to check where he was. Still plenty of time to reminisce. He looked back to the floor and his glasses slipped down his nose. He pushed them back up, only to have them slip again. He gave up on them and just left them there.
First hand experience. Such a neat and tidy phrase that referred to all of his very messy, usually painful, battles. Most of them weren't worth the trouble. Like he'd told Nick, he didn't really want to fight. But when you spend so much time on the streets you make enemies very easily. And why did he spend so much time on the streets? The simplest answer? Money. An explanation? His job, as a runner for the casinos.
Running was fairly easy. You get the bet from "The Man" in your earpiece. You place the bet in the casinos. You get paid. Easy right? Not so easy.
All the runners were always fighting for the upper hand, himself included. But unlike many of the others, he wouldn't try to kill anyone to get it. He had to defend his route, as well as his life, by fighting. Only once had he had a very, very close call.
Most of his fights had been one on one, and were as fair as street fights could get. But one time... He'd gotten jumped late at night on the way to a casino. Not that unusual, but this time, his assailant had a gun. Warrick knew very well that he should've died that day.
The guy walked up to him, pointing the gun. Warrick noticed that he was as old as him, maybe even younger, and that his hand was shaking. The other noticed this as well and raised his other hand to steady it. He was in the middle of the street when the car came.
One of its headlights had broken, and Warrick wondered for one dazed second if this was the light at the end of the tunnel. The dark shape rammed into the other runner, tossing him onto the windshield. Later, Warrick relived the crack he heard over and over. And still he wondered if it had come from a snapping leg, or a fractured skull.
He didn't stick around to find out. He paused for a second after it'd happened, just as the driver probably did. Then he bolted, hoping no one had seen him. He was very thankful that he'd walked on the sidewalk, just like his grandmother had always told him to.
Ah, yes, his grandmother. Sometimes he thought that she was the only reason he had to live, other times he felt that she was the most annoying person in the world, but that was very rarely. His grandmother had been his savior, the only person he could always count on. She'd taken him in after his mother died, but even before then they'd been close.
She'd been the one that patiently explained to him that no, he didn't have a father. His mother hadn't had the courage to tell him herself. Warrick guessed that his mom was of the opinion that if she didn't talk about it, it didn't happen in the first place. He wasn't sure what happened between his mother and father, but he did know that he must've left when Warrick was very young. He couldn't even remember what his dad looked like.
Everything was fine in his life until his mother died when he was seven. His grades were good, no one teased him about his glasses, and he even had friends. His life was perfect, his dreams unclouded, his mind still filled with a child's innocence. Until the car crash at least.
He could still remember it perfectly, even after so many years. He and his mother were heading home after a late-night baseball game. Those baseball games were one of the few things that brought his mom and him together for some much needed quality time. They got in the car, and left for the house they shared with his grandmother. Only later did he remember that his mom had forgotten to put on her seatbelt. Warrick was looking out the window when he spotted a fast food place, advertising a giant ice cream sundae. Predictably, he eagerly asked his mother if he could get something, and proceeded to describe in minute detail exactly how hungry he was, and what would happen if he didn't get something to eat. Predictably, his mom turned to give him a big fat no.
She never got the chance.
Just then a car came careening around a corner. Still facing him, his mom only had time for her eyes to widen, then for her face to twist in a wordless scream. A crushing impact then darkness.
Predictably, it was a drunk driver. He'd heard a lot about them, seen a few accidents caused by them before, but never did he think that one might happen to him. They did catch the driver and put him away in jail, but that didn't change the fact that his mother was dead.
After that night everything changed. Well, everything but the kindness of his grandmother. The only way that Warrick could have dreamless sleep was if he exhausted himself completely before hand. At first he'd done this easily enough with a jog around the block before he went to sleep. But eventually his body adjusted and he had to run farther and farther before he could get to sleep. He took up boxing. He'd go to the gym to practice late at night, the punching bag his favorite exercise. He'd take out all his anger on it. Hitting it over, and over, and over. He noticed that after he was at it for a while he'd go into a sort of trance. His whole world would be made up of him, his gloves, and the punching bag.
He also tried team sports, but that didn't go so well. He just couldn't get that same trance-like feeling when he was playing with other people around.
Only one other thing reproduced that feeling. Piano. He'd taken piano lessons for as long as he could remember, but after his mom's death he came at them with a new ferocity. When he could finally play that new piece perfectly... that was the best feeling he'd ever had. When he was playing he didn't really think about it. His fingers knew exactly what to do, and his mind was free to just listen to the music. It was one of the two ways that he could release all of his anger.
He was only 7 though. So much anger couldn't survive in such a small child. He'd been going one-on-one with the punching bag, just like he did every night, when he just... broke. One second he was furiously punching, the next he was clinging to the bag just to stay upright, crying like he never had before. All his anger left him that night to be replaced by... what? Resolution? Grief? Maybe a bit of both.
Warrick paused in his reflection to take a look at where he was. Seeing the other kids reminded him of his fight with Matt. And his short conversation with Nick afterwards.
He still was wondering how Nick understood that he might want to let his anger out on Matt. He didn't really, not on an actual person, but he couldn't expect Nick to understand about the pecking order, and how you had to prove yourself. What he really wanted to know, is how come Nick, Nick of all people, would want to take out his anger on someone. Now, Warrick didn't hang out with him or anything, but he did know that Nick was pretty much perfect. He had good grades, good looks, and a good sense of humor.
What could cause any anger in his life? Warrick left the topic alone for the moment. He wasn't going to start delving into Nick's private life the first time he really talked to him.
"Yeah... something like that..."
There was a heavy silence after Warrick made his softly spoken reply. Franticly he searched for anything to talk about, anything at all. Ah, the dance was a good topic.
"So, are you going to the dance tonight?"
"I'm not sure if I can make it or not..."
Immediately after he'd asked if Nick was coming he regretted saying anything about it. Nick's half-mumbled answer showed that he didn't really want to talk about it.
Warrick knew that he should've kept quiet, changed the subject, anything other than what he did end up saying. But, the curiosity about Nick from earlier made him push to see more of the "real" Nick.
"Oh c'mon, it'll be fun!"
He could barely make out Nick's reply, seeing as it was being said to his shoes.
"Yeah... Fun..."
Warrick didn't want to cause this sad, depressed Nick anymore. He spared Nick the need to bare his soul any further with a silly, implausible explanation.
"Is it just that you can't dance?"
Nick didn't say anything, as if testing to see if another revealing reply would be needed to answer Warrick.
Warrick continued with the supposedly revealing explanation of Nick's fear of the dance. He hoped that Nick would just think that that's what Warrick actually believed. He knew that something much deeper was going on here, and Nick just wasn't ready to tell him yet. He extended his answer to include an intro to an invitation.
"That's it isn't it! You have two left feet so you don't want to come! You don't even have to actually dance with anyone if you don't want to."
"I don't? Isn't that what a dance is about?"
Warrick wondered how Nick could be so smart about some things, but so dumb about others. Most people knew that a dance was basically a big party. He wondered if Nick didn't know, because he'd never been to a dance before.
"Well, mostly, but if you don't want to, you could just hang out with me and listen to the music."
"Won't you be dancing as well?"
Warrick recalled this part with his glasses weighing down on him more than usual.
"Yeah right, it's not like I have much of a chance of getting anyone to dance with me."
He also wondered how he could joke about one of his greatest grievances.
"I'll see if I can make it."
"I look forward to seeing you there!"
They'd exchanged their farewells and went their separate ways.
Warrick came back to reality and looked up, just in time to run into a girl head on. And not just any girl. It was THE girl. The one that everyone talked about, that everyone lusted over. Well, all of the guys he knew anyway. She had dirty blonde hair, and wide expressive eyes, with a figure to die for. And she was tall. A bit too tall if you asked him. She was just the right height for him to run right into her chest.
He'd never been so embarrassed in her life. He flushed red and hoped his dark skin would hide it. Mumbling an apology, Warrick walked swiftly away. Once he was sufficiently distanced from the girl, he thought about what had just happened.
And all he could think of was that Nick would've done so much better than him. Nick would've said sorry clearly, for everyone to hear. And he wouldn't have to run away. Nick would have stayed to chat with her.
Immediately he caught a hold of himself. What was he thinking? Nick wasn't perfect, no one was. Maybe he just needed to spend a bit more time with Nick so that he could really be sure of that..
He'd finally arrived at his destination - the chemistry room. He slowed to stand just outside the closed door. Fiddling with his ever-present glasses, Warrick shifted from foot to foot nervously. He wiped his clammy hands on his jeans, then opened the door and walked inside.
His head was held high, even with the tremendous weight of his glasses.
Everyone: Listen everybody, 'cause I need your help! Big time! I did some research on Catherine (which is coming up next you might have guessed), and nothing really happens to her until she's 20 (That's when she started her stripping to pay for college). Now I've been reaching deep into my big-bag- o-bad things, but I can't find anything that's really suitable for Catherine. Addiction? Catherine does get a Heroine addiction after her relationship with Eddie, but I can't see her falling for that twice in her life. Same thing with an abusive relationship. And it just doesn't seem in character for her to have low self-esteem. Can anyone think of anything at all that might work? Otherwise either the next chapter will be very short and boring, or it might not get written at all. Help!
A Bloom: I'm not going to include any romance, so no Geek Love for you to worry about!
Csifan2000: Yes, I do know that this whole high school thing would never have actually happened, but. What can I say? I was looking for someway that the chapters could flow together reasonably well, and I also wanted the last chapter to have all the characters interacting.
Sorry I didn't write personalized replies for every one of you, but I really wanted to get this out there soon. Thank you all for your reviews!
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me. I wish.
Summary: A REALISTIC view of the CSI's in high school. No relationships, and everyone gets their POV included. Including Greg. I'm basically following one CSI as they come into contact with one another. I don't know if that's very clear at all but.
I made up (most) of the stuff about their past, and I have no idea where this school is, but somewhere where it's cold in the winter. Please review, I need encouragement!
The weight seemed to push down on him, and Warrick wished he could just sink into the floor. He fiddled with his thick glasses, the object of his torture. This ashamed feeling wasn't new. He couldn't ever remember a time where the glasses did weigh down on him. He could almost feel everyone else's eyes staring at him. He felt like he had a giant bulls eye plastered across his forehead whenever he had them on, a prime target to bully.
He did know how to handle himself, he was sure he could've taken Matt on. And although he hadn't really wanted to fight... he knew that the only way to get people to leave him alone was to prove that he could fight. And he could fight well. Because while others may be taller, or weigh more, or were more muscled, Warrick had first hand experience.
He came back to his senses long enough to check where he was. Still plenty of time to reminisce. He looked back to the floor and his glasses slipped down his nose. He pushed them back up, only to have them slip again. He gave up on them and just left them there.
First hand experience. Such a neat and tidy phrase that referred to all of his very messy, usually painful, battles. Most of them weren't worth the trouble. Like he'd told Nick, he didn't really want to fight. But when you spend so much time on the streets you make enemies very easily. And why did he spend so much time on the streets? The simplest answer? Money. An explanation? His job, as a runner for the casinos.
Running was fairly easy. You get the bet from "The Man" in your earpiece. You place the bet in the casinos. You get paid. Easy right? Not so easy.
All the runners were always fighting for the upper hand, himself included. But unlike many of the others, he wouldn't try to kill anyone to get it. He had to defend his route, as well as his life, by fighting. Only once had he had a very, very close call.
Most of his fights had been one on one, and were as fair as street fights could get. But one time... He'd gotten jumped late at night on the way to a casino. Not that unusual, but this time, his assailant had a gun. Warrick knew very well that he should've died that day.
The guy walked up to him, pointing the gun. Warrick noticed that he was as old as him, maybe even younger, and that his hand was shaking. The other noticed this as well and raised his other hand to steady it. He was in the middle of the street when the car came.
One of its headlights had broken, and Warrick wondered for one dazed second if this was the light at the end of the tunnel. The dark shape rammed into the other runner, tossing him onto the windshield. Later, Warrick relived the crack he heard over and over. And still he wondered if it had come from a snapping leg, or a fractured skull.
He didn't stick around to find out. He paused for a second after it'd happened, just as the driver probably did. Then he bolted, hoping no one had seen him. He was very thankful that he'd walked on the sidewalk, just like his grandmother had always told him to.
Ah, yes, his grandmother. Sometimes he thought that she was the only reason he had to live, other times he felt that she was the most annoying person in the world, but that was very rarely. His grandmother had been his savior, the only person he could always count on. She'd taken him in after his mother died, but even before then they'd been close.
She'd been the one that patiently explained to him that no, he didn't have a father. His mother hadn't had the courage to tell him herself. Warrick guessed that his mom was of the opinion that if she didn't talk about it, it didn't happen in the first place. He wasn't sure what happened between his mother and father, but he did know that he must've left when Warrick was very young. He couldn't even remember what his dad looked like.
Everything was fine in his life until his mother died when he was seven. His grades were good, no one teased him about his glasses, and he even had friends. His life was perfect, his dreams unclouded, his mind still filled with a child's innocence. Until the car crash at least.
He could still remember it perfectly, even after so many years. He and his mother were heading home after a late-night baseball game. Those baseball games were one of the few things that brought his mom and him together for some much needed quality time. They got in the car, and left for the house they shared with his grandmother. Only later did he remember that his mom had forgotten to put on her seatbelt. Warrick was looking out the window when he spotted a fast food place, advertising a giant ice cream sundae. Predictably, he eagerly asked his mother if he could get something, and proceeded to describe in minute detail exactly how hungry he was, and what would happen if he didn't get something to eat. Predictably, his mom turned to give him a big fat no.
She never got the chance.
Just then a car came careening around a corner. Still facing him, his mom only had time for her eyes to widen, then for her face to twist in a wordless scream. A crushing impact then darkness.
Predictably, it was a drunk driver. He'd heard a lot about them, seen a few accidents caused by them before, but never did he think that one might happen to him. They did catch the driver and put him away in jail, but that didn't change the fact that his mother was dead.
After that night everything changed. Well, everything but the kindness of his grandmother. The only way that Warrick could have dreamless sleep was if he exhausted himself completely before hand. At first he'd done this easily enough with a jog around the block before he went to sleep. But eventually his body adjusted and he had to run farther and farther before he could get to sleep. He took up boxing. He'd go to the gym to practice late at night, the punching bag his favorite exercise. He'd take out all his anger on it. Hitting it over, and over, and over. He noticed that after he was at it for a while he'd go into a sort of trance. His whole world would be made up of him, his gloves, and the punching bag.
He also tried team sports, but that didn't go so well. He just couldn't get that same trance-like feeling when he was playing with other people around.
Only one other thing reproduced that feeling. Piano. He'd taken piano lessons for as long as he could remember, but after his mom's death he came at them with a new ferocity. When he could finally play that new piece perfectly... that was the best feeling he'd ever had. When he was playing he didn't really think about it. His fingers knew exactly what to do, and his mind was free to just listen to the music. It was one of the two ways that he could release all of his anger.
He was only 7 though. So much anger couldn't survive in such a small child. He'd been going one-on-one with the punching bag, just like he did every night, when he just... broke. One second he was furiously punching, the next he was clinging to the bag just to stay upright, crying like he never had before. All his anger left him that night to be replaced by... what? Resolution? Grief? Maybe a bit of both.
Warrick paused in his reflection to take a look at where he was. Seeing the other kids reminded him of his fight with Matt. And his short conversation with Nick afterwards.
He still was wondering how Nick understood that he might want to let his anger out on Matt. He didn't really, not on an actual person, but he couldn't expect Nick to understand about the pecking order, and how you had to prove yourself. What he really wanted to know, is how come Nick, Nick of all people, would want to take out his anger on someone. Now, Warrick didn't hang out with him or anything, but he did know that Nick was pretty much perfect. He had good grades, good looks, and a good sense of humor.
What could cause any anger in his life? Warrick left the topic alone for the moment. He wasn't going to start delving into Nick's private life the first time he really talked to him.
"Yeah... something like that..."
There was a heavy silence after Warrick made his softly spoken reply. Franticly he searched for anything to talk about, anything at all. Ah, the dance was a good topic.
"So, are you going to the dance tonight?"
"I'm not sure if I can make it or not..."
Immediately after he'd asked if Nick was coming he regretted saying anything about it. Nick's half-mumbled answer showed that he didn't really want to talk about it.
Warrick knew that he should've kept quiet, changed the subject, anything other than what he did end up saying. But, the curiosity about Nick from earlier made him push to see more of the "real" Nick.
"Oh c'mon, it'll be fun!"
He could barely make out Nick's reply, seeing as it was being said to his shoes.
"Yeah... Fun..."
Warrick didn't want to cause this sad, depressed Nick anymore. He spared Nick the need to bare his soul any further with a silly, implausible explanation.
"Is it just that you can't dance?"
Nick didn't say anything, as if testing to see if another revealing reply would be needed to answer Warrick.
Warrick continued with the supposedly revealing explanation of Nick's fear of the dance. He hoped that Nick would just think that that's what Warrick actually believed. He knew that something much deeper was going on here, and Nick just wasn't ready to tell him yet. He extended his answer to include an intro to an invitation.
"That's it isn't it! You have two left feet so you don't want to come! You don't even have to actually dance with anyone if you don't want to."
"I don't? Isn't that what a dance is about?"
Warrick wondered how Nick could be so smart about some things, but so dumb about others. Most people knew that a dance was basically a big party. He wondered if Nick didn't know, because he'd never been to a dance before.
"Well, mostly, but if you don't want to, you could just hang out with me and listen to the music."
"Won't you be dancing as well?"
Warrick recalled this part with his glasses weighing down on him more than usual.
"Yeah right, it's not like I have much of a chance of getting anyone to dance with me."
He also wondered how he could joke about one of his greatest grievances.
"I'll see if I can make it."
"I look forward to seeing you there!"
They'd exchanged their farewells and went their separate ways.
Warrick came back to reality and looked up, just in time to run into a girl head on. And not just any girl. It was THE girl. The one that everyone talked about, that everyone lusted over. Well, all of the guys he knew anyway. She had dirty blonde hair, and wide expressive eyes, with a figure to die for. And she was tall. A bit too tall if you asked him. She was just the right height for him to run right into her chest.
He'd never been so embarrassed in her life. He flushed red and hoped his dark skin would hide it. Mumbling an apology, Warrick walked swiftly away. Once he was sufficiently distanced from the girl, he thought about what had just happened.
And all he could think of was that Nick would've done so much better than him. Nick would've said sorry clearly, for everyone to hear. And he wouldn't have to run away. Nick would have stayed to chat with her.
Immediately he caught a hold of himself. What was he thinking? Nick wasn't perfect, no one was. Maybe he just needed to spend a bit more time with Nick so that he could really be sure of that..
He'd finally arrived at his destination - the chemistry room. He slowed to stand just outside the closed door. Fiddling with his ever-present glasses, Warrick shifted from foot to foot nervously. He wiped his clammy hands on his jeans, then opened the door and walked inside.
His head was held high, even with the tremendous weight of his glasses.
Everyone: Listen everybody, 'cause I need your help! Big time! I did some research on Catherine (which is coming up next you might have guessed), and nothing really happens to her until she's 20 (That's when she started her stripping to pay for college). Now I've been reaching deep into my big-bag- o-bad things, but I can't find anything that's really suitable for Catherine. Addiction? Catherine does get a Heroine addiction after her relationship with Eddie, but I can't see her falling for that twice in her life. Same thing with an abusive relationship. And it just doesn't seem in character for her to have low self-esteem. Can anyone think of anything at all that might work? Otherwise either the next chapter will be very short and boring, or it might not get written at all. Help!
A Bloom: I'm not going to include any romance, so no Geek Love for you to worry about!
Csifan2000: Yes, I do know that this whole high school thing would never have actually happened, but. What can I say? I was looking for someway that the chapters could flow together reasonably well, and I also wanted the last chapter to have all the characters interacting.
Sorry I didn't write personalized replies for every one of you, but I really wanted to get this out there soon. Thank you all for your reviews!
