I just want to say thanks to: Brandywine421, iheartcsi, *&^%$#, heebiejeebie, icanreadncount, Elanah, annie, csifan1, wolf-sister, Silver Mirror, jamie, jd burns, Shuna B, Roses, ScifiSand, Lady Lenna, Sandersgirl, sparkycola1, Caspian Raider, The Shadow Wolf, SandersLover, Dare-Sonar, Elina, Sophia Prester, csi-chick1, jamie, DixieHellcat, jcsangel88, greggy love, The Mysterious M, A Bloom and Steph --- and anyone else who's reviewed. They're all greatly appreciated.
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Greg sat on a hard moulded plastic chair in Starbucks, waiting. Nick had called him, and asked if they could meet up before work. Greg had reluctantly accepted.
He was early, more out of choice than anticipation. He needed to take his tablets. They were no longer linked to the agonising 'should I –shouldn't I' decision.
It wasn't just one tablet – he had to take both Sinemet and Eldepryl together. It was actually slightly disconcerting – he only took Eldepryl to reduce the side effects of the Sinemet.
He swallowed them; but it felt as though they lingered in his throat.
He didn't see Nick, until he sat opposite. He'd been in his own world again.
Nick remained silent, he didn't even look at Greg, he just sat there, head down, face turned away.
"You called?" Greg said suspiciously, breaking the silence.
Nick looked up, dark patches hung beneath his eyes; he looked like he hadn't shaven, and his eyes lids were Fasciculating, probably due to lack of sleep.
"Man, you look rough, night on the town?" Greg said, slightly sympathetically – the thought of Nick going out drinking to forget his problems – to forget him – worried him slightly.
"Kinda. Don't remember much of it." He said dismissed. "We need to talk." He said hurriedly, but the words hung in the air.
Nick wasn't one to talk through all his problems. And if he did, he preferred to be vague about them.
"I'm not to sure about that." Greg said honestly. He didn't want to talk. He didn't have answers. He was as much as a victim as they were. Just because he had a condition didn't mean he knew everything there was to know about it.
He feared questions.
He didn't want to be questioned on things.
Like life expectancy.
"Look Greg, I understand! But man, you gotta talk to me!" Nick exclaimed, placing his elbows onto the table, and heavily leaning on them.
Greg pulled away at this gesture.
His didn't want people to get to close to him.
They might see something; a tremor, that even he hadn't noticed.
"Ok," he frowned.
Nick took the opportunity.
"Why didn't you tell me? At the beginning, when all of this started." He said sadly, he slightly feared the answer.
"There was nothing really to tell. I started getting stiff shoulders and back – but leaning over a microscope all day – what do I expect?" he grinned, but Nick's serious expression told him to continue, "Then one day in the lab – my hands start shaking – and I almost freak out. I guess its stress you know? We were working a lot of cases." Greg shrugged.
"We always are, you always are" Nick said supportively.
"I thought my doc would just give me something – to help me relax – but instead – I get sent to a neuro." Greg said, voice stating to crack, having to admit all this was hard for him.
"Why didn't you ask me then?" Nick said, as though it was the obvious thing to do.
"What? To go too a neurologist with me?" Greg asked, perplexed.
"Yea!" Nick responded positively.
"Nick," Greg sighed, "I was feeling pretty low- are you telling me you would have gone – no jokes made?" Greg said, desperately trying to make sense of his own actions.
Nick was about to answer, but stopped after seeing Greg's knowledgeable stair. He decided to re-phrase his answer.
"I don't know," he admitted, "-but you could of asked me to go with you for the tests."
"I wanted to – for the MRI – I just wanted to tell someone. " Greg said with frustration. Hindsight was a fickle thing.
"But you didn't." Nick said, his voice slightly strained with annoyance. " … tell me why."
"I didn't know what it was, it could have been nothing. And….if it was bad…I didn't want to worry anyone." Greg exclaimed, hating having to account for his actions.
Sometimes you just do things; you don't need a motive.
"Greg, I'm your friend, I'm always here for you."
"I know." He said it without any realisation.
After all, how can you predict another persons actions; when you cant even account for your own?
-------------------------------------
Don't worry; next part up tomorrow; and I definitely will be going into more details on how the CSI's are coping – not just as individuals – but as a group.
------------------------------------------
Greg sat on a hard moulded plastic chair in Starbucks, waiting. Nick had called him, and asked if they could meet up before work. Greg had reluctantly accepted.
He was early, more out of choice than anticipation. He needed to take his tablets. They were no longer linked to the agonising 'should I –shouldn't I' decision.
It wasn't just one tablet – he had to take both Sinemet and Eldepryl together. It was actually slightly disconcerting – he only took Eldepryl to reduce the side effects of the Sinemet.
He swallowed them; but it felt as though they lingered in his throat.
He didn't see Nick, until he sat opposite. He'd been in his own world again.
Nick remained silent, he didn't even look at Greg, he just sat there, head down, face turned away.
"You called?" Greg said suspiciously, breaking the silence.
Nick looked up, dark patches hung beneath his eyes; he looked like he hadn't shaven, and his eyes lids were Fasciculating, probably due to lack of sleep.
"Man, you look rough, night on the town?" Greg said, slightly sympathetically – the thought of Nick going out drinking to forget his problems – to forget him – worried him slightly.
"Kinda. Don't remember much of it." He said dismissed. "We need to talk." He said hurriedly, but the words hung in the air.
Nick wasn't one to talk through all his problems. And if he did, he preferred to be vague about them.
"I'm not to sure about that." Greg said honestly. He didn't want to talk. He didn't have answers. He was as much as a victim as they were. Just because he had a condition didn't mean he knew everything there was to know about it.
He feared questions.
He didn't want to be questioned on things.
Like life expectancy.
"Look Greg, I understand! But man, you gotta talk to me!" Nick exclaimed, placing his elbows onto the table, and heavily leaning on them.
Greg pulled away at this gesture.
His didn't want people to get to close to him.
They might see something; a tremor, that even he hadn't noticed.
"Ok," he frowned.
Nick took the opportunity.
"Why didn't you tell me? At the beginning, when all of this started." He said sadly, he slightly feared the answer.
"There was nothing really to tell. I started getting stiff shoulders and back – but leaning over a microscope all day – what do I expect?" he grinned, but Nick's serious expression told him to continue, "Then one day in the lab – my hands start shaking – and I almost freak out. I guess its stress you know? We were working a lot of cases." Greg shrugged.
"We always are, you always are" Nick said supportively.
"I thought my doc would just give me something – to help me relax – but instead – I get sent to a neuro." Greg said, voice stating to crack, having to admit all this was hard for him.
"Why didn't you ask me then?" Nick said, as though it was the obvious thing to do.
"What? To go too a neurologist with me?" Greg asked, perplexed.
"Yea!" Nick responded positively.
"Nick," Greg sighed, "I was feeling pretty low- are you telling me you would have gone – no jokes made?" Greg said, desperately trying to make sense of his own actions.
Nick was about to answer, but stopped after seeing Greg's knowledgeable stair. He decided to re-phrase his answer.
"I don't know," he admitted, "-but you could of asked me to go with you for the tests."
"I wanted to – for the MRI – I just wanted to tell someone. " Greg said with frustration. Hindsight was a fickle thing.
"But you didn't." Nick said, his voice slightly strained with annoyance. " … tell me why."
"I didn't know what it was, it could have been nothing. And….if it was bad…I didn't want to worry anyone." Greg exclaimed, hating having to account for his actions.
Sometimes you just do things; you don't need a motive.
"Greg, I'm your friend, I'm always here for you."
"I know." He said it without any realisation.
After all, how can you predict another persons actions; when you cant even account for your own?
-------------------------------------
Don't worry; next part up tomorrow; and I definitely will be going into more details on how the CSI's are coping – not just as individuals – but as a group.