Days passed before it was definite Greg would make a full recovery. He would live, with nothing but a few scars and the lost trust from his friends to show from the experience. It wasn't just a random act, his suicide attempt. He spent hours planning how to perform it perfectly. His background was in science; it obviously wasn't an accident that he missed hitting every major organ in his body by less than an inch. The longest, most painful way for him to die was to bleed out, holding onto consciousness just long enough to mull over his wasted life. He had accomplished nothing, he hadn't made an impact on anyone, and yet, ending it like he did seemed wrong. He guessed he had his job to thank for that. Everyday he had to test DNA from victims whose lives ended unnaturally premature, victims who wanted nothing more than another chance at life. But it was the only way he knew how to deal.
He couldn't pin the whole ordeal on Sara; his situation with her was nothing more than the final failure that sent him over the edge. His life was full of failures. On occasion, he had been known to achieve something worthwhile, though he knew that he failed a hell of a lot more times than he succeeded. Shit, he couldn't even kill himself without failing. He thought he had devised the perfect plan, sure, his plan would take longer than a bullet to the brain, but he never assumed that anyone would show up at his door and "rescue him" from the situation he had bestowed upon himself. He should have known better; things never went as planned.
Greg's past was overflowing with situations he could watch and couldn't find it in himself to stop. He watched as his Grandfather died of a heart attack in the middle of a crowded subway when he was six. He watched his mother and sister get murdered when he was thirteen. He watched as the son of a bitch that killed them got away. He watched Sara come in to and walk out of his life. He watched as Nick burst into his apartment less than a week before and called an ambulance, with Greg trying his hardest not to show he was awake. And lastly, he watched as Grissom entered his hospital room, ready to confront Greg as to what had happened.
I feel like there is no need for conversation
Some questions are better left without a reason
And I would rather reveal myself than my situation
Now and then I consider, my hesitation
The more the light shines through me
I pretend to close my eyes
The more the dark consumes me
I pretend I'm burning, burning bright
I wonder if the things I did were just to be different
To spare myself of the constant shame of my existence
And I would surely redeem myself in my desperation
Here and now I'll express, my situation
There's nothing ever wrong but nothing's ever right
Such a cruel contradiction
I know I cross the lines, it's not easy to define
I'm born to indecision
There's always something new some path I'm supposed to choose
With no particular rhyme or reason
The more the light shines through me
I pretend to close my eyes
The more the dark consumes me
I pretend I'm burning
I feel like there is no need for conversation
He walked into Greg's room almost undetectably, as to not alarm the occupant. Grissom was the first familiar face to enter his room; he fought with Nick for fifteen minutes to try and keep the hotheaded Texan out. His eyes immediately fell on pale, withdrawn Greg. Taking a seat in the lumpy blue chair beside his hospital bed, Grissom began observing. The bare, white room was enough to drive anyone mad and if that didn't do it, then the almost suffocating smell of disinfectant was. He immediately remembered exactly why he hated hospitals.
"You know, I didn't expect to wake up. I kept dreaming about being cut open on the coroner's table, with you watching on."
While Grissom wasn't sure what to expect when he entered this room, he surely wasn't expecting that and he didn't have the slightest inkling as to what to say next. After sitting in silence for what seemed like hours, Greg broke the inarticulate pause with a feeble attempt to lighten the mood.
"So I take it you came down here to tell me I'm fired"
"Well, after certain psychiatric evaluation, you are more than welcomed back." Grissom continued, either not detecting or not caring about Greg's humor. He didn't feel as if now was the time to joke around. "And if you promise me you'll never do something like this again without talking to one of us first." Grissom stood up and headed towards the exit.
"Wait! Is that all that you have to say to me?"
He turned around to face Greg. "No Greg, that is not all I have to say. I can't believe you were selfish enough to inflict all of this on the people who care about you. We've lost one team member this week already and you were trying to make it two. I thought we meant more to you than that." With that, he walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him, upset with the way his "family" had fallen apart. Ashamed that he couldn't detect why this happened to one of his own.
Greg wasn't shocked or angry at Grissom's reaction; it actually raised Greg's spirits to find out that Grissom was a normal person with normal emotions just like the rest of us. Apparently Greg had been wrong to judge him so quickly, to judge all of them that quickly. He probably didn't really know a single member of that team because of how he underestimated them all. He realized for the first time that his actions would affect more people than just himself, that he wasn't completely alone. It would take some adjustment, but maybe, just maybe, he would make it through all of this almost unscathed. Greg wasn't quite as disappointed at his survival as he used to be.
AN: The song in this chapter was Burning Bright by Shinedown. I just got their cd for Christmas and its pretty good. Anyway, feedback of ANY KIND is appreciated (just because I'd like to know exactly how many people are reading this).
On a final note, it might be awhile before I update again because we are in the process of installing a new computer and I have to transfer all of my files over to it. It might take some time.
PLEASE REVIEW!!!!