Sara's POV:

I didn't think it was possible, but Greg's face turned about seven shades whiter as we stopped at that door. He looked as if throwing up on my shoes would be a real comfort to him. As hard as I was trying to be a supportive friend, that was just one comfort I couldn't grant. He took a deep breath as he opened the door.

"Ladies first," he grinned, trying to appear light-hearted. His smile never reached his eyes.

It always strikes me how white hospitals are. Everything in them is white and clean. Each room just smells and looks immaculate, which is something I've always taken great comfort in.

The man lying on the vividly white sheets in room 541 wasn't exactly who I was expecting. His file said he was thirty-four, but Tony Nash looked much older than that. Every hard time in his life left a line on his weathered face and grayed his hair prematurely. He was short but years of heavy labor had sculpted his small frame, bulking him up. I could tell by looking at him that at one time, he had been handsome, but that had faded long ago. He was a man whose life had been dealt a few bad cards and he didn't seem like the type to befriend Greg.

I stamped a smile on my face as we walked over to his bed. Tony looked down at the sight of us but seconds later his glance had traveled back up to the small TV screen in the corner of the room, obviously disinterested. Apparently, he didn't recognize Greg. That or he just didn't care.

But still, I pressed on. "Tony Nash?" when he looked up, I continued. "I'm Sara Si - - "

"You're cops."

"Well, criminalists if you want to get technical. But we came down here to ask you a few questions about what happened to you."

Tony rolled his eyes. "I was at my place eating a burrito, when I hear this loud ringing noise. Next thing I know, something hits me in the back of the head and I'm gone. Well, until I woke up in the hospital with two bullet holes in my stomach. I told this to that cop already."

By 'that cop' I assumed he meant Brass. "Right. Can you think of anyone who would want to do this to you?"

His reply was just simply rolling his eyes AGAIN. Tony was starting to piss me off but I knew he used to be a friend of Greg's so I tried to stay as polite as possible.

"Sir, I know you've been asked these questions a million times but we're trying to find out who did this to you." Greg owed me big.

He let out a sigh and ran his fingers through his hair, his glance landing on the pale, shaking form of Greg.

"What's the matter, kid? This you first live victim?" He began with a twisted grin.

"As a matter of fact, you're my first 'victim' ever, sir" the last word dripped with the sarcasm I had been dying to use since I met this guy. Sarcasm is my friend. Sarcasm can do no wrong. So I kind of thought it unfair that Greg got to use it first.

Tony blanched when he heard Greg's voice. Even though he couldn't recognize him, the voice sure struck a memory. Recognition finally flashed on his face and he broke out into a sad smile. "Greg Sanders," he began, more of a statement than a question. "It's been awhile."

Greg matched Tony with a small smile of his own. "Eleven years."

Tony's hard exterior softened. "So you're a cop now? You've sure come a long way,"

"Not a cop, a - - " I butted in.

"I know, a 'criminalist.'" The two men glared over at me and I realized that I wasn't part of the conversation. I needed to not talk.

Tony filled the awkward silence. "You sure have come a long way. I barely even recognized you."

"Yeah, I'm sorry we lost touch". Ooh, Greg's sarcasm was back again. Apparently, this guy had burned him in the past, or vice versa.

Tony's smile faded. "I tried to keep in contact with you Greg. I visited you about two months after I got out. Doesn't that click? Or were you just too lit to remember?"

Meanwhile, I just stood in the background, trying to stay unnoticed for as long as I could eavesdrop on their conversation.

"That's not fair." Greg looked pissed now. Whatever happy reunion I was expecting, this was certainly not it. "You're the reason I got into all of that shit."

"I never made you do shit. And I wouldn't have let you do anything if you hadn't lied about your age. You were sixteen fucking years old! That's right, Lydia shared that little piece of information with me you sick fuck!" Tony was screaming now. I knew I should have broken up their fight, but I honestly couldn't believe the things I was hearing.

"So you want to talk about Lydia now? Why the hell did you tell me she died?"

"Because you couldn't keep your fucking paws off of her!"

"I never touched her!" Greg's tone was now just as loud as Tony's.

"I saw the way she looked at you. I knew what was going on. So when she finally woke up out of her fucking coma two years later, I told her that you were a heroin addict living on the streets!"

I looked at Greg. "Why?" he whispered, horrified.

"Because you were and you know it! I couldn't tell her anything else because she would have gone looking for you. I know about your relationship with her, I knew how much she cared. I figured she might as well know the truth! So you want to know why I told you she died, Greg? So you couldn't screw up her life even more than it was!

"And you never touched her? Then please tell me how the fuck you managed to get her pregnant??

"What?"

"What? You don't remember that? A month after you joined the group! She was going to tell you about your fucking son the day of the wreck but then she found out that you could have her arrested for statutory rape if you knew! She wouldn't even look at me after that, you ruined everything that we could ever hope to have. So you want to know why I told you she died, Greg? So you couldn't have the life you stole from me!"

"She still could have mentioned something to me. I-I could have at least helped out with something."

"Yeah, sure Greg. Help from a fucking heroin addict was exactly what a single mom needed."

Whoa, that one I wasn't expecting. Greg, the good guy, the dependable one, wasn't capable of some of these outrageous accusations that Tony was throwing at him. I was waiting for Greg to deny all of this, but his denial never came. Instead, he stalked out of the room. I muttered something that sounded remotely like "thank you for your time" before chasing Greg out into the hallway, finally reaching him at the elevator.

"Greg!" I called out to him as I jumped into the elevator with him. I was prepared to bitch him out for about ten minutes and get the answers he was refusing to give, but with one look at his crestfallen face, I knew now was not the time.

"Can you just take me home?"

"Sure."

AN: It will be awhile before the third chapter of this will be up. A few things- - a concert (Slipknot, anyone?), a looming hurricane, and Honors English- - will keep me from finishing the next chapter any time soon. I guess I should apologize in advance. But, you know, reviews will speed me up! Speaking of that, I would like to respond to a few of the reviews from last chapter.

JNP- I would write a tamora pierce story for those books but, I hate to say, I haven't read them! One day I will, I swear, and I might write a fic about them (especially if they have a character as cool as Joren!)

Orangebronce- lol, thanks. I personally think that trying to make up song lyrics to a fake song by a fake group was one of the hardest things about writing this series! Musicians deserve more credit than they get. I can't take credit for the title- - it's the title of my favorite song by A.F.I.

KrazyKid197- What happened to your account? And, of course you can post this on your site- - just credit it to HShuler888. You know, in a review you wrote for one of my stories, you said you would like for me to write a Greg angst story with no romance. That was what gave me the idea for Stay Home. Now I might not stick to that now but your review was the reason this thing was written. So thanks for that.

The next chapter, which will be in Grissom's POV, will be up soon.