Okay, long chapter, but there really wasn't a place to break it up into two. Though I don't think you guys mind. The long awaited question in what Greg has is finally answered!

Chapter Four: Past to Present

He shouldn't have eaten. Greg knew that his stomach wouldn't have been able to tolerate it. But what else could he have done? Catherine wasn't the type of person who took no for an answer. You could tell that by the way she held herself; there was an arrogance about her, in her manner, not that that was necessarily a bad thing. Catherine had just grown over the years, had sacrificed many things to get where she was now. No just wasn't in her vocabulary.

Still, Greg tried very hard to say no, without saying no directly. Catherine had offered him a ride home, after his car had broken down. Actually, his car had been broken down for a while now, and Greg had been relying on taxis to and from work. Seeing that it couldn't hurt, and that he needed to save as much money as possible, he consented.

On the way to the apartment buildings, however, Catherine had stopped off a small fast food restaurant. When asking him what he wanted, Greg immediately said that he was fine, but she wouldn't let up. Earlier, when she caught him not taking his break, Greg had explained that he had eaten a large meal before coming in. It was when Catherine pointed out that nearly ten hours had passed since he started working that Greg had quickly come up with a second excuse. He had woken up late, and forgot to bring something for lunch, and without a car, he couldn't really go out and get something.

It was a cheesy excuse, Greg knew. And he knew that Catherine thought the same as well. But she had let him be when it was apparent that Greg wasn't going to stop for break. It wasn't unusual to see someone skipping break, it happened quite often, once you were wrapped up in a case, you forgot time.

Greg hadn't been extraordinarily busy, only helping Nick with a case, shifting through an entire bin of shredded paper, slowly piecing a document back together. It was a tantalizing task; Nick often let Greg take the lead on these types of projects. In other words, Greg was left to do all the work. But the lab rat didn't seem to mind. And seeing that DNA was all caught up, it gave him something to occupy his time.

Greg finally gave in as they came up to the counter. He had no idea what he was going to try and eat, the smell alone was making him nauseated. Slowly, but surely, he had been able to finish the meal, despite the fact it was small. The only thing he was thankful for was the ride to his apartment was a short one. After Catherine had dropped him off outside, Greg was barely able to make it to the bathroom.

At this point, he was deeply considering calling in sick for tomorrow night. His fever was higher that night then it had been the last few days, and exhaustion was taking its toll. Aside from that, he had another appointment tomorrow before work; he had a feeling that alone would wear him out.

It was an odd feeling, he knew that he was sick, but that was all it felt like. It didn't feel like he was dying, only felt as though he had the stomach flu, and that in a few days, he would be back to normal. But he wouldn't, Greg knew that was a fact. The last meeting hadn't gone overly well, and he was dreading going in tomorrow. If Greg didn't find some way to bring in extra money, his doctor was going to notify his supervisor. That meant either Ecklie or Grissom, considering on how high of a supervisor his doctor wanted to talk with. Either way, his job was in jeopardy, and it wouldn't take long for the word to spread. Then what? He would be treated like an outcast, like he didn't belong. He had seen it happen enough times growing up to know that the ill were misjudged. Either they were ignored, or so pampered it was sickening. Greg wanted neither.

He would have to tell Grissom himself. It wasn't going to be easy, easier than telling Ecklie, of course, but still just the same. Would it be easier to explain everything, or just tell him the news, and bid his farewells? Greg let out a groan as he laid down on the couch, head pounding and stomach quivering. He would have to go in tomorrow. Things were just moving to fast for him to keep up with, soon the questions would start. He knew that the others were talking behind his back, he had heard them. Accidentally of course, but heard them just the same.

"Any of you notice anything different with Greg?"

Catherine had been the one to ask the question, Greg had heard his name as he was passing by, retreating a few steps back. Leaning against the wall, just out of sight, he listened as Sara chimed in her own opinion.

"Like he's being a jerk all the time instead of on special occasions?"

There were a few laughs, short but quiet ones.

"Sara, just because you're mad at him doesn't make him a jerk. What did he do to drive you up the wall this time?"

Nick's voice was easy, teasing her. He heard someone scoff, and assumed that it was Sara.

"Seriously now," Catherine had broken up the small banter. Good old Catherine, she was always able to stop a fight with only a few words. It was amazing sometimes.

"Different, like new hair style, goofy idea, or another zany wardrobe?" Nick joked gently.

"Exactly how can you notice something different about a person when that person is different near every day?

Warrick had spoken up for the first time. The others agreed.

"I guess," Catherine said, "Just something's different, I don't know what. I can't put my finger on it."

Greg hadn't listened to anymore, turning on his heal to head back to the DNA lab. He felt so insecure now, it had only been a few weeks since he found out, and already others were noticing. At least Catherine was noticing. He had done well to stay out of the others way that night, until he was getting ready to leave. This is where Catherine had found him, and offered him the ride.

Maybe it was pity, or just concern, but Catherine had been overly nice to him tonight. Not that she was ever mean to him, sure, every so often a harsh word would come out, but that was given, stress was always a high factor in this job. Greg had gotten into verbal fights with the other members from time to time, but no one really took it to heart. They only avoided each other for a few hours; enough time to calm down, said their apologies, and got on with life. It was expected, though not frequent.

It had been two days since he and Sara had fought, so to say, and still the hadn't made up. Greg hated when they argued, Sara wasn't one to give up as easily as the others, especially when she thought she was right about something. Greg figured he would give her at least another day, before confronting her, and try and work an apology out of her.

He slept on the couch, in all actuality he just laid there, his mind burning with a thousand ideas that wouldn't let him alone. Before he knew it, it was time to get ready for his appointment. Still he just lay there, staring at the ceiling. He hadn't really noticed that it was a creamy light tan color; he had always assumed it was white. Greg laughed softly to himself, the things you noticed when you actually took the time to look could surprise you sometimes.

Getting up, and stretching at the same time, Greg was careful to make sure he could walk straight before moving anywhere. He staggered into the bathroom, taking a warm shower that seemed to revive him some, before getting dressed. Greg let out a sigh as he pulled the belt another notch around his waist. He would have to try and get some clothes that actually fit him.

Dressed in a long white shirt, and black jeans, Greg applied the foundation, grimacing as he did so. Things would be so much easier if he didn't have to hide, but he didn't have much of a choice right now. He even mussed up his hair, spiking it up the way he liked, something he hadn't done for a while now. Looking in the mirror he smiled, despite how appalling he felt. It looked as though nothing was wrong, that's what he was trying to achieve.

He still had time before he had to leave when he finished, and Greg thought it would be best to try and eat something now, and see how his stomach handled it. They would make him eat again at the doctors, so if he was going to get sick, he would rather be prepared for later on. After much indecision, Greg finally pulled a small container of yogurt out, glad that at least something sounded appealing.

He took his time eating it, taking small bites and waiting a few minutes to make sure that his stomach wasn't going to reject it, before eating a little quicker. Greg was still hungry when he finished, but decided not to press his luck. Instead he sipped on a glass of water, chewing on a few pieces of ice, something else his doctor had recommended he try.

Leaving, he grabbed his coat, since the skies above where threatening to rain, and headed out to catch a taxi. He would have to find something to do; his 'cash allowance' was getting low. Greg had spent a better part of his time, figuring out the least amount of money he could spend, dividing it up weekly. Without a car, and having to be both at the doctors, and at work, his money was going fast, much faster than he wanted. He was storing as much away as he could, but still, it was a far cry from what he needed.

The visit at the doctor's went surprisingly well, Greg was able to eat a second time that day, and hold it all down. They checked his vitals, and recorded everything down on his sheet, updating him on the latest test results, at the same time, drawing more blood for further testing. All the while promising him that things were going to work out just fine, but Greg wasn't as optimistic. Maybe an average person would believe that, but he was a man of science, he knew all the facts and figures, knew the rates and percentages. And his weren't exactly good, they weren't even half.

Greg knew he had to talk to Grissom tonight, he had promised his doctor that he was going to do so. Greg didn't really see what difference it made, nothing was going to change the facts, but still, if he didn't, then she would, and the last thing Greg needed or even wanted was his boss to find out from someone else.

The lab was busy that night, not DNA in general, but just the lab. The case that the night shift team was working on was a rather big case. It had made the headlines on all news stations. Someone had been murdering children, abducting them from schools during recess. It was a hard one to solve; the only DNA that had ever been found was the victims, so running them through the system wasn't that hard. Not very many eight year olds had a criminal history, so their DNA gave them very little to work off of.

Most of the work was in trace, fibers and such, but nothing new for DNA. Greg found himself working on the document again, his third day and counting. So far he had gotten a partial title, and numbers, lots and lots of numbers. Whoever had this paper, didn't want it to be found again. There wasn't even a guarantee that all the pieces were here either.

Greg frowned as he read out loud what he had so far, "Mar…sol…inc…"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Greg grinned as Nick came in, leaning to read over his shoulder. "Mar…sol…inc" Nick repeated. "Good work, so far, we have absolutely nothing."

"Thanks Nick," Greg commented dryly, though a smile twitched on his face. He knew Nick was teasing him by his tone.

Nick laughed, patting him on the shoulder. "Keep working; page me when you come up with something more helpful."

"Gotcha," Greg gave him a thumbs up as he left. Sitting back with a sigh, Greg checked the time. If he was going to do it, he had to do it now. Careful placing the partially reconstructed document back in the protective casing, he swept the free pieces back into the plastic container they were using, making sure that no pieces fell free.

Finding Grissom wasn't easy, it never was when you needed him. He had sought out his boss several times that night, but each time he was busy. Greg didn't want to confront him until he was alone, he didn't want to arouse suspicion.

Greg finally found him, in the trace lab, talking with Catherine and the technician who was there. Greg waited for a few minutes, until Grissom left the room, the door swinging shut behind him.

"Griss," Greg called after him; once he was certain Catherine was not to follow.

The older man turned, raising an eyebrow as Greg came up to him. "We need to talk."

Grissom raised a hand, stopping him. "It's going to have to wait Greg, I'm really busy right now," he was already leaving.

Greg nodded, hands in the pockets of his lab coat. Then he shook his head, taking a step after his boss. "Grissom," he called again, waiting till he turned back again. "This can't wait, I really need," Greg let out a sigh; glancing at the ground, then back up at him, "please, ten minutes, that's all I'm asking."

Grissom was slow to nod, but when he did, he indicated that Greg should follow him. It worried Grissom; the look in Greg's eyes was indescribable. Upon entering his office, Grissom closed the door, watching as the young lab tech took a seat. Grissom sat down across from him.

"Ten minutes then," Grissom told him, watching him nod. "But if you go over a minute or few, it's okay."

Greg nodded, but made no comment about his apparent attempt to lighten the mood. Greg was never one to pass up a joke such as that, and it worried Grissom anymore. He watched as the young man drew in a deep breath.

"I'm not really sure where to start, or how to say all this, but I'm going to try. And before you say anything, just let me talk, okay?"

Grissom nodded, concern now his main factor. Greg fidgeted slightly, drawing in another deep breath.

"When I was ten, my father got a job opportunity to work over in Europe, building and designing buildings. We needed the money, my mother was unemployed and my father's current job didn't pay enough to keep up with the house, let alone keep me in school. So when he accepted, the three of us went over there. We lived out of a small tent trailer, since my father always had to be on the move. We lived in parts of southern Europe, until we moved down into Africa. There was a town there that had hired him to help rebuild their town after an earthquake destroyed it several months ago."

Greg paused for a few moments, Grissom thought about intervening, to really see where this was going, but he remembered his promise he made the lab rat. Greg leaned his head against his hand, resting his elbow on the arm rest of the chair before continuing.

"We were there for about four months, when my father started to get sick. He thought it the flu, we all did. It got worse over the course of a few days, but he insisted that he was fine, and that we all didn't need to worry. Then, one morning, he didn't wake up."

Grissom could not help but feel remorse when Greg said those words. The look on his face was held a fixed edge, laced with painful memories. Grissom was beginning to see why Greg never talked about his family.

"Things got worse after that, my mother feel into a deep depression. It didn't matter what I did, I couldn't reach her. No one was able to. We had no money, and the people we had made friends with during that short time were unable to help us. I remember my mother getting sick; the doctor there took her in, and treated her, but I wasn't able to see her after that. I don't really remember much after that, the next thing I knew I was waking up in a hospital, back in Germany somewhere."

"For days, I kept asking what had happened, asking where my mom was, but no one there knew English. So all my questions were left unanswered. I was there for a few weeks, when one day a young nurse came in. She sat down on the bed next to me, and told me that I was going home."

Greg drew in another deep breath, eyes trailing up to the ceiling. Grissom could see hints of tears in his eyes, but made no comment. The youth was having a great deal of trouble telling him all of this.

"My mother never made it. The doctors had found out that both my mother and father had died from Marburg Hemorrhagic Fever. It's a rare disease, I don't even know what the infectious percentage is, but I know that it's low. It's deadly because it is often overlooked as the stomach flu, and by the time you finally do realize something is wrong, it's too late. I was lucky, after the doctors learned that was what killed my father; they took both me and my mother in for treatment. It hadn't been soon enough for my mother, but for me, it was still earlier enough, but not without consequences."

"I was taken to live with my grandparents, Papa Olaf, and Niena," Greg clasped his hands together. "I was taken to for regular checkups twice a year, but it wasn't until I was older that they started to really talk with me about my future. During my stay in the hospital, they had gone in and removed a part of my liver that was no longer operating. I was warned that problems would more in likely occur later in life, it all depended on how my body reacted to treatment."

"My last schedule check up showed that the disease I had nearly 14 years ago had indeed done its damage. My body no longer recognizes my liver as part of my system, and the antibodies have already begun to decimate what's left."

Grissom said nothing, was unable to say anything. In all the time before, when he had wanted to interject his own thoughts he now found himself at a loss for words. All that he was able to do was watch the young man before him, as he tried to comprehend what exactly Greg had told him.

Finally, seeing that Greg wasn't going to say anymore, Grissom forced himself to speak up. "What can be done?"

"Nothing," was Greg's simple answer. Grissom felt as though he had been stabbed with a knife, the cold metal twisting in his stomach. Greg sat up some, still avoiding his boss' gaze.

"I need a full liver transplant," he said softly. "If I don't get one, then…well, let's just say you'll need to find a replacement lab tech."

Grissom nodded, Greg hadn't needed to say what the alternate was. He knew that Greg had been run down lately; he thought it was because the young man had been over worked, which is why he had prompted Greg to take a break. Now things were beginning to make sense. Too much sense.

"How much time?" Grissom wondered. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

"A month," was Greg's reply. "Maybe two."

Grissom folded his hands in front of him, just thinking. "Things will work out," he told him finally. "You'll get your transplant, you'll recover. You just need time."

"I'm not a waiting list," Greg said calmly.

This surprised Grissom. "Why not?"

"I don't have the money."

"Your insurance..."

"I don't have insurance." Greg looked up at him, but only for a moment. "They dropped me after the lab explosion, saying that I was too much of a liability."

"That was nearly a year ago," Grissom told him sternly, "Why didn't you say anything about this sooner? We would have been able to get you back on."

"I just kind of found out a few days ago. It was a surprise to me too. My doctor visits are prepaid for several years in advanced; it's just easier that way."

"How much money are you talking about?"

Greg shook his head, "More than I have."

"How much Greg?"

The lab tech let out a sigh, closing his eyes. "If I had insurance, I would be able to pay in small amounts. But since I don't, they want a down payment of 150,000 dollars, in cash. It's sort of an assurance to prove that I can pay for the operation."

"How much do you have now?"

"I've been saving for a few months now, plus what I've pulled out of my life savings, and I'm close to ninety thousand."

"Okay, I'll fill in what you need, just let me know where to get it too," Grissom started, but Greg cut him off.

"No," he said, "I can't let you do that. That's asking too much."

"Not for a life it's not Greg," Grissom argued.

"I'm not going to let you give me seventy thousand dollars. That's not fair for you, besides that, it's just a down payment. There is no guarantee that I will even get the operation. It's just enough to get me on the list. You have all the treatment fees, the operation itself, the follow up procedure. And even then it's only 50-50 that I'll recover."

"We'll figure it out when we get there, but for now, let me help you."

"It's asking too much, I wouldn't be able to repay you. Your money would just be wasted."

"Greg," Grissom leaned forward, "It's not a waste, I can assure you that now."

But Greg was already shaking his head.

"Then I'll call a meeting, everyone would be more than grateful to pitch in."

"No," Greg said quickly, "don't tell anyone else."

"It's not like you can keep it hidden forever Greg," Grissom warned.

Greg nodded solemnly. "I know," he said softly, calming down some. "I'm just not ready for them to know yet."

"Fine, we'll make a deal. I won't say anything to anyone, as long as you agree to let me give you some money."

Greg considered it for a moment, "Okay, but only some money. And I'm serious about that Griss; I don't want you giving me seventy thousand dollars. Promise me that."

Grissom nodded, "I promise." He watched as the young lab tech nodded, standing up to leave. "Greg," he waited until he turned around, "if you ever need anything, just ask. Take off all the time you need, I'll cover for you."

Greg nodded his thanks as he left the office, not sure if he was feeling better or worse then before. At the moment, he had a lot to think about.

TBC