Disclaimer: If I owned CSI, it would have its own channel. Obviously, I don't own CSI.

Author's Note:

Though I do very much appreciate my reviews/reviewers, I am extremely disappointed. I though I had more fic followers, yet last chapter I received far fewer reviews than in the other chapters (only three). It upset me, and therefore caused me to wait so long to post a new chapter. I need motivation, people… (

However, I do greatly thank/love FicFreak6, Doggies45 (extra love to you for being so enthusiastic 3), and another anonymous reviewer (anon). This chapter is for you! I apologize for making you wait so long. Also, sorry it's so short and lame…

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
Chapter Four
CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

The stereo was turned off during Greg Sander's entire drive home. And though he didn't have any sounds to distract him, hardly a thought came into his head. It was about seven in the morning, yet there wasn't as much traffic as he usually encountered. It took a mere twenty minutes' time for the tired young man to return home.

He stepped out of his car into an empty parking lot. It was an old, used Toyota- tan and plain, but Greg loved her. She was his little baby, and though she looked as though she was in terrible condition, he took good care of her. He locked her doors and shut his behind him, gave her an affectionate pat on the hood, then made his way to the front door of his apartment complex.

A drawn out creek was boldly shouted from the rusty hinges of the door as it was pushed open. Greg winced, the sound unwelcome to his tired, tired state. Sluggishly, he trudged up two flights of stairs to the apartment's third floor. The actual floor, meaning the solid surface beneath one's feet, was about as dingy and dirty as Greg's current mood. Scuff marks from playful children and clumps of cat hair could also be found, and yet there was no custodian in sight.

Another black line was made by Greg's sneakers, though it was purposeful and made out of spite. A sound more pleasant than what was made by the rebellious door was registered in Greg's mind as he searched for the correct key on his chain. When it was located, it was regretfully shoved into a keyhole, where it made available the entrance to the lab tech's living quarters. However, the jingles from his keys were suddenly drowned out by shouts from next room over.

"Don't give me that shit, Michael! I know that you've been fucking around with that whore down the street!"

"What the hell! How is giving her a glance while we drive by fucking her?"

"Don't give me that shit! Don't you think I would've found that dirty condom in our bathroom? We haven't had sex in weeks, Michael, so unless you're going to tell me that you like to jerk off with rubber, you can't deny that you've fucked with her!"

"You know what? If you're not going to trust me, then fuck you!"

Then the sobs began.

But Greg ignored it all. Shouts of words similar, if not identical, to those had been heard coming from the next room over countless times over, and countless times again. Others in the complex had also learned to ignore it by now. Though, the ignorance would be more easily done if the Johnsons didn't have kids.

An apple was Greg's meal. It was his 7:30 a.m. dinner, and though it was small, his howling stomach appreciated it. However, it wasn't as though the young man had many other choices. And when he was as tired as he was at the moment, anything that was quick and easy was appreciated. It could've been cardboard for all he cared.

When all that was left was the rind, it was tossed and a second apple that sat in a bowl was considered. But the bed's callings were suddenly too loud to ignore, and Greg would probably keel over any minute now, whether he was in it or not. He sat at the edge of his bed while he peeled the jacket and shirt off his torso and removed his shoes. The socks were left on, but the pants were off very shortly after the sneakers. If the bed had been made, Greg would have crawled under the covers. But instead he could only lie down on the mattress and attempt to untangle the mess of sheets and blankets that was twisted at his feet. Once a sheet and a blanket were separated from the intertwined mass, they were awkwardly pulled over the young man's body. He rolled onto his side and made sure that his alarm was set.

After running everything over in his mind to make sure that he hadn't left a computer on at work or forgotten to lock his door, Greg could finally burrow comfortably into his bed. His sleep was dreamless.

CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI

Author's Note:

Hopefully I'll get more reviews this time… It's such a pity that last chapter was my favorite, yet it went so unloved.