On The Edge of Seventeen
Prologue
"Today, we have gathered here to say our goodbyes. To someone who's life was taken too soon…"
Greg's focus began to trail away from the voice speaking as he tugged his coat closer to himself in a rather vain attempt to keep the bitter chill out. How had it come to this? How many times had that thought crossed his tormented mind in the past few days. Another icy gust of wind ruffled his deep brown hair and he shivered slightly as he tried to listen to the woman currently speaking. He didn't even know who she was. He turned his head slightly and shifted his gaze to the young woman standing to his left. Sara Sidle gave him a small reassuring smile of comfort and squeezed his arm gently. He found himself unable to meet her concerned gaze in fear of losing what little self control he still had so he brought his focus back to the front. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of another fellow CSI, Nick Stokes on his right. Nick was staring straight ahead, his mouth set in a straight line. Praying that if he stayed completely still, he could keep some form of composure. He barely noticed the woman stop speaking, or the small crowd of people beginning to move around him, slowly walking back down the hillside to waiting cars.
"Come on guys," Nick finally said in a slightly shaky voice, his breath pluming in small clouds in the cold crisp air, effectively breaking the heavy silence that had settled over their group as they all slowly made their way down the hill with the crowd "let's get to the car."
"You guys go ahead, I'll be there in a minute" Sara told Nick. He looked at her questioningly and she motioned with a slight nod of her head to Greg, who hadn't left his previous place at the top of the hill. Nick affirmed his understanding silently and watched for a moment as Sara made her way back to Greg before he turned to catch up with his waiting companions. Greg barely acknowledged Sara when she tugged gently at his arm, trying to get him to follow. He shook her off lightly without acknowledging her presence but when she made no move to leave he finally turned to look at her. Her normally bright eyes were rimmed with red from fallen tears and her brown hair was blowing lazily in the breeze. Sara's frown deepened and her brow creased with worry at Greg's stony and highly uncharacteristic behavior. Relenting, Greg finally sighed and offered her a tiny hint of a smile. It was barely even a shadow of the usual goofy grin that was normally plastered to his face but it was something all the same.
"Can you give me a minute? I'll be there in a bit." He said quietly, turning his attention back in front of him, his voice sounding raspy and slightly hoarse. Indeed, it was probably the first time he'd said anything in the past 3 days and the icy weather and countless tears that had been stoically chocked back couldn't have helped much. A little unnerved by not only the sound of his voice but the calm almost detached way that he'd said it, Sara took a cautious step closer instead of doing as requested.
"Are you sure you don't want me to wait with you?" Sara inquired gently, taking another small step closer to the young man before her. She was almost fearful of leaving him alone in this state but still, she couldn't say that she didn't understand his obvious state of distress. She stopped where she was, keeping a respectable amount of space between them. Greg could feel her approach him but he made no further signs of recognition to the movements.
"No it's fine, I'll be there in a minute." He said without looking up, he heard Sara sigh quietly but she said no more and he heard the quiet rustling of grass as she made her way to where their co-workers waited.
Greg's gaze rested on the wooden coffin that lay before his feet. Covered in flowers, it was somehow beautiful and serene, so much like its owner. Greg absentmindedly wiped at a few stray tears that had managed to escape with the back of his hand as he gazed at the box that held someone who was so full of life, so fearless, someone who would have, and should have, gone on to do great things.
"It's not fair." He whispered to no one, wiping more tears away and getting slightly upset at himself for breaking down now after days of trying to hold it back.
"She didn't deserve this, she should have lived." His voice was getting a little stronger. He knew everyone was waiting for him but he didn't care. He couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze from the gravesite. He had only known her for a few days, but in those few days he had grown to love and respect her more then words could describe. It sounded silly but it was true and he found that words couldn't describe it. Greg shoved his hands in his pockets to bring some heat back into them and he let his mind wander. Back to that day that seemed so long ago but was really only a week or so in passing. Back to the day where pure chance crossed his path with a girl who was wiser and stronger then he could have thought possible.
His boss Grissom, head of the graveyard shift, always said to him "stay objective, don't let things get personal." Over and over like a benediction and he'd always been inclined to agree. In his job he saw death every day and getting attached to every victim whose plea for justice came into his hands would most certainly kill him, or anyone for that matter. He saw brutal and cold blooded crimes in their aftermath all the time, heard countless horror stories and saw too many lives that were ended to early and he kept his face blank and stayed professional with minimal effort. But this time was different. This girl was different. Screw Grissom and his mantra, screw being professional, screw it all. She deserves more then a passing glance and a file that would be lost in the vast recesses of the CSI closed cases storerooms.
"She deserved to be remembered, to be missed, to be loved. But just because you deserve it, doesn't mean life will necessarily give it to you. She certainly didn't deserve death though. And yet that's what she got." Greg's voice was getting louder, bitterer, angrier. His fists clenched at his sides.
It made him angry, made him want to kick at something in frustration or make him curse life and fate and whatever else he could think of. But he didn't get angry, didn't fume or yell or hit. The only reaction he had was to crumple to the ground, cover his face with his hands and cry. Finally letting out days of pent up sorrow and grief, tears for the girl who was two days from turning 17, the girl who didn't even know to say goodbye.