Onto chapter 3. Sorry it's taken so long, but what with school starting and all.
I think you may be plunged back into confusion again but it will sort itself out.
Hope you Enjoy
Carpe Diem
By HalinaRenata
Chapter 3: Non Sum Qualis Eram
Present Day
Sara stifled a yawn as she walked into the break room and headed straight towards the coffee. The last four days had hardly been strenuous. Ecklie, being the kind soul he was lately, had moved the few currently open cases onto days, leaving the short staffed swing and night shift to deal with the problem that had occurred at the de Marinez residence. She hated how much it all bothered her. Ever since Nick's burial and now Greg's hostage situation, Sara found it increasingly hard to see the group sticking together. They had all changed and Sara disliked change in an environment she had grown accustomed to. A black cloud filled with negative energy was pouring down on them. What annoyed her more was the lack of progress on the de Marinez case, which should have been open and shut.
But no, Grissom wanted to know it all. Sara could see he had taken the hostage situation hard. He hadn't been able to protect Greg, just like he hadn't been able to protect Nick. So he comforted himself by getting to the absolute truth of what happened. It was evident the two who had held Greg hostage had been involved in the death of the de Marinez family but now Grissom was going for the why as well as the how. And Brass, along with the Sheriff, was not complaining.
As she picked a cup up from the shelf in the break room, a small sigh startled her and she turned around, the cup threatening to fall from her grasp and wake the sleeping figure she saw on the sofa of the break room. Releasing a relieved breath, she walked over to Greg, who lay on his back with his eyes closed. As carefully as she could, she sat on the edge of the couch, as to not disturb the sleeping figure, who looked as though he'd spent little time sleeping, and studied him.
Dead to the world, Greg looked younger and much more relaxed than Sara had seen him in the whole year since starting his training. Yet the signs of maturity were present. The longer, better kempt hair; the lines on his face indicating a daily strain; the dark smudges under his eyes and the slight frown on his face showing his exposure and dislike of the cruelties of the world. Then, of course, there were the fading bruises on his face, so uncharacteristically Greg, marring his practically flawless features. Sara hadn't seen him erase those lines with a laugh for a long time now. Sure, he joked, he made fun. But he wasn't the same Greg anymore.
"Stop it, you're making me feel self conscious," Greg suddenly remarked, not opening his eyes but remaining in his relaxed position.
Sara jumped at the sound of his voice and looked away to stare at her coffee cup on the counter. "What are you doing here? You should be at home, resting. You have a week's leave."
"It's hard to sleep on your own when you wake up from imagining someone's shooting you. And there's no one in the room. Or you just can't sleep because you're afraid that you'll have that nightmare. Being shot. Or being alone." Still, his eyes remained closed but Sara noticed the difference in his breathing; how it sped up and proved his emotions were running again, but trying hard to keep them at bay.
"You're not alone, Greg."
Greg opened his eyes and sat up suddenly, looking around. "No, not here. It feels less threatening— unpenetretable —here. But the hubbub of the lab still makes it impossible to sleep. Go figure, can't win either way." Swinging his legs around, he sat beside Sara on the couch, rested his elbows on his knees and ran his hands across his face to rest in his hair. For a few moments there was silence. Only the distant sounds of life in the lab murmured outside the walls. Sara took the opportunity of the empty break room to scoot closer to Greg and rest a hand on his shoulder. She felt him flinch ever so slightly but was pleased the younger man didn't completely shrug her off.
"When was the last time you slept?" she asked quietly.
Greg lifted his head from staring at the floor and laughed bitterly as he rubbed his legs. "You mean sleep as in 'passed out?' I think I managed that two days ago after going six rounds on the playstation. I played a game which involved me shooting people and suddenly thought the graphics aren't that realistic. Blood and death doesn't…look quite like that." He laughed with twisted mirth. "Since then it's like doing night shift on repeat."
"Greg," Sara said sternly. "Don't be like this."
He looked at her and smiled sadly—ghostly—before glancing down to his hands in front of him, trying to brush away his emotions. "Be like what? It's okay. I can keep up this attitude for a while. I need to get over this somehow." He paused for a moment and looked at Sara who was staring at him disapprovingly. Sighing, he leaned back against the seat. "You think I'm going mad; well, if it's any consolation I think I am too." He tried to joke again lightly but it failed, only making Sara's despise the pity she was feeling for him.
She immediately stood up and knelt down in front of him, resting her hands on his knees. Yet Greg refused to look at her, just staring at the wall of the break room in front of him. Sara didn't know what was more startling. Greg crying or Greg trying to hide what he was feeling. The normally open, inextinguishable man in front of her was slowly being worn down; beaten by the horrors of a real world he had previously been secluded from.
To Sara, he looked haunted.
"You're not going mad, Greg. You're going through a rough time. You have a right to be scared."
Greg wiped the sleeve of his long jumper across his eyes whilst nodding. "I know, I know. Nick said the same thing, hell, I think even Grissom touched on it. Then again, he probably touched on several areas but it's Grissom you know, you can never tell what he's implying or if he's even worried." Greg wasn't even aware he was rambling, a stream of panicked words rolled off his tongue. "And it's not like I'm deliberately not appreciating the help but you can't see where I'm coming from in this situation. Sara, have you ever had a gun pointed at you? Right at your head, with someone's finger resting on the trigger, so delicately that even the slightest touch could…?" Finally, glassy eyes looked directly at Sara instead of the wall and all she could see in them was pain and fear.
She knew what he was asking. Nick had asked it once a long time ago. Could she even understand what it felt like to have your life hanging in the balance? Nick had had a gun pointed at him twice – he'd even pointed it at himself. "No," she said quietly. "But I did have a mental lunatic hold a knife to my neck. It comes under the same category. I know what it feels like to be...vulnerable and helpless." Trying to take his hand in hers she was startled when this time he pulled away abruptly. Looking up into his face, she tried not to let the strange action faze her. "You need to calm down."
Greg shrugged and stood up, breaking the contact with her intense gaze, and the feeling of her hands wishing to touch him. Standing up past her, he walked past the counter and leaned against it, seemingly in thought with his quivering hand resting by his mouth. Sara simply remained silent, not wanting to push him into anything that was likely to panic him or worse. It was a few moments before he spoke. He smiled sadly suddenly causing her to look up.
"You know, my mom used to say that my attitude would never get me far, acting like a kid. I think she was disappointed that I could never take things seriously like her. I figured I have a good use for it right now. And right when I need it, it's no longer there; it's swept from beneath me. Once upon a time, this wouldn't have phased me. I would have joked about how I'd been stupid enough to upstairs without taking you with me...or...or...I don't know. See, I can't even remember how I used to be." He sighed in frustration. "I could just about deal with seeing the things we do, Sara. I can manage externally seeing the results of one person being cruel to another and filling in the missing pieces.
But when it happened to me, it turned everything around. In there, when they pointed that gun at me, or at that little kid, I knew what the last second of a victim's life felt like. What it's like to watch someone actually die. And...and...I can't deal with all this, Sara, I need time, I can't do it..." His voice cracked and he turned away so his back was to her, ashamed of so being so openly emotional in front of Sara. He squeezed his eyes shut, begging for the tears to stay at bay.
Standing up, Sara walked across to him and grabbed his wrists to keep his hands to the sides and calm the agitated state he was working himself into. "Look at me, Greg," she tried to say calmly; tried to hide how scared she was by the changing persona in front of her. It was like literally watching someone's demeanour change.
"Don't, Sara." His plea in Sara's mind, sounded heartbreaking. She'd never heard him this defenceless before. She wondered whether he had pleaded in this same way to the gunmen.
"Greg, look at me!" Her hands moved to Greg's face now, lifting his head up to make sure the younger man was looking at her. "Greg, change is part of this, okay? It's part of this job. No one is expecting you to be the same after all this."
Shrugging, Greg leaned back against the counter again. "Nick is."
"What?"
"Aw, fuck, and I was such a bastard to him." At Sara's insistent and confused look, he hesitated before continuing. "I know he means well. I know all of you do and…I appreciate the fact that you're all concerned. I just can't deal with it all. Nick thinks he knows what's best for me and it's suffocating me."
"It's only because he wants to help."
"I know…I know." With a watery smiled, he said, "But how can he possibly expect me to get over this just like that when he's only just come to terms with his own ordeal." Greg took a deep breath and attempted to smile again. "I like getting attention. Although I'm not used to having this much and for all the wrong reasons. I just need some time. A way of getting over it which doesn't have everyone in the lab pointing me in certain directions."
"That's what psychiatrists are for, Greg. I may have been able to help you occasionally but I'm not always going to be here."
Greg shook his head immediately turning round and his fingers playing with the cuffs of his long sleeved jumper again. He bit his lip nervously, eyes becoming rapidly bright "Can't talk about it. Stop asking me. I can't even admit it to myself." The last thing person he wanted to admit to was Sara, someone he'd considered himself in love with for the best part of five years. He still was in love with her. For the last year, at least, they'd grown closer and Greg had learnt more from and about her than ever before. There was no way he would be willing to jeopardize it.
"Why not?" Sara asked, peering at him. They were standing so close that Greg felt a spark of fear and elation they were with each other's personal space. Her hands still lightly rested on his shoulders.
"I'm too scared of the whole process. The and...and…"
Sara frowned and pressed closer, sensing the underlying words to his hesitation. Stepping up to him, she put her hands on his upper arms and peered into his face "And what?" she whispered slowly, feeling time standing still.
"Asha..."
Before he could say anything more, the door to the break room opened and Grissom walked in, obviously searching for them. Immediately, Greg and Sara pulled apart, feeling embarrassed although they had effectively done nothing wrong. Greg cursed himself. Somehow, it always seemed, no matter what he did, Greg was in a position of humiliation in front of Grissom. Without a doubt, something would happen. Turning around, he walked to the counter to make himself a cup of coffee, quickly wiping his sleeve across both eyes to hide any indication of tears in front of his boss.
"Greg." Grissom took off his glasses and looked at his side profile inquisitively, in the way that made Greg want to shrink and disappear. "I wasn't expecting you here."
"Well...home's pretty quiet. Besides, I'm not really getting any answers there."
"Answers?" Greg nodded and Grissom's gaze drifted towards Sara briefly. "Well, Luca is about to be taken into questioning now. If you wanted to watch..."
Greg suddenly swallowed. When he meant answers, he hoped for some kind of a de briefing, possibly run down to Mia and see what was happening in DNA. Hell, he'd even strike a conversation with Hodges to see what was going on. He hadn't really expected to ever, hopefully, in the near future see Luca again. Let alone talk about the ordeal with him. But Grissom was looking at him expectantly and Sara seemed to be silently urging him on behind him so he relented and nodded, preparing himself for meeting his attacker again.
"I take it they're still not saying anything," Grissom questioned, walking down the corridor with Brass.
"Absolute zip. Of course, they're not denying it, they can't. They know the forensic evidence is mounted up against them. It's practically covering my desk. They're just not admitting to the third person involved in the shooting or why they did all this in the first place. Which is the part you want to know, right?"
Grissom nodded.
"What happened to 'we are the how and not the why?'"
"That changed when they dragged in one of my team," Grissom answered sternly. "We know they were responsible for shooting the de Marinez family but we don't know why. We don't even know why they stayed in the house to look for that piece of jewellery. They'll go take the murder rap for it all but this time I'm not going to get any peace from it unless I find out what really happened."
Brass frowned as he walked to catch up with Grissom. The man had a confident stride. Not many people were able to openly read Gill Grissom. When he wanted, the man could keep his emotions in a jar on a shelf. Jim Brass had a pass, though. "Is this really about your peace of mind? Or Greg's? Because from where I'm standing, this looks like the path of redemption for a guilt trip."
Grissom sighed as he put the file down in his office and sat down. At times like these, he wished no one was able to read him. "Jim. I wasn't able to help him in that house. I couldn't be there to tell him what to do when he needed it. And now I just don't know what to tell him. I can't...talk...to Greg and help him get over the pain he's dealing with right now. That's a job best suited for Catherine or Nick." Opening the file, he glanced down at the pages again to avoid the face of his friend. "All I can offer him is an explanation in the hope it will help."
Brass shrugged. "Well, I think you're being too hard on yourself. No one was able to do anything. If you or any of the SWAT team had gone into that house, and they would have seen on those cameras in that room, Greg, as well as that poor kid would have been dead. All you had was a phone connection. You did what you could."
The door suddenly opened and Catherine walked in. "Grissom," she said. "Ecklie wants to see us tomorrow at ten. Will you remember that? Or should I set some kind of timer for you." A slight quirk of the mouth let him know she was joking.
Grissom smiled back. "I'll manage to remember."
"Good. And by the way, Greg is in the lab. He's in the break room. I thought he was still on medical leave."
Frowning, Grissom looked back up. "He is."
Brass looked at his watch and sighed. "Well, I'm going back in to interrogate Luca Lusardo. The guy's been sitting and stewing for a while so let's hope he's willing to talk given the mountain of evidence against him. You going to come in with me? Greg can observe...if he wants to that is. If you're not going to send him home."
Grissom nodded and stood up, walking towards the break room. From the window, he could see him standing up and talking with Sara. Not wanting to interrupt straight away, Grissom simply observed and watched. For a second, Greg looked on the verge of breaking down into tears or at least trying to control it. In a matter of minutes, Sara had managed to calm him down. It amazed Grissom, really. Once upon a time, Sara would never have walked a foot inside Greg's personal space and now here she was comforting him like he meant something to her.
Grissom liked to think he observed and noticed everything plain in sight and those which weren't as conspicuous. However, he had to admit that it was only just now occurring to him the possibility that maybe an office romance was growing in front of his eyes. Or maybe, Grissom thought to himself, he had been unwilling to admit it to himself.
Walking inside the break room, he pretended not to notice how close they were standing, although it was evident by how far they jumped back from one another. "Greg," he said in surprise. "I wasn't expecting you here."
Greg shrugged apathetically. "Well...home's pretty quiet. Besides, I'm not really getting any answers there."
"Answers? Well, Luca and Tony are about to be taken into questioning now. If you wanted to watch..."
Grissom could have sworn he saw a slightly nauseous look pass across Greg's face and was about to revoke the invitation when Greg swallowed before nodding.
A quarter of an hour later, Greg found himself sitting on the table with his feet resting on the chair as he looked through the glass into the interrogation room. Sara watched him from not far away, ready to be there in case anything happened; in case something was said to upset Greg. Through the window was Luca Lusardo. Four days later, he looked no different. If anything, he looked more worn out than when Greg saw him before. Still, he felt no sympathy for the man who had threatened him numerously.
"Now, let's clear up some things here," Brass started, sitting across from him. "We got a whole stack of evidence so I can just take my pick here. Most of it is against you but I figured you knew that anyway. Of all the bullets taken from the victims, two of them came from you: the boy and the cop. Which says that you didn't kill the Marinez family, but you were involved. What did you get involved in, a mob killing?"
Luca's eyebrows rose in surprise. Then he released a sudden chuckle, like he thought this a personal joke. "You think this about a mob killing? You think I'm part of some gang hired to hit out Sam de Marinez? Did my records show that too?"
Brass shrugged. "You tell me. Right now, that's what it looks like. Did he do something to piss your boss off?"
Rolling his eyes, Luca leaned back in his chair as if the conversation bored. "I am not telling you shit."
Brass shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, it doesn't matter if you tell us anyway. You're still doing the time. You killed a cop, which was probably the stupidest thing you did in that room. Oh, wait, you also held a CSI captive in a room for a couple of hours and shot a boy in the back while he was running. You're one of the heartless criminals I've met and thankfully the justice system likes putting people like you away or just giving you the death penalty. So you may as well start your last rites here by telling us what happened."
Luca shrugged and looked towards the window with a cocky smile on his face. Greg's eyes immediately flickered away to his hands, unwilling to make any contact at all, even if the man couldn't see through the glass to him. The knowledge that Luca knew he was there made him feel unsafe again.
"Can't Greg tell you? I mean, he was there too. Or is he too frightened to talk about."
"Why did you kill the de Marinez family?"
"You know, technically, the boy didn't really have to die. It wasn't nearly as satisfactory as watching Sam de Marinez take his own last gulps of life. He watched his wife die and then his mother die. And then he died. And he deserved it too the self pretentious bastard."
Brass frowned and glanced over at Grissom, hoping the CSI wouldn't suddenly lose his temper. Even he was beginning to get impatient and the worst thing was that Luca knew they were desperate to know. And he exploited it by agitating them. Brass forced the most sardonic smile on his face. "Was that a confession?"
"It's whatever you twist it into being. I didn't kill the de Marinez family, though."
Brass slammed his hands down on the table and leaned forward. "Who did?" he demanded dangerously. "I'm beginning to lose my patience here and I can admit to that. Four days of running round in circles is quite enough for me." Luca remained quiet, just staring at Brass in a defiant way.
"You're already going to the chair," Grissom said quietly from the darkened corner. "You'll be dead while your partner will just be spending twenty five years in prison. And you're still be taking the fall for all of this while the other remaining guy goes free."
"I'm not afraid of any death penalty." Luca shrugged indifferently. "It was going to happen sooner or later."
A moment of silence descended on them. Brass didn't want to appear as though he was losing his cool although this was rapidly turning into one of those few times where resisting the urge to play bad cop was hard. However, slamming Luca's head into a wall would only give satisfaction for a few moments. Grissom remained passive for a few seconds before taking out a sealed plastic evidence bag and looking at it before turning it around to show Luca. It was a photograph of a necklace which they'd found on the floor of the room when they'd apprehended the two gunmen.
"Was this worth it?" Grissom asked quietly stonily.
Luca looked over at the photograph and then a sly smile crossed his lips as though he was thinking of a distant memory. "Yeah, it was actually, in the end."
"You killed an entire family for one necklace. Was it worth a lot of money?"
Luca laughed, straightening his chair back upright and putting his elbows on the table. "Why does everybody always think it's about money? There are other motives for murder."
"Revenge?"
"Retribution is a better word. Sam de Marinez was a murderer."
Brass rolled his eyes. "Funny. I didn't see murder on his rap sheet. Extortion, yes. But no murder."
"I suppose you have to read between the lines. Look for the subtext."
Brass stood up, walking towards the window to try and calm his nerves.
Greg and Sara watched from the other side. For the most part, Sara noticed that Greg spent little time looking through the window but he was undoubtedly listening. His face was creased into a frown yet he looked nervous: as if he suspected something bad would come out of Luca. Sara herself was quite concerned. Of the two gunmen Sara had seen, Luca seemed much more dangerous than the one currently in hospital. His more muscular build and the attitude he was presenting gave him a threatening appearance. Sara cast yet another worried glance at Greg; worried how he had managed to spend all that time in the room with him. She guessed most of his visible injuries were a result of this man.
"Are you trying to turn this murder into a puzzle?" Grissom suddenly asked, frowning in annoyance.
Luca shrugged. "Isn't that what they are anyway? Isn't that your job, Mr Grissom? To solve the puzzle. My situation is no different to the one you're facing right now."
Grissom raised an eyebrow in question and pushed himself off the wall. "How so?"
"You'd do anything to protect your family, wouldn't you? If someone hurts your family you have an urge to do something back. It's a natural reaction. There's a bit of an 'eye for an eye' in all of us. And let's face it. I hurt your little CSI rookie and underneath all that calm you're just itching to do something, aren't you? Aren't you just desperate to find out what happened to him equally as much as the family?"
"Did Sam de Marinez do something personally to you?"
"I guess that's something you're going to have to find out on your own because I'm not telling you shit..."
"If Sam de Marinez was who you were mad at, why take out the whole family?" Brass shouted.
"Like I said!" Luca yelled back, slamming his hands on the ground, making everyone, including Greg, jump visibly. "The boy didn't have to die. If he hadn't tried to escape. I suppose you got your CSI kid to blame for that, trying to be all heroic. But between you and me,"—his eyes flickered back to the window briefly—"Greg didn't really know what he was doing in there. He was scared shitless. But he handled it pretty well...sometimes. I only saw him distraught twice. Once when I shot the kid and the other time...you'll have to ask him about that, won't you. When he sums up the courage to talk..."
Greg stood up angrily and opened the door to observation room and went out into the corridor. Thankfully it was empty. When the door slammed shut behind him he put his hands to the side of his head and swore repeatedly to himself. He couldn't sit there and listen to Luca showing him off. He didn't want to be there when they found out what had happened while he was in the room with them. Sure, he wanted to know the story about the murder, but not the additional story about himself. It made him want to curl up in embarrassment. The worst thing was, eventually it would come out.
"Greg?" Sara asked putting a hand on her shoulder as he whirled round in surprise, his breath catching in his throat. "Are you okay?"
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I didn't mean to freak out. I'm just...can't listen to it."
Sara nodded in understanding. "Do you want to go back home?" Greg shook his head and continued pacing up and down the corridor in a jittery fashion. "We'll just go back to the lab." Directing him down the corridor, holding his arm, Sara grew more concerned the more she looked at Greg. The more she thought about it, the more prepared she was to agree with Grissom, however horrible it was. Something bad happened in that room.
They drove in silence. Greg stared blindly out of the passenger window. He felt too tired and too lethargic to do anything more at the moment. The scene in the interrogation room would be enough for the moment. Hopefully he would be able to sleep tonight and not think about it. He was well aware Sara had been watching and still was watching him. Yet Greg continued staring and let her ponder.
"Do you know when I was most scared?" Sara suddenly asked in the car as they drove back to the lab. He paused for a few moments and then shook his head against the window pane. Sara took a deep breath inside, her voice breaking ever so slightly. "When I realized I couldn't do anything for you. When you finally got you out of that house, out of the door and you wouldn't look at anyone. You didn't even look or react to me."
Greg looked at her for a few moments driving, trying to find some useful words to dislodge themselves from his throat and come out. But he had nothing to say. He wasn't even sure why she had told him this. Wordlessly, he rested his head against the window again and didn't move until they reached the lab.
Brass sighed. "Well, that was a pointless waste of time," he muttered as they got back to the crime lab. "We barely got anything from them."
"No, we got something. This has been the most progressive interview so far with Luca. He inadvertently lets something lose each time, which is more to go on than before. Have you not questioned Greg yet about what happened?"
"It's on my to-do list but each time I ask he makes an excuse or just plain refuses to talk. His testimony of events to what happened, specifically to death of Alex de Marinez and anything he may have heard of seen in that room is vital. But I can't get him to talk to me and from what I hear, he's not talking to you."
Grissom looked at the ground. From the very beginning, as soon as Greg had woken up in the hospital room, he knew the road to recovery would not be an easy one. And whenever he looked at the younger CSI, it was evident he was hiding something, keeping everything inside. It was the same haunted look that Nick had when he was taken out of that coffin. They locked up everything they wanted to talk about a fast. They just had to wriggle the key to the box of memories a little more.
"We'll get him to talk eventually. I'm going to DNA. There's something more to this. I don't believe an entire family was killed because of a necklace. This revenge means something significant." With that they dispersed and Grissom went down to the DNA lab. "Mia, I need you to do me a favour."
"Sure. I'm not working on anything at the moment. Ecklie must be giving days some pretty petty cases."
"I need you to run a test for me. Pull up Tony Ranciotti's and Luca Lusardo's DNA and compare them to each otherfor me, would you?"
Without waiting for an answer, he left, wandering down the halls again to the break room, seemingly unsurprised to find Sara and Greg in there again. It was evident that they had left earlier and Grissom could only assume it had been Greg's decision. Once more, the nagging feeling of Greg keeping what happened welled up in him again. He entered the once again empty break room and sat down on the other side of the younger CSI, who held a cup of coffee in his hands. Greg barely even acknowledged his presence but remained stationary.
"Greg," Grissom started, uncertain as to why he was feeling awkward. He'd rarely had a meaningful conversation with him. With Nick it had been easy. At first he had been unwilling to talk but Grissom knew that Nick's want for his attention would make him open up eventually. Suddenly, it felt much harder with Greg. "I know you don't want to say anything just yet. I will need it eventually but can we try in small doses at the moment. I need to make this case stick and you can help me with a part of that."
Greg nodded. From the very beginning he knew that eventually what had to come out, would come out. He waited for prompts from Grissom. Sara's hand rested gently on his back, still but occasionally moving in a circle.
"When you first spoke to me on the phone, you said that Alex de Marinez was with you in the room so he was alive. Did you see what happened to him afterwards?" Grissom asked quietly.
There was a few moments pause before Greg nodded, staring at his rapidly cooling coffee, preferring that than to have to face Sara or Grissom. "Yeah. I saw him get shot if that's what you mean."
"Did you see Luca Lusardo shoot him?"
Greg nodded again. He lowered his head, the comforting feel of Sara's hand on his back and the understanding from both of them. "Yeah…When he tried to run away."
Grissom smiled in understanding. "Thank you, Greg."
However, saying that statement didn't quell the guilt he was feeling. "It was my fault," he murmured as Grissom stood up to leave. He turned back round, an inquisitive expression once again on his face as he stood by the door. With no prompting, he allowed Greg to continue. "I thought I'd be saving him if I told him to run at that moment so at least he would get out safely. You told me to protect him. And I tried, Grissom, I really did, but it was the wrong moment."
He took a deep breath and looked up and Grissom. "I just wanted to save him. And I may not have pulled the trigger and shot him. But I killed him."
It was one of those moral dilemmas, Grissom knew. Externally, it was evident where the line was drawn. But when you were involved in the event itself, suddenly the line blurs. Suddenly you think of all you could have done—all you could have done differently—and start blaming yourself. In hindsight there were a lot of things one could change if only they had that chance again. Grissom looked down at Greg and realized Greg was learning a lot of these lessons the hard way. They arrived on a scene after the death. There's nothing they could have done to prevent it. Greg didn't know how to take over a situation like that. It was understandable.
"Greg," Grissom said quietly, but sternly. "I want you to stop thinking about it from now on. Because it's not your fault. Nothing that happened in there was." And with that, he walked out of the room, barricading himself in his office.
TBC...
Please read and review. I can see the hit count, don't think I don't know you're out there! It gives an authoress great encouragement to know her story is liked!
pistonsgirl074: I think the story is going to take that turn where one part confuses and drops hints and the next one begins to make light of them.
Dattatreya: Yes, the Latin words mean exactly that. I'm kind of on a Latin spree at the moment, I thought they sounded quite effective as chapter titles. They're either that or incredibly tacky, lol.
Boboskiwatin: Well, oi to you too. Thanks for reviewing.
Kate Maxwell: Yes way. And as for the recovery part, he might get there, he might not. I'm still deciding, lol.
Sillie: He does blame himself. And as you've probably read, there's even more self blaming!
Goody: Thank you again for your review, it's really insightful. Most dialogue/wording I usually just blame on the fact I'm British, lol. It's easier. I was hoping to just take a typical plot and try to make something original out of it!