Chapter Three: Truths

It wasn't the smartest thing he had ever done, but at this point in time he couldn't find the strength to care. He sipped the cold liquid, relishing in the refreshing taste as he leaned his head back against the pillow, closing his eyes. After all, he had taken the Ibuprofen tablets nearly twenty minutes ago, as long as he was reasonable he should be fine. At any rate, he desperately needed something to calm him down.

He reached behind him, setting the open beer down on the table as he moved his attention back to his arm, lifting the ice packet off his skin. The drive home had been a horrible experience, finding out the hard way he could no longer lift his arm above shoulder level. Driving with one hand wasn't a problem, but the steady ache in his bruised arm constantly distracted him. Often he found he couldn't move his fingers, several times they had gone numb. It was beginning to worry him.

Now that he as at home, his mind unoccupied, he felt the pain growing, even though he was no longer using it. Once arriving home he had collected a handful of items from his bedroom, pulling out a single blanket and several pillows. He had taken the pills, grabbed a beer and an ice pack, settling down on the couch. One pillow rested behind him, the other on top of his chest which he crossed his arm over.

Looking at it now it seemed as though the swelling had gone down, but it was hard to tell at this angle, and Greg wasn't about to move his arm more than necessary. Part of him knew he should seek some sort of medical attention. As time went on it was obvious that it was more than a simple bruise. Another part of him was in denial. He kept reassuring himself that everything was going to be fine, the only reason it hurt so much was because he was stressed.

He fought off a yawn, leaning back against the pillow as he turned his head away from the television set. Greg wasn't about to deal with it now. He was passed exhausted, and depression was starting to set in. No one at the lab believed his story…save for Sara perhaps.

It was just like a bad dream, he reassured himself quietly. By tomorrow everyone would have forgotten about it. He would give Warrick some time to cool down; maybe then the man wouldn't be so cross.

He didn't look up until she knocked on the door, although he knew she had been standing there for a while. It was then he acknowledged her with a nod, returning to his work as she came in.

"Can I help you with something?" he inquired, his eyes skimming over the paperwork.

"Yeah…actually you can. Ecklie handed me a new case…"

"And you want me to me to transfer it to someone else."

"I know," Sara let out a sigh, her arms crossed over her chest as she walked closer to the one wall, taking time to admire his collection. "There's nothing you can do, but I don't know how Ecklie expects me to work both cases. He wants the incident report on his desk by the end of the week, and at the moment I have three eye witnesses waiting for me to take their statements. I can't be in two places at once."

Grissom took a moment to look up at her, but never met her eyes as her back was turned towards him. "Well then…go with the case, work on the report later.

She turned sideways, watching him. "I can't finish everything on my own in three days. That's unrealistic."

"What do you want me to do?" Grissom asked tiredly, already shaking his head. It was always pressing when Sara came to him like this. He hated being the bad guy, but her requests were ones he could not fill.

"I'd like some help," she suggested.

"I can't spare Nick or Catherine," he argued. "This hit and run is top priority."

She let out a sigh, becoming quiet. She had no real argument towards that, but her brow furled as she began to think. "Put Greg with me."

He looked up at her again, frowning. "Do you really think that's the best idea concerning all that's happened?"

"Not you too," Sara complained, closing her eyes as she drew in a breath. "Come on Grissom, you can't sit there and tell me that you think Greg actually did this."

He shook his head, his attention back on the file. "It's not a matter of what I think, but how Greg feels about it."

"How Greg feels?" Sara wondered briefly, moving to sit down in the chair across from him.

"He certainly not getting the favor from the rest of the lab, and he may feel apprehensive working with you."

"I'm certain he'll feel a lot less apprehensive working with me than working with Warrick."

Grissom nodded, "Remind me to talk with him, he's experienced enough to know better. At fault or not Greg doesn't deserve that kind of treatment. I'll tell you what, if Greg wants to work with you, he's all yours."

"Great," Sara gave him a single nod, pushing herself to a standing position, "That's all I needed."

He had ignored his cell, though the phone had gone off a total of three different times. Instead he had buried his head into the pillow, praying that whoever was calling would quickly realize that he wasn't going to answer. It had been hard enough to fall asleep, the pain in his arm a constant reminder of what had happened earlier.

Now he was attempting to fall asleep before he woke up completely. Greg let out a sigh as his cell fell silent once again, relaxing back into the folds of the blanket he had wrapped about himself.

As if on cue his house phone went off, eliciting a groan from deep within his throat. He opened a single eye, glaring at the device as it rang again. Obviously they were determined; he knew instinctively it was work. They were the only ones who called him so persistently.

He rolled over, working his way out of the blanket as the phone rang a third time. He wasn't sure if he wanted to answer, but at the same time he knew they would only keep calling until he did. Pushing himself up he reached out, only to curse as the pain soared through his arm. He pulled it back quickly, resting it against his chest as he pushed himself up to a sitting position.

Waiting for the pain to subside he reached up with his right hand, picking up the receiver.

"Sanders," he breathed lightly, leaning back against the cushions.

"You should really check your cell," Sara's voice wafted through, a hint of mirth could be detected.

"Hasn't gone off all night," Greg lied, stretching out his bruised arm. It felt as though it was heavy, and he bit back a groan as his fingers began to tingle once again.

"How are you doing?" Her voice had changed suddenly, causing Greg to frown in worry. Did she know something was wrong? Greg shook his head, of course not…how could she?

"What do you mean?" his voice was breathless as he asked the question, the worry still evident, though he tried to mask it.

"With Warrick I mean…" Sara explained quietly, "You're not letting him get under your skin, are you?"

He let out a breath, closing his eyes in as he whispered a prayer before answering. She didn't know after all. "Yeah…yeah I'm good."

"You feel like working? I can really use an extra hand."

Greg nodded quickly, "When do you need me?"

"As soon as you can get here."

"Alright," he glanced sideways at the clock on his wall. "Give me ten minutes or so, I'll be there."

He wasn't sure really what he had done; it would have been easier to say no. Greg let out a sigh as he hung up, his attention turning down towards his arm. He flexed his fingers, curling them into a fist. The action was painful, but not nearly as much as before. Pushing himself to his feet, he dropped the blanket on the couch, heading straight into the bathroom.

Turning the water on Greg moved to pull his shirt off, wincing at the painful movement. He hadn't changed clothes since coming home, and now he knew why. Even moving slowly, his arm wasn't cooperating, the limb was stiff, unresponsive sometimes. He was hoping the warm water would help relax it. At any rate it took a long time, much longer than he expected. He was already an hour late by the time he pulled fresh clothes on, and he still had drive in.

"You're late," Sara commented as he walked in.

"You want to tell me something I don't know?" Greg replied sarcastically, coming up next to her. "I had trouble finding my car keys."

"So you don't bother to call in?" she wondered dimly.

"I would if I thought it would speed things up," Greg offered. "What do we have?"

"Arson," she pulled off her lab coat, standing up as she did so. "Waiting for us when we're ready. I already took the statements, three different people, three different stories."

"The usual," Greg shook his head, giving her a grin. Most of the time eyewitnesses weren't the best source, others, they could be helpful.

Sara took a step back, raising an eyebrow as she studied him. "Cold?" she wondered, doing her best not too laugh. The long black sweater seemed out of place for Greg, especially considering they were moving into the summer season. At night it was a different matter, when the cases took you away from the heart of the city, but now they would be headed into near triple degree heat.

"Is that a crime?" Greg replied, his grin turning suddenly into a frown. It wasn't his first choice. He was already uncomfortable just in the lab and that was air-conditioned, there was no telling how things would go once he got outside. However, it was only shirt he had with long sleeves that was clean.

Sara met his frown with one of her own, taken aback by his rough question. "I didn't mean anything," she apologized quickly, "I was just…"

"I'm sorry," Greg interrupted her, taking in a breath. "I didn't sleep very much. I didn't mean to snap like that."

She nodded, her concern still evident. "If you need some sleep…I can handle this on my own."

Greg shook his head, "I'm okay, let's just get going."

Sara let out a sigh, watching him leave. Somehow she had that funny feeling that it was going to be a long day.

The house was small, something they were both grateful for. Greg wasn't sure how much longer he could work with his arm. Most of the tasks he could one handed, but not all of them. Sara wanted to wrap the case up quickly, anxious to get back to her first one. The sooner she figured out what happen, the sooner she could patch things up between the two men.

She knew that Greg wasn't at fault; she just had to prove it now. Warrick wouldn't listen to her, she wasn't sure what was bothering the man, he was usually more grounded than this. She knew he had been in a bad mood earlier that night, rumors stated that he had a brush with Ecklie earlier, and his odd silence confirmed that fact.

Sara knelt down next to the couch, or what was left of it, skimming the burnt remains. Her gaze lifted from the charred material to Greg, who was working several feet away, his own flashlight skimming the walls. It wasn't like Greg to get snappy either.

Her frown deepened as she watched his hand snake into his pocket, pulling out a small white tube. She watched, concerned now as he brought it towards his mouth, out of her view. "Greg?"

He turned to her quickly, raising a questioning eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

Greg let out a breath, resisting the urge to shrug. He had already done so once, regretting the action. Sara was obviously waiting for an answer, pressing him for time. He blurt out the first thing that came to his mind. "Just eating some mints…"

It was a ridiculous answer, deserving of the surprised look Sara gave him. Greg turned away quickly, trying to focus on finding trace evidence. He didn't want to lie to her, but he didn't want to admit he was taking painkillers. It was one of the reasons why he was so late in arriving at the lab, a quick stop at the store to pick up something stronger for the pain. If he could make it through today, he was confident he would be fine.

"Eating?" Sara repeated, watching him with a frown. "This is a crime scene Greg; you're not supposed to be eating anything."

"Sorry," Greg muttered, keeping his voice low. As long as he didn't have to explain himself it was fine what Sara thought.

She shook her head, but let it pass. It surprised her, but she was confident that Greg would learn in time. This was one of the reasons she wanted Greg working with her…Warrick wouldn't have been so patient. She let out a breath, wishing she could sort everything out, wishing she had all the answers. The rest of the time went by quickly, and soon they found themselves back at the lab. Greg had already gone ahead of her, leaving her to clear out the rest of the collected evidence. She reached over the seat, grabbing the single bag he had left behind in the car, pausing when she lifted it up.

On the floor under the bag was the small tube Greg had earlier, and she frowned, shaking her head. Greg would have to do a better job of paying attention to what he left behind. She leaned over again, grasping the small vial, but was startled as the lid slid off, the contents sliding out onto the floor of the vehicle. The small white pills glared up at her, covered only by the shadow of her hand as she reached down, picking several up. Sara wasn't sure what they were, but she knew for certain that they weren't mints as Greg had suggested earlier…

She shook her head; it couldn't be possible, could it? Sara almost laughed the notion off, would have, that was, if it wasn't so serious. She took in a breath, seating herself in the front seat of the car. Greg was taking drugs…

TBC