A/N: Usual disclaimer still and always will apply. This is the first semi-happy chapter of this story. Yay. An almost return to normalcy for Greg. Oh, and this chapter is a Part 1 simply because I use a different part of the song in a later chapter. But in any case…
Chapter 12- The Reason (Part 1)
"I'm not a perfect person
There's many things I wish I didn't do
But I continue learning
I never meant to do those things to you
And so I have to say before I go
That I just want you to know
I found a reason for me
To change who I used to be
A reason to start over new
And the reason is you"
The Reason by Hoobastank
Grissom poked his head in the room. "Hey, Greg, you up for a small, hyperactive visitor?" he asked, smiling slightly as he attempted to restrain Nicola from going in. Greg's face showed confusion but his eyes were as dead as ever.
Grissom could no longer restrain the girl, and she dashed into the room with the boundless energy that Greg used to have. Greg's mouth dropped open, first in shock and then in an "Oomph!" as Nicola flopped on his stomach. He winced in pain as she hit his still-tender bruises. "Nicola," he gasped, pulling her off of his ribs and seating her next to him. "What are you doing here?"
She turned to him and planted a big butterfly kiss on his cheek, then replied, "Uncle Gil asked if I wanted to visit you."
Greg grinned down at her, the first genuine smile he'd given in weeks. "Well, I'm glad you came," he said, getting slightly choked up as he said it.
She gave him a shy grin, and then snuggled up next to him, suddenly serious. "Greg, why don't you want to get better?"
Greg sighed, then turned his head away. "I guess I just don't have any reason to get better." He turned back to her, trying to smile, but the sadness remained in his eyes. "No one needs me."
Grissom opened his mouth to protest but Nicola beat him to it. "We need you. When I needed you to take my daddy away, you were there. What if someone else needs you, too? That's why you have to get better. Cuz we need you."
It was in those simple words that Greg saw the truth. He saw all the victims of rape and murder and crime that he had been able to help. Those were the people who needed him.
"And," continued Nicola, more hesitantly, "because you're my hero."
Greg started and sat upright. "Why?" he asked. "Why am I your hero?"
"Because you saved my life," she answered simply.
It was then that Greg knew he'd go back to the crime lab. Perhaps he had known it all along, but now he saw it with crystal-clear certainty.
Greg Sanders had found his will to live.
Nicola and Greg talked for over an hour after that, Greg's eyes glowing in amusement as he relentlessly tickled her. Grissom looked on, a smile growing larger and larger as he watched the two. He hated to break them up, but he finally had to clear his throat and say, "Nicola, your mom's going to be here any minute now."
Nicola and Greg sat up, wiping tears of laughter off their cheeks. "Alright, Griss, alright," said Greg. He turned to Nicola and said seriously, "Thanks, Nicola. I feel better than I've felt in a long time."
She gazed at him and said cheerfully, "You're welcome, Greg. Now all you have to do is get better."
Greg nodded. "Will do."
An orderly poked her head in the room. "Mr. Grissom, there's a woman here for her daughter."
Nicola slid off the bed, then turned to give Greg a hug. "Bye, Greg!"
"Bye, Nicola. Be good, alright?"
"Oh, I will," she said with a roguish wink that emulated Greg so much it made Grissom laugh aloud.
"C'mere, you," growled Greg, pulling her to him and hugging her once more. "I love you, Nicola. Remember that."
"I love you, too, Greg," she said, kissing him once more on the cheek before allowing the orderly to lead her out.
Greg lay back against his pillow, brow furrowing in confusion as he pondered everything. Grissom sat on the edge of the bed and asked quietly, "Well?"
"Why am I her hero?" asked Greg, just as quietly. "Why me, of all people?"
"Why are any of our heroes our heroes?" returned Grissom.
"But why me, of all the CSIs? Why not the police who brought her father in? Why not you?"
"I don't know."
"I'm not worthy of it."
"Who is?"
Greg sighed and looked down. "I shouldn't be a hero. I don't deserve it."
"Greg, you are a hero to so many people, some who you have never and will never meet. You are a hero, even an unknown one, to every person who was a potential victim of every serial killer and rapist you helped lock up. You are a hero to the victims and their families. It's like what Joseph Campbell said. 'A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself...' That's what you've done, Greg. It's what you do everyday."
He let Greg digest this for a minute before asking, "Will you come back?"
"I want to, but I don't know how."
"Well, for starters, do something with your hair. Now I know why you gel it; it looks ridiculous otherwise. I'm half-tempted to cut it off!"
"You wouldn't dare!" cried Greg in mock-terror, reaching for the hair gel on his bedside table.
"And here," continued Grissom, "put something respectable on!" He tossed a pair of jeans and a t-shirt on Greg's bed.
Greg laughed aloud, then headed toward the bathroom. He paused, then turned back to Grissom, saying, "Thanks, Griss." He looked Grissom in the eyes. "Thanks for everything." He disappeared into the bathroom.
Grissom smiled, thinking, It was all worth it, Greggo, just to see the light back in your eyes.
A/N: The end part about the hair is not a dig at Eric Szmanda's current hair, which I actually kind of like.