A/N: So, this chapter hinges on the fact that in episode 507, Ecklie was made Assistant Director of the lab. Therefore, I pressumed there was a director above him. Now, Ecklie's status may have changed or I could just be retarded, but that's neither here nor there. Usual disclaimer applies as always. I don't own the term "emo", nor do I own Nick's half-right explanation of it. Now, ONWARD!

Chapter 39- I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing

"I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
Cuz I'd miss you, babe,
And I don't want to miss a thing
Cuz even when I dream of you
The sweetest dream would never do
I'd still miss you, babe
And I don't want to miss a thing

And I don't want to miss one smile
And I don't want to miss one kiss
I just wanna be with you, right here with you
Just like this
And I just wanna hold you close
Feel your heart so close to mine
And just stay here in this moment
For all the rest of time"

I Don't Want to Miss a Thing by Aerosmith

Greg stared at the clock as the red second hand slid around the white face. He sighed as the minute hand ticked once more, leading it closer to the twelve, but still not close enough. He sighed again and turned back to the small pile of evidence on one corner of his desk. With over a half-hour left before he got to go home to his girls, he had time enough to run one more sample at least. He uttered a deep sigh and reached for an evidence bag containing a cup that needed to have the saliva on it run. With yet another sigh, he swabbed it and set to work running it through CODIS and coming up with a DNA profile.

Catherine stood outside the lab, a worried expression on her face as she watched the lab tech sigh again. "Hey, Griss," she called, small frown creasing her forehead. "Take a look at Greg."

Grissom came over and watched the lab tech hunched over his table, sighing every time he glanced at the clock. "He seems in a melancholy mood," remarked Grissom. "What do you think is wrong with him?"

Catherine gave him a look. "Hm, I wonder...Could it be the fact that he's here when he would much rather be spending his valuable time with his daughters and wife while he still can? Could it be the fact that he's slowly dying of a disease that he could not control or prevent? Or maybe it's because Ecklie denied his request to work only three nights a week."

"What!" exclaimed Grissom. "Ecklie denied his request? On what grounds?"

"I believe it was failure to report mishandling of evidence in a timely manner, although don't hold me on that." She sighed. "Basically, Griss, he gave Greg some crap reason or another and now Greg is stuck here, six nights a week, instead of being at home, where he should be, taking care of his children and his wife."

Grissom growled, deep in his throat. "Son of a…" he muttered darkly, shooting daggers in the direction of Ecklie's office. Suddenly, he turned and strode off in the opposite direction.

"Griss!" called Catherine after him, practically jogging to catch up. "Where are you going?"

"Ecklie may be assistant director of the lab," said Grissom calmly, but with anger radiating from him, "but there are people above him." He paused at the door and looked back at Catherine. "Wish me luck. I'm going to see the director."

Almost an hour later, Grissom marched triumphantly into the lab, smile on his face. "Hey Nick," he called to the Texan as he passed him. "Greg went home already, right?"

Nick shook his head, almost sadly. "No, he's still here. Day shift tech called in sick, so Ecklie told Greg he's working overtime. Needless to say, Greg's not too happy. He's in his 'emo-Greg' mood, as Hodges likes to call it."

"Emo-Greg?" asked Grissom, raising an eyebrow at Nick.

Nick shrugged. "You know, emo…emotional…It's a style of music and apparently a style of dressing, too." When Grissom still looked at him blankly, Nick sighed and said, "All it means is Greg's not happy, alright?"

"Ah," said Grissom in understanding. He looked quizzically at Nick. "What about the swing shift tech? Couldn't Ecklie have called him in?"

"Sure," said Nick with a shrug, "but he didn't. Ever since you and Hodges overruled his firing Greg, he's kind of had this vendetta against him."

Grissom shook his head and sighed. "Alright, thanks." He kept walking, heading straight to Greg's lab. Opening the door and entering, he watched as Greg wearily ran some evidence. Grissom wanted to give him a hug and tell him to cheer up, but instead he said, "Greg, go home."

Greg blinked at Grissom. "Sorry, can't," he said, setting a Petri dish on the table with more force than was necessary. "Or haven't you heard? Ecklie's apparently decided to make me the indentured servant of the lab."

Grissom was almost surprised by the venom that dripped from Greg's words. "Greg, it's ok," he said gently. "Just go home."

Greg gave him a look full of pent-up rage and frustration. "Grissom, no offense, but you're just my supervisor. You have no say in whether I work overtime or not."

"He's right, Gil," said Ecklie from the door. He swaggered into the room and smirked at Greg with a smile that curled his lip and didn't meet his eyes. "Here, process this." He set several evidence bags down on the desk.

"Thanks," said Greg stiffly, not meeting Ecklie's eyes. He shuffled forward and grabbed the top bag to begin processing it.

"Tell me, Conrad," said Grissom icily, "do you enjoy making everyone's life miserable? Or is it just Greg's?"

Greg looked up at Grissom, surprised. Ecklie's smile faltered slightly. "I'd watch it, Gil," he said slowly. "You're out of line."

"Is that why you hate Greg, Conrad? Because he gets out of line? Or is it because he's so good and so well liked, you can't even fire him? Because honestly, Ecklie, you shouldn't take out your social ineptitude on Greg."

"You're bordering on insubordination," warned Ecklie through clenched teeth.

"Actually, I think I already crossed it," said Grissom lightly. He looked over at Greg, who was posed over the evidence like a deer in headlights. "I thought I told you to go home, Greg."

"Gil, I believe, as you well know, that this is not your jurisdiction," said Ecklie, calm exterior beginning to shatter. "It's not your decision whether or not Mr. Sanders works overtime today."

"No, it's mine," interrupted a voice from the doorway. Grissom looked over and hid a smile. It was the director, who winked quickly at Grissom before turning back to Ecklie. "Conrad, let's talk outside for a moment, shall we?"

"Of course," said Ecklie silkily, glaring daggers at Grissom as he followed the Director out into the hall.

Grissom smirked at Ecklie and turned victoriously to Greg. "I don't think you'll need to worry about Ecklie anymore."

"Thanks Griss," said Greg, breaking into the first genuine smile he'd had all night. "For sticking up for me and all." He paused, then asked uncertainly, "You did mean all those things, right? About why Ecklie can't fire me?"

"Always, Greggo," said Grissom with a smile.

"Cool," said Greg, relief shining in his eyes. He glanced up at the clock. "Can I go home now?"

"Yes, you may," answered Grissom, hiding a smile.

Greg whooped loudly and grabbed his stuff, practically running for the door. He opened it, gave Grissom another huge grin, and then he was gone.

Shaking his head and still smiling, Grissom left the lab. Passing by Ecklie being chewed out by the director, Grissom couldn't help but smile even wider.

Greg let himself into the house as quietly as he could. Even though it was after six, he wasn't sure if anyone was still sleeping, and he didn't want to wake them up. Tip-toeing through the house, he stopped by Nicola's room to check on her. She was fast asleep, sprawled over the bed with one hand holding the arm of her teddy bear.

Greg smiled briefly before closing the door and crossing to Freya's room. She was awake, and gurgled happily when she saw her father. "Hey, sweetheart," whispered Greg, reaching in and picking her up. "What're you doing up so early? You're supposed to be asleep, dreaming your happy baby dreams."

Freya just giggled and blew a spit bubble in response. Greg grinned at her. "Alright," he relented, "You can come with me while I get myself a drink, but you can't tell your mother, ok?"

He carried her into the kitchen and over to the sink. Setting her down on the counter, he opened the cabinet and pulled out about ten to fifteen different pill bottles. He counted out all his pills and carried them over to the table before going back for Freya and a glass of water.

Gulping them down two or three at a time, Greg made a face as he swallowed each pill. Freya cooed happily as she watched her father. Greg wrinkled his nose at her before tickling her gently on her stomach.

"Having fun?" asked Sara from the doorway. She smiled sleepily at her husband before yawning loudly.

Greg looked up and smiled at her. He picked up Freya and crossed over to Sara. "Hey," he said, kissing her gently on the lips. "I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Don't worry, you didn't," said Sara with another yawn. "I woke up a few minutes before you came in."

Greg nodded in understanding before lying down on the couch with Freya stretched out over his stomach. Shadow came over and snuffled at Freya, who gurgled at him and reached out to hit him on the nose. Shadow whined loudly and curled up on Greg's feet, eyeing Freya disdainfully.

"Oh, look," laughed Sara. "Someone's jealous."

Greg laughed out loud before reaching down and petting Shadow's head. "Don't worry, boy, you're still my favorite pooch, I promise." He leaned back against the arm of the couch and sighed contentedly.

"Long day?" asked Sara as she settled into the armchair across the room.

"Not case-wise," replied Greg, closing his eyes and rubbing them tiredly. "Ecklie denied my request to only work three nights a week."

"What!" exclaimed Sara, almost jumping out of her seat in indignation. "Why the hell would he do that?"

"Because he hates me," said Greg calmly. "Don't worry, Grissom fixed it. He got the director involved, and I'm fairly certain Ecklie's now up for a demotion."

"Good for Grissom," said Sara, relieved. "If you hadn't been able to work only three days, I would've stormed in there and jacked Ecklie in the face."

"Somehow, I don't doubt that," replied Greg, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "However, I wouldn't recommend it. And hopefully with Ecklie out of the way, my request will be approved."

"I'm sure it will," reassured Sara, grabbing Greg's hand and squeezing it. "If not, the director's gonna get it, too."

He smiled wordlessly at her and squeezed her hand back. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, until Greg said quietly, "You know what I'll miss? When I'm gone?"

"What?" whispered Sara, looking at him sadly.

"Just sitting here, like this. Just being here, together. I'll miss that. And I have such little time left to enjoy it."

"I know," whispered Sara, barely able to speak through the tears clogging her voice. "Believe me, I know."

"Sara, I don't want to die," whispered Greg, eyes big and full of fear. "I don't want to leave you and our girls. I don't want to…but I don't have a choice, do I?"

"No," said Sara quietly, tears beginning to slip down her cheek. "You don't. I wish to God you did, but you don't. The only choice now is what to do with the time you have left."

Greg smiled crookedly at her. "Say that again, would you?"

She frowned, confused, but repeated, "The only choice now is what to do with the time you have left."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he said, still smiling slightly. "Dr. Martinez said the same thing. And it's true. And I think I know what I'm going to do."

"What're you going to do?" asked Sara, raising an eyebrow at him.

He smiled gently at her. "Don't worry about it," he whispered, sitting up and picking Freya up. "C'mon, let's go to bed, alright?" He offered Sara a hand to help her up, which she took, entwining her fingers with his.

"Ok," she whispered as they headed up the stairs. "Ok."