Thanks goes out to Kegel for giving this a once over, and to Jenny for her help in this as well. The reviews are wonderful motivation btw, keep them up :D

Chapter Nine: Rationalizations

He wasn't sure what else to do, other than stare at the information he held in his hands. Some time had passed before he found himself reeling, and Greg stumbled back until he found the empty chair, taking the seat quickly. He couldn't really be dead…Greg shook his head, mustering a soft laugh as he flipped it open. Of course he he?

The picture inside said differently, his cold lifeless face staring back up at him. Swallowing quickly he looked away, taking a moment to regain himself. He couldn't lose himself now, he couldn't let himself fall apart, not after everything he had gone through. He tried convincing himself that it still was all one big tasteless joke, but somehow it didn't work. With a final breath he forced himself to look down again, fingering the pages lightly as he began to read.

"Male Caucasian, late 20s, visible gunshot trauma to the abdomen, two.

Bullet wounds were not significant to cause of death, signs of hemorrhaging

Bullet number one lacerated left lower intestinal wall, bullet number two lacerated spleen

Official cause of deathexsanguination due to impact two"

Greg shook his head as he began flipping through the pages, glancing over the detailed drawings, the tox scans, and autopsy photos before he turned away in disgust. He had no answers, no excuses. There was no possible way anyone could have devised this up, and Robbin's signature on the bottom proved that it was no joke. But if he were really dead…then what was he doing here?

The door opened then, halting any further thought. It took a moment but Greg was soon moving to his feet, a feeble attempt to put the folder away before anyone saw it. The last thing he needed to do was give anyone a reason to lock him away. Even with sure proof in his hand Greg had never felt so close to being crazy in his life, and it was scaring him.

"Greg?"

He barely looked over his shoulder as Robbins hobbled in, for a moment transfixed with the situation at hand. Then he was moving, as if he couldn't get out of there fast enough. He wasn't as agile as he had hoped to be. In the process of trying to get the folder back into the cabinet, he dropped it on the floor.

The pages scattered amongst the other reports he had dropped earlier. Greg was already on his hands and knees picking them up by the time Robbins reached him. The older man watched him with a growing fascination, Greg giving out his quiet apologies.

"I needed a file for Catherine," Greg explained quietly, trying to keep his voice steady. His fingers clutched the folders tightly as he stood up, turning back to the cabinet, avoiding all possible eye contact with the doctor. Behind he heard Robbins chuckle quietly.

"I was wondering when you'd get around to finding that," he commented quietly.

Greg frowned, even as he slipped the folder back into its spot. His fingers still lingered on the top as he turned around. "Sanchez's folder?"

But how would he know that he was collecting unless Catherine had informed him? She was supposedly in an interview, so the possibility of that was slim. Of course she could have told him earlier, but then what reason would she have in sending him down to retrieve it?

It wasn't until Robbins gave him a small smile that Greg realized that wasn't what he was talking about. His attention turned back to the folder his fingers were grazing over. It couldn't be…

"You know about this?"

He was almost afraid to ask. But there had to be some hope, maybe this ever growing nightmare would finally be over. If it was a joke, even though almost all possibility had been dashed, Robbins would be the first to tire of it all. Somehow Greg knew that it wasn't, and he watched with a grim expression as the doctor sat down in a chair not too far from where he stood.

"I should hope so," he replied, "I'm the one who posted your body, and I also performed the autopsy. Top priority case, as is any case where one of our own are killed."

Greg shook his head, finding a chair to sit down in quickly. "So it is true…I really am dead," he mouthed quietly. Then he shook his head, "Wait…I can't both be alive and dead at the same time."

He glanced back up to the doctor who was resting easily, watching the young CSI. "There's no possible way it can be true."

"How else would you explain everything then?" Robbins wondered, indicating to his folder. "Nothing makes sense now, and you know that."

"But you're perfectly comfortable with the fact that you supposedly cut me apart, and removed who knows how many needed organs from my insides, and that you're currently talking to me right now."

"I talk to dead people all the time Greg, why would it all of the sudden make a difference now?" Robbins asked him honestly.

"True," Greg nodded, having to give him that factor, "But do they normally answer you back?"

"Normally?" he wondered, then shook his head, "Not usually."

"Not usually?" Greg frowned, it hadn't been the answer he was expecting. Was this then a common occurrence?

"You would be the first actually," Robbins admitted.

"Well then," Greg cleared his throat, not sure on how he was supposed to feel about that comment. "Since both of us know that I can't be alive and dead at the same time, then where does that leave me?"

He could see the older man thinking it over in his head before nodding. "I'd like to look at it as a second chance in life. Not very many people get one I would presume. I wouldn't take it as any light feat."

"And what if I don't like this life?" Greg raised an eyebrow in question.

"Unfortunately you don't get that choice," the doctor voiced. "You'll have to make do with what you have."

With a sigh Greg tapped the file folder on his knee a few brisk times, an idea slowly coming to him. "I'll show everyone the reports," he said suddenly. "If you can remember what happened then the others…"

"It won't work Greg," Robbins cut in. "I've already tried. All they see is a nameless face, nothing more. Somewhere the thread of time split, and it's like your death never happened."

"And how would it create an alternate past?" Greg wondered out loud. "Or do you not see the difference there?"

"I'd like to see it as a possibility to what could have happened," Robbins stated quietly.

Greg merely frowned, leaning back in his chair as he crossed his arms in front of his chest. "How so?"

"We all have opportunities in our lives," the doctor started out, gauging the young CSI's reaction. "Sometimes we take chances, but a lot of us let them pass by. We're afraid of change, and we're afraid of what might come if we upset the balance in our routine lives."

"Warrick and Catherine…Sara and Grissom…" Greg voiced casually.

Robbins nodded, "They both took that opportunity, instead of letting it pass by. If they had problems, they worked through them. They didn't let the fear and worry get in their way. But it's just not about taking chances, or making choices. Sometimes it's about what choices others make. Grissom gave the promotion to Nick, who eventually moved up after Ecklie left the lab. Sara became supervisor after Grissom's death. Instead of delving into DNA as you had before, you expanded your abilities. You started off out in the field right away."

"Then Sara and I hooked up," he muttered quietly. "I should enjoy it…I mean it's what I wanted…or at least what I thought I wanted. But she's changed, everyone's changed…"

"That's what is feared the most," Robbins nodded, "Whatever choices we make we have to deal with the consequences. And sometimes you can't repair things once they are done. We fear change, we fear judgment. Our social stature as humans is important to us. We are afraid to lose what little we do know."

"You seem satisfied with this answer," Greg commented. "How is it that you can remember all of this, but no one else?"

"I've often asked myself the same," Robbins answered. "The timeline started with your death, since I had the last connection to that…to you…that may very well be the reason."

"You aren't concerned though?" Greg wondered, "You're not worried…upset…afraid, that everything has changed, that the impossible has actually happened? That doesn't bother you at all?"

"What exactly do you propose that I do?" Robbins asked in return. When Greg remained silent he continued. "I do only what I can do, I go along with the flow of time. I don't try to change, I just accept it. It may be well time for you to do the same."

"It could still be a dream," Greg argued, not ready to give up just yet.

"It would be quite an elaborate dream." the other man responded. "It's been days now…soon it'll be weeks…months. Are you always going to claim that it's only a dream?"

"Sometimes the subconscious mind can convince you otherwise," Greg pointed out. "A few hours can seem like days…"

"Seem like," Robbins agreed. "But are they ever?"

"I never asked for this," Greg reminded him.

"We never ask for a lot of things," the doctor voiced sadly. "And yet they happen every day. You can't choose what happens in life, but you can choose how to react to it. Either you can fade away and remain in denial. Or you can accept the change and learn to live with it. What is it going to be?"

TBC