Well, this chapter ended up a lot longer than I expected. But I guess that's a good thing, right?
SandieBrody & Lil Badger 101 - Thanks for the reviews!
"Greg!"
That wasn't Nick's voice calling out to him that time. Greg immediately stopped to turn around and face Catherine Willows. He almost considered ignoring her in hopes she would leave him alone.
"What, Catherine?" he asked a little too harshly. The older woman seemed taken aback by his tone. "Sorry. Rough day. What do you need?"
"Oh, nothing," Catherine replied quickly. "I, uh… I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
"Why wouldn't I be?"
"You know why," Catherine said bluntly. "You shouldn't even be at work. They should've given you the rest of the week off."
"Catherine," Greg looked at her. "I came back because I wanted to. Besides, I was shot in the arm. I can still do my job. I'm fine."
"You shouldn't have come back to work so soon. You need to go home and get some rest."
"No offense, Cath," he glared at the older woman. "But you're not my mom. Don't tell me what I need to do!"
The blonde opened and closed her mouth as she tried to find a way to respond. Greg had never spoken to her like that before. She knew he wasn't inherently angry at her. His anger was more at himself and the fact people had suddenly begun treating him differently.
"I'm just worried about you," Catherine told him honestly. "We all are."
"You guys are still babying me," Greg said bitterly. Tears stung his eyes. "You all see me as that goofy kid who started out in the DNA lab. None of you think I can handle being a CSI."
"You're wrong," Catherine replied. Her tone was firm enough to make Greg realize he had struck a chord with her. "In all my years here, I have never seen someone work as hard as you have. No matter how much stuff we piled on you in the lab, you always did it. You rarely complained. When Grissom first told me about you wanting to become a CSI, I was as anxious as he was to see how you'd do in the field."
"You were?" Greg asked. His anger slowly faded into curiosity.
"We both want to see you succeed," Catherine smiled at him. "But we're afraid of you encountering the truly ugly side of this job. The side that puts the life of any CSI on the line. It's scared us all to know how close we came to losing you."
"Warrick didn't seem to care that much," Greg muttered. "All he did was yell at me once we were out of that basement."
"Trust me. Warrick does care. He was scared the other day, and he reacted in anger because of the situation. He was angry at himself for leaving you alone downstairs in that house. He was angry that the officers hadn't truly cleared the house. He was angry that you hadn't alerted him or the officers that you'd found something. But do you know what he was the angriest about?"
"The fact I screwed up?" Greg asked tearfully.
"No, Greg," Catherine shook her head. "He was angry at himself for not being able to protect you from what happened. You're like a little brother to him. You're like a little brother to Nicky too. Both of them do their best to look out for you. You got hurt while Warrick was at the scene, and he's blamed himself for it."
Greg didn't know how to respond to that. All he could remember was Warrick yelling at him while at the scene.
"We've all been in it long enough to know the dangers. It wasn't easy for us to watch you start going out in the field," Catherine reasoned. "For me, seeing you go out in the field for the first time was like watching Lindsey go off to her first day of Kindergarten. I knew she had to do it, but it was so hard to let go of her hand and let her do it on her own."
"Except in Kindergarten, there's no gun-wielding maniac waiting around the corner to shoot you," Greg commented darkly.
"Well…" Catherine paused. "In some cases, that's not true."
Greg cringed, remembering a school shooting that had occurred four months prior where three elementary students and a teacher had died. The shooter managed to escape but was found a few hours later. It was a case that he had remained in the lab for. He knew he wouldn't have been able to handle the sight at the scene.
"My point is," Catherine continued. "You're part of our family. It's always hard to not worry about any family member after they've gone through something like you did. When I heard that it was you who had gotten shot at the scene, I feared the worst. I didn't know any details until Grissom called me to say you'd be fine."
"How do you handle it, Cath?" Greg suddenly asked. He didn't know why he asked it.
"Handle what?"
"How do you handle all the things you see out in the field?" his voice was barely a whisper. He crossed his arms over his chest again to hide his shaking hands. "How do you not let everything get to you?"
"Well," Catherine wasn't sure how to answer that. "I leave it here. Once I walk out those doors to go home, I leave it all behind. I don't take it home with me. That's the key to all of it. Don't take it with you."
"What if it follows you?"
Catherine finally realized what Greg meant. It took her a few seconds to realize he was trembling all over. His gaze was lowered, unable to meet hers any longer. Catherine had to push aside her motherly instincts that were screaming for her to hug the young man in front of her.
"I don't know what to tell you," she told him honestly. There really was no good answer for that question. "Talking about it helps. You know you can talk to any of us or the department psychologist. And I'm really sorry to cut this short, but I have to meet up with Warrick. We've got a robbery turned homicide to look into. If you need to talk later, you can always come by my office or give me a call."
Greg nodded. "Thanks, Catherine."
"Anytime," she smiled and gave him a quick hug. "Hang in there, Greg."
He stood in the hallway for a moment. He really didn't want to go home. They were already short-staffed, and he still had a ton of paperwork to do. He could always take a quick nap in the break room and get back to work.
Greg wandered the hall with not particular destination in mind. Just as he passed the Trace lab, the door opened to reveal a rather surprised looking David Hodges. The two men seemingly lived to torment each other with jokes, sarcasm, and any other method one found useful in irritating the other. The lab tech regarded Greg curiously. For once, it looked like Hodges was at a loss for words.
"What's the matter, Hodges?" Greg questioned. "You don't have anything to say about me screwing up during an investigation? Surely you have a joke about it."
"You know, I think for once a joke isn't appropriate," Hodges said thoughtfully and smiled a little. "Although if it'd make you feel better, I can make one."
"I'm pretty sure there's nothing you can do that will make me feel better," Greg replied seriously.
"Didn't I warn you the day that shooting happened in the 'hood that you should start carrying a gun?" Hodges questioned. "Why won't you carry one?"
"Don't you remember what I told you then?"
"Yeah, but I was hoping maybe by now you would have realized I was right."
"Hodges, if you only stopped me to talk so you could grill me on carrying a gun, then I think this conversation is over."
Hodges' smile faded. "Actually, I wanted to tell you that what happened the other day did scare me. I heard someone mention a CSI had been shot, and then I heard your name…"
"Oh, so now that I could've been killed you want to be nice to me?"
"Well, G," Hodges used a nickname to let Greg know he was about to give him a sarcastic reply. "I think I've tried being nice to you before, but you're the one who likes to be the smartass."
"You usually start it," Greg replied, sounding like a kid teasing a classmate.
"And I usually finish it," Hodges couldn't stop himself from smiling.
"You know I'll always be their favorite lab tech, right?"
"There's only one problem with that," Hodges pointed out, smirking.
"Oh, yeah?"
"You're not a lab tech anymore," Hodges's smile broadened. "So, I guess that makes me their favorite now."
"You wish," Greg countered. "You're the most annoying tech this lab has had."
"Me? Annoying?" Hodges gasped, feigning offense. "Please. Everyone loves me."
"They love you about as much as dogs love fleas," Greg chuckled.
Hodges suddenly grinned broadly. He looked as though he had just found a clue that would crack a case wide open. Greg couldn't figure out why. For Hodges, the answer was simple. All day he had watched people treat Greg like a child. Most were offering their sympathies or telling him they were sorry. Hodges knew that what Greg really needed was for someone to act normally with him. So that's what he did in hopes it would make Greg realize things could still be relatively normal after what happened. It seemed to work as Greg finally smiled for the first time since returning to work. Hodges wanted to say something about it, but he figured some things were better left unsaid.
"Care to enlighten me on why you suddenly look so happy?" Greg tried to stifle another laugh.
"Oh, no reason," Hodges said with a shrug. "Well, I've got work to do."
A moment of awkward silence passed between them. Hodges turned to go back into his lab.
"Hodges?"
The lab tech turned back around. "Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"I don't believe it. Greg Sanders actually thanked me and seems to mean it?" Hodges acted as though he was surprised before getting serious. "Why are you thanking me?"
"You know why."
Hodges nodded. His plan had worked.
"I'm just glad you're all right," Hodges grinned. "Did you really think I'd cut you any slack? You know it's my life's goal to annoy you every chance I get, right?"
"I wouldn't have it any other way, H."
Greg laughed quietly as he turned and walked away. Hodges shook his head and went back to work. It was the first time in three days that anyone had treated Greg remotely the same as they had before what happened in Culverson's home. He headed to the locker room, changed clothes, and got ready to go home. Usually a conversation with Hodges left him slightly annoyed. Today, it was the only conversation that had actually made him smile.
He was just passing the receptionist desk when he saw his supervisor speaking with three people. He assumed it was the family of a victim from one of the cases. He remained just by the front desk and tried not to make it so obvious he was staring at them. The mother and father held onto each other's hands tightly as Grissom talked to them. The daughter had a hand on her mother's arm. There were tears in her eyes as she listened to Grissom speak.
Greg felt his stomach lurch when he recognized the young woman. It was Ashley Newton's older sister, Hannah. Greg remembered talking to her the day after Ashley had disappeared because she was the only relative who lived in Las Vegas. She suddenly noticed him standing there. Her gaze locked with his for a few seconds. Grissom turned around to look at Greg before looking back at the family. Grissom said something else to the family before turning to approach Greg. The CSI had a momentary urge to turn and run away as fast as he could.
"Ashley Newton's family," Grissom informed him even though he knew Greg had already figured out who they were. "They're here to get her body and take it home."
"Do they know?" Greg asked quietly.
"Know what?" Grissom questioned.
"That I…" Greg trailed off, unsure of what to say exactly. "Do they know that I was there when she died?"
"I told them you and Warrick were the two CSIs in the house," Grissom kept his voice low. "They asked if either of you saw what happened."
"And you told them I did?"
"No," Grissom answered. "All I've told them so far is that nobody knew Culverson was hiding in the basement until he fired that shot. Do you want them to know? I can leave that detail out. They know who was responsible for their daughter's death, and it wasn't you, Greg."
"But I was there," Greg pointed out, looking past Grissom to the family then back at Grissom. "I could've done something. They should know that."
"So, you want them to know you were in that basement and saw her die?"
"I just want them to know the truth."
"Maybe you should tell them then," Grissom suggested.
The thought of having to tell Ashley Newton's family the truth made Greg's stomach lurch violently. He shook his head at his supervisor's suggestion. He couldn't do it. There was no way he could face the girl's family. He felt his hands shake even more than they already were.
"I can't," Greg said shakily. "I can't tell them I'm the reason she died. I can't do it. Don't make me do it. Please don't make me."
"Greg," Grissom spoke calmly, placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Relax, all right? You don't have to tell them. I will, only if you're sure that's what you want."
Greg nodded. "They need to know."
"All right," Grissom started to turn back toward the family but turned back to Greg quickly. "Greg?"
"What?"
"You are not the reason that Ashley Newton died," Grissom said firmly before his expression softened. "Greg, I need you to be honest with me. Did Culverson say anything to you that would make you believe you're responsible?"
Subconsciously, Greg's right hand moved to cover his left bicep. Culverson's words ran through his mind again. 'The scar from that gunshot wound will be a perfect, permanent reminder of what a failure you were tonight.'
"No," Greg shook his head.
The look on Grissom's face told Greg that his supervisor knew he was possibly hiding something. Greg looked down at the floor. Grissom said nothing more before going back to the family. Greg kept his head low as he walked by them to leave.
He stepped outside and finally realized just how long he had been at the lab. It had been yesterday evening when he came in. He had spent nearly a full twenty-four hours in the lab. Greg looked toward the setting sun. Another day was coming to an end. Another day that he managed to survive. Greg took a step toward the parking lot when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was forcibly turned around to face an angry Mr. Newton.
"Why didn't you save her?" Mr. Newton grabbed the collar of Greg's shirt.
"Mr. Newton, I—"
Mr. Newton aimed a punch at Greg's midsection. It knocked the breath out of the young CSI. Greg tried to pull away from the angry father. Another punch hit him in the stomach. Greg couldn't stop himself from crying out in pain.
"You could have saved her!" Mr. Newton yelled angrily. His steel gray eyes narrowed. "Why didn't you?"
He let go of Greg's collar before swinging his fist one more time. It connected with the right side of Greg's face. Greg doubled over as yet another punch hit his midsection. He heard voices yelling and his attacker was pulled back. Greg dropped to his knees, hugging his arms around his midsection. Two officers had pulled Mr. Newton away as a frightened Mrs. Newton stood nearby with tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Let me go!" Mr. Newton yelled. He tried to get away from the officers.
"Mr. Newton," Grissom's voice cut in. "I'd advise you rethink going after CSI Sanders again. Do you really want to get into trouble for assaulting a member of the LVPD?"
"That bastard could have saved my daughter!" Mr. Newton glared at Greg. "He should be the one in the morgue. Not Ashley!"
Greg flinched at the man's words. He tried to get his breathing back under control and willed his entire body to stop shaking. Two officers escorted Mr. and Mrs. Newton back inside the building. Grissom started to approach Greg.
"I'll be okay, Grissom," Greg looked up at him. "Go make sure Mr. Newton doesn't get charged with assaulting me. He had a right to be angry."
"But he didn't have a right to attack you."
"He's a father who knows his daughter could've been saved," Greg raised a hand to rub his cheek. "I'd probably do the same if I was in his position."
"You're too nice for your own good, you know that?" Grissom approached him and helped him. "I didn't think he would go after you like that. I would've followed him out if I thought—"
"It's not your fault," Greg winced as he stood up. "I think I'm going to go home."
"Will you be okay to drive home? I can get Nick to take you."
"No, I'll be fine. Go make sure they aren't trying to arrest him."
"Okay," Grissom studied Greg for a few seconds. "Take tomorrow off, Greg."
"But—"
"You heard me," Grissom said sternly. "The only reason I want to see you in the lab tomorrow is if something big happens and we actually need you here."
"Fine," Greg muttered.
Grissom hurried back inside. Greg slowly walked toward his car. The few blows Mr. Newton had managed to land had definitely done some damage. Not enough damage to break anything, but enough that Greg knew he would be feeling it for a day or two. He made it to his car before he had to take a moment to catch his breath. He leaned down, hands on the hood of his car, and closed his eyes.
"Hey, you okay?" an unfamiliar voice asked. Greg slowly opened his eyes and looked to see a worried brunette by his side. Her hand rested on his shoulder. "I'm so sorry about my dad. He's so distraught over what happened to Ashley, and when Mr. Grissom mentioned you saw what happened, I guess dad felt like he needed someone to blame since he couldn't physically get ahold of the man who actually did kill my baby sister."
"He has a right to be angry," Greg straightened up to face her. "And if it counts for anything, I truly am sorry about Ashley, Hannah."
"You remembered my name," she said, seeming surprised.
"Of course I did," Greg replied. He struggled to keep his emotions at bay. "I haven't been able to forget your name ever since I promised I'd find your sister and bring her back. Only, I guess, I broke that promise."
"No, you didn't," Hannah said tearfully. "Mr. Sanders, you found my sister and you brought her back to us. You kept your promise."
"Call me Greg," his voice wavered. "I meant that I would find her and bring her back alive. I failed to do that."
"Greg," Hannah reached out to gently touch his cheek where her father had hit him. "You didn't fail. That man was connected to other kidnappings where the girls were never found. You brought my sister back to us and we have closure instead of wondering where my sister's body is."
Greg turned away from her. Something in her touch was comforting, yet at the same time it made him want to completely unravel. He had let her sister die, and she was the one trying to comfort him. The whole situation seemed a little backwards to him.
"You're not angry at me?"
"Why would I be angry?"
"Because I could've saved her!" Greg finally exploded. Hannah took a step back. "I watched her die, and there's a chance I could've done something to save her! I failed her! And your dad is right! I should be in the morgue! Your sister didn't deserve to die!"
Hannah had tears in her eyes once Greg finished. Greg's chest rose and fell painfully as he tried to calm himself down. He hated himself for losing it like that. Hannah didn't deserve it. He was both angry and embarrassed about his behavior. Greg turned away quickly to leave, stopping instantly when pain shot through his torso. He hissed in pain and clutched his side.
"Easy," Hannah's voice cut in. She immediately had an arm around him to steady him. "Do you think you should go to a hospital to make sure my dad didn't seriously hurt you?"
"No, I'm fine," Greg said through clenched teeth.
"I'm so sorry this happened," Hannah's voice was barely a whisper. "You had to watch my sister die. My dad beat the hell out of you. You shouldn't have to deal with any of this."
Before Greg could register what was happening, he wrapped his arms around Hannah and hugged her. Hannah buried her face in his chest and cried. Greg held onto her and started to cry along with her. The past few days had been emotionally draining as he tried not to lose it in front of anyone. Now, he was standing in the parking lot and crying with someone who was basically a stranger to him.
"Sorry," Hannah suddenly pulled away and frantically wiped away her tears. "I don't need to be adding to whatever you have going on."
"Don't worry about it," Greg smiled small, wiping his own tears away.
"Say, when's the last time you ate?"
"Not too long ago, but I didn't have much of an appetite then. Why?"
"I feel like I owe it to you to take you out to dinner. To thank you."
"Thank me?"
"You kept your promise, Greg," Hannah smiled through more tears that threatened to fall. "You brought my sister back. I know it didn't happen the way you wanted it to, but you promised you'd bring her back. And you did."
"You're serious?"
"Yeah," Hannah nodded. "Plus, I feel horrible about my dad attacking you like that."
"Maybe I should get beat up more often, then," Greg grinned. "If it means a pretty woman will want to have dinner with me."
Hannah snorted as she suppressed a laugh. "So, is that a yes?"
Greg shrugged. "But what about your parents?"
"I'll let mom handle dad," Hannah looked back toward the crime lab then back at Greg. "Besides, I drove here on my own. They have a rental car they drove. So, am I going to get a definite answer. Yes or no?"
"Yes," Greg smiled. "I'll go, but only under one condition."
"What's that?"
"I'm buying," he grinned as she frowned. "No, don't try to argue. Do you want to meet somewhere or ride together? You're welcome to ride with me."
"Well, I think," Hannah said thoughtfully. "That if you're buying, then I should drive. I mean, if you're okay with that. I know I'm just a stranger to you."
"I'll ride with you," Greg interrupted. "It's not like I'm in a hurry to go home anyway. You can drop me off back here to get my car later."
"Then let's go!" Hannah laughed.
She looped her arm through Greg's. He followed her to her car with a smile on his face. Something about Hannah Newton made him smile more than he had in a long time.