Thanks for the reviews, and thanks to Kegel for the Beta!

Chapter 19: As Time Begins To Turn

Grissom had pulled a few strings. No, more than a few strings. Ecklie had been none too happy about this latest incident. The domestic abuse charges against Greg had been dropped, but that still hadn't satisfied Ecklie. She had waited, quietly, while Grissom spoke with the man. Sara herself wasn't sure how Grissom had managed to convince the man to not fire her…again. If he had then that would have been a new world record. She laughed bitterly at the ironic thought, shaking her head.

Of course nothing came without a price, and shortly after Grissom reemerged from Ecklie's office, he had sent her off on another case. Sara had argued, had wanted to argue, even for the sake of arguing. Everything was starting to take a toll on her, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could keep everything at bay. She remembered the promise she had made to Greg, and had wanted to talk with him, to make him understand.

Make him understand because he didn't, and that only made matters worse. What she had said, she hadn't meant in the way the words had left her mouth. She wasn't afraid of him…but rather of what may happen between them. The feelings were unmistakable. They had drawn closer, had gone from general associates to close friends, and even then the feelings only continued to grow.

There were many things that Sara was good at in life. She had a quick memory, and caught the details others seemed to miss. Yet the one thing she failed at was with relationships. Every one that she had previously held…had ended poorly.

She could see it in her mind, the way he spoke, the way he acted about her…Greg was entranced by her. He always had been, but before it had been in jest.

But the time they had spent out in the desert after the incident, knowing everything the man had done for her had started to change things. Slowly her feelings had changed; she had started to see him as a different person, a person she had liked. It had been her fault they had even gotten into that mess and now…now she had gotten them into another one.

All of it made sense in her mind, but she couldn't formulate the words to say what she meant. She would have to try, she knew, would have to convince Greg to hear her out. Convince him to listen. Long enough to understand. Then…then he could leave.

There was no doubt in her mind that he would want to stay. But he deserved to hear the truth, deserved to hear it from her and there wasn't anything that could convince her otherwise. Thinking it, and actually doing it…they were not the same thing.

Sara glanced at the time as she pulled up in front of the building, glad to finally be back. Eight hours at the scene…now if only she could go home. A small smile crossed her face as she put the vehicle in park, turning off the engine. Only if…she couldn't even remember what it felt like to work only eight hours a day. She was a teenager back then, and eight hours seemed entirely too long. If someone had told her then and there she'd be pulling double that in a single night…she may have very well sat down and started crying then and there.

Now it didn't seem so bad; of course there were always times like this, times when she desperately wanted to go, to leave and not come back for a good length of time. Everyone felt like that, she presumed, grabbing her case as she moved for the door.

She still got the looks; that much didn't surprise her. Sara knew the looks and the whispered words would last for a while. Part of her had gotten used to being the hearsay of the lab, and she had learned to tune it out. Not everyone agreed with her sense of interrogation, or her compassion for the victims. That alone had been the talk in the recent years. So now it was no surprise that the latest course of events only fueled everyone's need to gossip about her any further.

It wouldn't last forever, she knew, and the thought stayed with her as she set her case down on the table, moving to log in the evidence. It was a simple, straightforward case, a B&E, and Sara had wanted to finish it sooner rather than later. She would need to call Greg, maybe meet him at his place…she couldn't bear to face him at her apartment again, not after what happened the last time.

She let her mind drift in and out of the thoughts, her concentration focusing on the evidence at hand, marking them down, and sorting them. She knew her job, knew how to do it without even thinking. It was part of who she was, that alone would never change. And Greg…

Sara let out a sigh as she straightened up, tucking her hair back into a tail. Greg had always been her friend, had always been supportive. He had even been willing to sacrifice himself in recent times, and would rather keep his mouth shut and take blame that was not rightfully his in order to save her own dignity. Sometimes she wanted him to stand up, to fight back, instead of always giving in.

She finished the last of her evidence with a sigh, packing everything away. They would need to process the evidence in due time, but for now she was done, and she couldn't be more thankful. Hastily she pulled her gloves off, logging them as protocol required, before leaving the room.

Her plan had been to grab her stuff from the locker room, and head out before anyone else could stop her. The backlog in the lab had created long shifts, and she didn't want to be caught in yet another double. Greg would be out as well by now, and more than anything Sara wanted to secure that time for the both of them. Who knew when they would get another chance?

She stopped though as she passed by the layout room, her expression changing as she watched Nick. He hadn't noticed her there, or at least hadn't acknowledged her presence if he did. Slowly she took another step in, her eyes roaming over the clothes that were spread on the table as the man worked over them meticulously. At first she would have ignored it, for the clothes could have come from anywhere, but the jacket…she had seen the jacket, had even joked about it with him.

"Are those…Greg's?"

Nick nodded, a grim expression crossing his face as he met her gaze. "Didn't hear you come in, how was the scene?"

"Fine," she replied tersely. She didn't want to talk about that, her mind instead focused on what was in front of her as she entered the room. "Did we develop some sort of fetish, or is there a good reason you are digging through his things?"

"Some guy attacked Greg earlier when he was leaving," Nick commented, changing his tone at the alarm in her eyes, "he's okay. But the guy gave us the slip. I'm seeing if I can pull any trace off of his clothes."

"You get a description of the guy?"

"Between what Greg saw, and the cameras outside, we got a good enough one. Sketch artist has already finished the drawing; Brass is getting ready to post it outside the department. Grissom won't let Greg leave until we have an idea of what's going on. He's sleeping, pretty much crashed on Grissom's couch. Poor guy has had more trouble than he's deserved lately."

The Texan let out a sigh, his fingers slipping through the small hole in the sleeve of the dark material. "It was close."

"Greg always said it was his lucky jacket," Sara mentioned quietly, watching him, her eyes drifting to the table to see the rest of the clothes. She came to a pause as they landed on the paper, her fingers reaching out to pull it to one side. "Is this…is this the guy?"

Nick nodded, but said nothing else as he turned Greg's jacket over. Sara glanced back down at the paper, her heart skipping a beat inside her chest. It couldn't be…

But she had seen those eyes, would know them anywhere, she just didn't want to believe it. How would he have known, how could he have? She glanced up quickly as Nick called her name, the Texan watching her closely.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she squeaked, clearing her throat. "I'm good…I have to…there's something I have to do, I have to go."

She didn't wait a moment longer, not caring what the man thought, her mind preoccupied with one and only one thing at the current moment. Everything had gone on for too long, had gone too far, and now, had come to this. She had started this entire mess…now she would be the one to fix it.

He had no recollection of sleep; no dreams, no waking moments…simply remembered closing his eyes, almost as though he had blinked. But time had gone by, he had slept, the grogginess clung to him as he worked his eyes open, his gaze darting about the unfamiliar room. He couldn't remember how he got here, or where here even was. His body hurt, not terribly, but instead a timid ache, settling in his bones, quiet reminders to keep still, and move slowly.

Slowly memory returned, and the instances of what happened earlier. The drunken man…the gunshot…Nick collecting trace evidence. Another suspect, another crime scene. Greg let out a quiet moan as he closed his eyes again. When would it ever stop?

"You realize you snore in uneven patterns?"

Greg snorted quietly, shaking his head. "How long have you been watching me sleep?"

"Long enough to know you need some snore relief products," Grissom replied, "It's very distracting."

"Doesn't keep me awake," Greg defended himself, sitting up carefully. The last thing he needed was harassment this shortly after waking.

"How are you feeling?"

Greg winced as he flexed his arm outward, bringing it back a moment later to run his other hand over the bandage. "Like I got the crap beat out of me."

"You know, Henry Joe's down the street offers classes in self-defense, you might want to look into it," Grissom replied, glancing up from his desk. The man looked exhausted, as though he should have been the one to sleep. Greg couldn't blame him, it seemed as if everyone around the lab had been getting by on very little sleep.

"I can take care of myself," he replied quietly, "I just wasn't expecting some drunk lunatic to body slam me and try and dice me up, that's all."

"He was drinking?"

Greg nodded, "Heavy, something strong."

"Nick's running the case," Grissom indicated to his left, without even looking up. "Make sure to tell him."

"Yeah," he voiced quietly, moving to his feet. Another case… "No chance of me going home, huh?"

Grissom only smiled sympathetically at him, and Greg nodded quietly, shrugging his shoulders. It was expected; something that good could not be true. "Guess I'll go see if anything new came in…did I miss anything on the Harren Case?"

"Samples Mia ran came back as an unknown male, still waiting for tox results. Catherine ran back out to the scene earlier. Cold case as of now; talk to Nick, he might have something."

"So I'll go find Nick," he voiced sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Grissom could be helpful, but only at times he perceived that help was needed. Other than that it seemed the man left it up in the air for others to figure out. Greg waited for a moment longer, but it was clear that the man was not going to respond any further, prompting him to leave.

Even as he walked into the hallway, the aroma assaulted his nose, his stomach growling in protest. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten, and now he was starving. Mexican…enchiladas, he knew that smell anywhere. Dimly he wondered what the chances were of Grissom letting him leave to go grab some of his own. Not likely…Greg scoffed quietly, entering the break room.

Nick was seated at the table, shoveling the food in his mouth, giving a short wave in between bites. Greg only shook his head, moving for the fridge that sat in there. If he was lucky he would be able to find something someone had abandoned, or maybe one of his older lunches from the previous days.

"I got some for you over here," Nick called, only moments before he had pulled the door open. The man was motioning to the table where another container sat, and Greg let out a short sigh of relief.

"I owe you one, I'm starving."

"No big deal," Nick shrugged as he snatched up the container. "I figured since you couldn't leave the lab you might want something to eat, so I picked it up when I took my break."

Greg nodded, taking a seat next to him. It wasn't the order he normally had, but at the moment he could care less, savoring in the warm flavor as he took a few careful bites, the heat forcing him to eat slowly. He watched Nick continue to devour his own, wondering if the man even had taste buds left, or if they had all been burned off by now. Slowly he smiled, clearing his throat.

"Thanks, by the way."

"No problem," the man nodded, "Like I said, I was already on my break…"

"For saving my life," Greg corrected him, "not breakfast."

Nick laughed, "Well in that case you owe me seven dollars and thirty four cents."

"For saving my life?"

"For breakfast."

"Right," Greg shook his head, "I thought it was no big deal."

"Not," Nick agreed, "but if word gets out that I'm doing favors I'm going to end up going broke."

The man was surprising at times, but Greg only held up his hands. "Nothing on me, remember, you took all my clothes."

"Picked up some trace, just in case you were wondering."

The conversation change was swift, but it was something Greg was used to, and he nodded, his mind switching back into work mode. "He was definitely drunk, I think that's the only reason I'm still here."

"And you didn't recognize him at all?"

Greg thought for a moment, but shook his head. "Is he from a case?"

"You said he knew you."

"He knew my name," Greg corrected him. "That's not the same as knowing who I am. He said…something about a friend. Said that I could help him. Then he attacked."

"Help with what?" Nick wondered, but Greg only shook his head.

"He was drunk, who knows if what he was saying was even true?"

Nick nodded, finishing up what was left of his meal, and tossed the container in the garbage. "Well, we'll start with the trace, and then run over some of your old case files, and see if there's anything in them that would tie to this guy. He has to have a link somewhere."

TBC