A/N: Since this is part of a series, I feel I should explain my interpretation of Greg's family. Just for clarity: working with the very, very small amount of information we're given in the show and books about Greg's family background, I needed to take some liberties. It's also possible I missed something. It's been a while since my last rewatch. In this story, Papa Olaf was Greg's maternal grandfather, so his full name was Olaf Hojem. His Nana (who he talked to in 15x3) is Olaf's widow. She kept her married name and her first name is Margit. I know Greg said at one point on the show that his grandparents were ejected from Norway for conceiving his mother out of wedlock. Well, that was like a hundred years ago and I'm assuming they were allowed back in at some point.

I rushed through the bit about other family members, so I don't think any additional explanation is needed for this chapter.

Chapter Five: Oslo, Hojems, and Confessions (Oh, My)

The flight to Norway lasted fourteen hours with two short layovers. Greg and Sara departed McCarran at nine a.m. and arrived in Oslo at eight a.m. the next morning with a nine-hour time difference between the two time zones. Their limited activities during the flights were divided between reading, watching movies on Sara's tablet, and lots of naps. The time adjustment would be difficult enough without adding insufficient sleep into the mix.

They picked up their rental vehicle, a four-wheel drive Suzuki, and drove to the Hojem residence. His mother had offered to pick them up but Greg declined. He didn't want to rely on them for transportation. What if he and Sara needed to escape for a while? Besides, they would need a car to get to the rest of the destinations on their itinerary…this would only add a few days onto the rental fee.

After Greg parked in the driveway behind another vehicle, he unbuckled but did not move to exit. He took several deep breaths. Sara leaned forward and whistled, eying the exterior of the large, multilevel home. It was built into a hillside overlooking a fjord and had large windows through which to enjoy the view.

"You okay?" she asked with a casual glance in his direction. Although she was nervous, Greg seemed more so.

He nodded and then peered out the windshield towards the house. "It was a fun place to stay as a kid. I remember wishing I lived here instead of with my parents. Papa Olaf and Nana Margit spoiled me rotten though, so that's no surprise."

She laughed. "That's a grandparent's job, to spoil their grandkids. How often were you here?"

"Early childhood into pre-teens, about half the year. Highschool, part of the summer. College up to now, every couple of years at the most," he finished with some remorse.

"How did you go to school?"

"Split semesters between Norway and California."

"Must have been hard to make friends."

"Are you kidding me? I was a science nerd with headgear and a palate expander. Add in the prolonged absences…The kids were trampling each other to sit with me at lunch."

Sara laughed again, which made Greg smile. With Sara's silent support as well as the added pressure from his mother peering out one of the front windows, he finally opened the car door.

They were greeted at the door before they could even knock and quickly ushered into the large entryway.

"Mom, Dad, you remember Sara Sidle. Sara, my parents: Ivan and Elise Sanders."

"Of course, Sara." Greg's mother greeted her with a tight hug. "I remember you, my dear."

Taken aback by the display of affection, Sara stiffly returned the embrace. She met Greg's eyes over his mother's shoulder and raised her eyebrows. He mimicked her expression, shrugged, then smiled tightly when he accepted his father's offered hand.

Elise was a petite woman, five-foot-three at the most, but her dark hair and deep brown eyes matched her sons exactly. Greg's height and features however, he clearly inherited from his father. Despite Ivan's silver-blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, Sara could have easily mistaken the two from the corner of her eye.

"I hope you're hungry. I've prepared all sorts of Norwegian dishes, and a few are even vegetarian!" Elise gushed. "Tonight will just be us five, but tomorrow we will be joined by more of the family."

"Where's Nana?" Greg asked, looking around.

"Taking a nap," his father replied.

"It's not even nine!"

"You know your grandmother rises with the birds. She's already been awake for four hours."

Greg narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "How is Nana?"

"Don't fret—my mother is strong," Elise reminded her son, nudging him lightly on the arm. "Now, follow me. Let's give Sara a tour, then sit in the family room and catch up over coffee."

The house was beautiful. Despite the dark exterior finished with a charred Kebony wood, the interior rooms were brightly colored and brilliantly lit. The atmosphere was both open and cozy, and it was easy to become comfortable there.

She had been worried about meeting his parents again, but Sara was relieved to find them easy to talk to and quickly became comfortable in their presence. Just before lunch, Greg excused himself to wake his grandmother.

"Nana," he whispered from the doorway, rolling his eyes when he heard her snoring. "Nana!"

She stirred. "Greg? Is that you?"

"Hi."

"Is it time for lunch?" she asked, sitting up slowly.

"No, Nana. It's the middle of the night and you're keeping everyone awake with your snoring."

She stared at him for a moment before laughing. "Oh, hush! Give me a moment to dress and I'll be right out."

That night at dinner, Sara had already filled her stomach, but there were three courses yet to come. She looked to Greg, who hadn't slowed down since the appetizers were placed in front of them. She had forgotten how much he could eat when he had time to eat.

Elise had been proudly reciting her sons' accomplishments, both educational and career. Greg supposed he was lucky that his childhood photo albums hadn't been pulled from the bookshelf yet.

"I tell Greg whenever I call that I wish he would return to his job in the laboratory. What was all of the education for if he's not going to use it? I'm sure it paid better, and it is so much safer."

"Not that much safer," Greg muttered under his breath, earning a stern glare from his father.

"Even so," Sara cleared her throat, smiling at Elise, "Greg does amazing work as a CSI. I think his chemistry education and his lab experience helps a ton in the field. I don't know what we'd do without him."

Greg smiled, blushed slightly, and used his fork to pick at his food.

"Gregory, ikke lek med maten din!"

"Du flau meg, mom!"

Sara laughed; no translation was needed. Greg glared at her, now blushing furiously, and she stuck out her tongue.

Shortly after dessert, the couple excused themselves to get some rest. Elise and Margit made sure they ate everything on their plates, and they were stuffed and tired. All the socializing and activity left them physically and mentally exhausted. Eager for some time alone after the long stretch of crowds and travel, they changed into pajamas, turned out the lights, and crawled under the covers of the guest bed.

"Can I ask you a question?" Sara asked eventually as she watched him stare at the ceiling.

He rolled to face her and lightly stroked her cheek with his thumb. "Anything."

"Tell me about your dad."

"That is not a question," Greg pointed out with a quirky smile. Sara rolled her eyes. His gaze drifted over her shoulder and he sighed. "My father was a Marine and after that, a professional soccer player. He had an extremely successful career until he broke his leg and was forced to retire at thirty-eight. He still coaches, but my parents don't need the money. He's a respectable man and he's always treated mom like a queen."

Sara nodded and waited for him to continue.

"My mom, an entrepreneur, owns small chains of gift shops here and in California. All she ever wanted was a big family. I was her first and only child."

"Why?"

"I made things complicated during labor and she needed a c-section. She had a clotting issue and came close to bleeding out during the surgery. They had to make the split-second decision to allow the doctors to perform a hysterectomy. I know she had to be wrecked, but you never would have known it. She smothered me with enough love and concern for ten children. Barely let me out of her sight. I'm all she was allowed to have, Sara. If something happened to me…"

She gripped his hand tightly. She knew too well the fear of losing him.

"My dad wanted a son to carry on his sports legacy. He ended up getting his son, but there was no way Mom would let me play soccer. He even tried to sign me up for the Marines, and that did not go over well."

"You think you disappointed him."

"No, that's too strong of a word. To disappoint somebody, they need to have some amount of confidence in you in the first place."

"Greg, there's no way your parents are disappointed in you. You say you 'made things complicated' and she had to get a cesarian? Do you really think you could control that? The bleeding?"

He sighed deeply. "No, of course not. I just can't help but think…"

"Seriously. Your mom literally glows when you're around. And your dad…I'm sure he loves you. Maybe you don't see it, but there's pride in his eyes when he looks at you. How could he not be proud?"

Greg scoffed.

"Lots of people struggle to express their feelings. He just doesn't know how to tell you."

"Yeah, maybe," he said dismissively.

Some time passed. Their foreheads touched slightly and she ran her fingertips along his chest, listening as their breaths synched. The calls of nocturnal insects were heard through the open window and a cool breeze blew upon them.

"I'm glad you brought me here. I really am," Sara whispered sleepily.

Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled her close. "Me too."

The next few days were spent exploring the picturesque city and meeting more of Greg's family. They were all friendly and welcoming of Sara. The time difference tended to work to their advantage, since the time they would normally sleep was night in Norway.

Besides being in a different country, meeting new people, and seeing new places, things felt normal. Greg didn't have any hallucinations, only fleeting nightmares that dissipated as soon as his mind cleared itself of sleep. He had occasional arguments with his father, but this too was nothing out of the ordinary.

Greg's grandmother asked him quite regularly if he was okay. She asked so often that he wondered if her memory was beginning to fail her. It was either her memory or she really was psychic; either way, she seemed healthy otherwise and he felt fine so he wished she would stop worrying.

On their last morning in Oslo, Sara, Elise, and Margit waited at the rental car while Greg and his father retrieved the rest of their luggage from the spare room. The women found suitable small talk to fill the first few minutes, but when raised voices could be heard echoing through the walls, the women glanced nervously at each other.

"Should we—?" Sara started, but Elise shook her head.

"It's impossible getting through to them when they're like this."

They listened but could make out no words, English or Norwegian, from the shouting match inside. The majority of the shouting was in his father's deeper tone, and it was clear to Sara that Greg was not the primary aggressor.

"If you ask me, one seems a bit more impossible than the other," mumbled Sara. Margit chuckled knowingly.

Elise smiled. "I understand how it looks and sounds. But it was our parenting that made Greg the man he is today. And you seem to be quite fond of him."

Sara couldn't argue with that.

The front door suddenly swung open and Greg exited. He took the short flight of steps from the porch to the ground three at a time, and she was again amazed at the thought that a year ago he'd been bedridden with three nearly useless appendages.

His scowl turned to a smile when he took in the women waiting near the car. He bounded up to Sara and kissed her cheek.

"Ready?"

She nodded.

He turned to Elise. "Mom."

"Vennen min," she whispered, tears in her eyes as she opened her arms to him.

"Don't cry," he said quickly, wrapping her in a big hug. "We'll see each other again soon."

Sara smiled, appreciating the chance to watch Greg interact with his mother.

Elise finally withdrew from Greg's arms to plant herself in Sara's. "Take care of him, my dear," she whispered in her ear.

Sara nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

Meanwhile, Margit took Greg by his arm and pulled him a few feet away. "Are you certain you're okay?"

"Yes, Nana."

"You're different."

"I'm older."

"Stop. There's something else."

"I'm alright, Nana," Greg said patiently. He kissed her cheek. "I love you."

"And I love you. Keep Sara close and remember, all that matters is what is real. What's in front of us. What we can touch." She patted his chest. "Listen to your heart because sometimes, our heads fool us."

He studied her quizzically. "I thought it was the other way around."

She smiled mysteriously in return then hugged him tightly. In reality her words hit too close to home.

Driving away, Sara stared out the side window at the scenic town. In her periphery she noticed Greg glance over a few times.

"What?" she asked finally, turning and raising her eyebrows.

"Did she ask you to keep me in line?" he asked, smiling somewhat nervously.

"What do you mean?"

"You said, 'yes, ma'am.'"

"Oh, that? If you must know, she asked me to take care of you."

Greg leaned over quickly, kissing her cheek before returning his visual concentration to the road ahead. It was clear he was deep in thought.

"What did you and your dad fight about?"

"You mean the shouting? That was nothing. You should have heard us when I told him I wanted to become a chemist."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I." He shot a small grin her way. "It's not a big deal. He saw my wrists and said I should hide them around Mom."

Sara unconsciously looked to his wrists at the wheel, encircled by the faint pink scars that lingered from his ordeal the previous year. She barely noticed anymore; the marks were faded and it took effort to find them.

They were simply part of him now. Just like those left by the laboratory explosion all those years ago, and the gang beating in the alleyway, they didn't change how much she loved him or the way he treated her.

"That's ridiculous. Your mother knows what happened. She saw you in the hospital."

"He said it reminds and upsets her when she sees them."

"So you're only supposed to wear long sleeves around her? She was upset today to see you leave, not because of your wrists."

He reached over and laid his hand on her thigh, thanking her silently.

"Will you miss her?" Sara knew it was a silly question before it even left her lips, but he humored her with a response.

"Yes."

Sara squeezed his hand. "We'll visit when they're back in California. We could make it a day or weekend trip if you wanted."

"I'd like that."

They rode along in companionable silence then. The beauty of the landscape soon had them both excited for camping. Neither Greg nor Sara wanted to jinx it so they said nothing aloud, but perhaps a vacation truly had been what they both needed.

ikke lek med maten din – don't play with your food

Du gjør meg flau – you're embarrassing me

A/N pt. II: I'm posting this after so long because…many reasons. It needs to get out there, and as much as I hate this chapter I need to get it over with. After this (within the next 1-2 chapters), we get into the whumping (AKA the good stuff). I hate writing filler.

Sorry it's been so long. You can expect more regular chapters from now on, as I have much of this story (and the next) completed. I'm also starting to feel more "normal" after losing both my dog and my mother in the past 5 months. Fuck 2021. Fuck liver disease. Fuck covid.

Anyway. Thanks for your likes and comments! They definitely inspire me.