"Yeah... whatever!" -- I Am the Better Man: As told by Greg

Skell

Rookie
All right, this is my first time posting here... so I hope I'm doing this right! Please tell me if I'm not.

Title: I Am the Better Man
Author: Me.
Rating: Humor, Angst, and Romance PG-13 for mild swearing and drama
Summary: Greg's POV. Takes place during and after "You Kill Me," Episode 808. Deals with Greg's frustration on Sara's absence, and how his feelings on the matter go unnoticed and overridden by the gang's worry over Grissom, whom Greg refuses to comfort by trying to avoid. Greg blames Grissom for Sara leaving, and is trying to prove to himself - and everyone around him - that he is the better man. The gang finally notices Greg's true feelings after he gets injured at a crime scene. Greg believes he is finding comfort not from his fellow CSIs, but indirectly through a letter he receives while he's in the hospital. How will Greg treat the gang at work, and vice versa, after his physical, and emotional, injuries? How will he treat Grissom?
Warnings: This story is in first person: Greg's point of view. Also, this story is Sandle-ish, or as much as one can be with Sara gone.
Link: http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3913266/1/I_Am_the_Better_Man

Do enjoy! :D
 
Re: "Yeah... whatever!" -- I Am the Better Man: As told by G

Thanks for all who have glimpsed at it at fanfiction.net!
I understand some people do not want to click on links to view it, though, so I'll post it chapter by chapter here.

We'll take it a bit at a time. :3 This fic has twenty chapters. Do tell me what you think! :D

Disclaimer: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation is © Anthony E Zuiker/CBS. None of these characters belong to me. One instance in this chapter is from the series, episode “You Kill Me;” everything else is a play-off. Whatever happens besides is coincidental. Enjoy! :]

I Am the Better Man
Chapter 1

“Did you hear?”
“Hear what?”
“Sara left.”
I turned away from my locker for a second and looked at Nick, processing what he had just said and the look on his face as he looked up at me from the bench. I loosened up and gave a small chuckle, looking back inside my locker and taking off my jacket. Nick, Nick, Nick… always trying to tease me. Why must you torture me so?
“Haha, good one, Nick – “
“I’m serious, Greg.”
I looked at him again. The way he was talking was extremely serious and subdued; I could barely believe it was him. If I didn’t know he was there, I would have thought he was my boss or something. The smile on my face had disappeared. An uncomfortable silence seemed to have made itself comfortable in between Nick and I, stuck. Not sure how long it lasted, but I didn’t like its company.
“You’re not… you can’t be serious…” I closed my locker slowly, my gaze still on Nick. He pursed his lips, as he usually does when he’s sure of things, and started working on tying his shoes on the bench.
“Yeah, needed time away I heard… she was really stressed out. I can understand. After that case with Hannah and Marlon… it was hell the first time, but to see them again? It’s a wonder I’m still here, with everything you get out of this job.” Nick finished with his left foot, set it down on the floor and raised his right foot onto the bench, working on those laces now.
“She was stressed out…” I repeated those words to myself, more than a thousand times it seems in my head. I sat down slowly on the bench next to Nick, staring at the locker in front of me. I stared at the scratches on it, I could barely make out a butterfly… “Why didn’t she tell me?”
“She didn’t tell me,” Nick answered, making a content face at his shoes. I turned my head to face him, a little confused.
“Then who told you?”
“Catherine.” Catherine seems like the sort of person Sara would tell… but at the same time she doesn’t. I asked again to make sure:
“And who told her?”
“Grissom.”
Grissom. I paused, hoping in my head Warrick had told Grissom about Sara’s departure. Or even Hodges. Just not directly to Grissom… “Who told Grissom?”
“Sara wrote him a letter. Apparently it was…” I didn’t hear much after that. My heart plunged. Never felt so hard to swallow my own spit. Of course I knew about Sara’s relationship with Grissom – the whole lab knew! Doesn’t mean I was hunky-dory with it. I was kinda-sorta happy because I thought Sara was happy, and that’s all that mattered to me. That she was happy. But to find out that she had left because she was stressed, needed time away, that she wasn’t happy. That hurt… that hurt a lot. And what made it worse was that Grissom didn’t do anything to comfort her. With all the extra time together, you’d think Sara’s emotions would get through his thick head. If I were Grissom, I would have found a way to prevent her from leaving, prevent her from even thinking about leaving. If I were Grissom… I’d be better. For her.
But was I really the better man? I like to tell myself that. Yet with Sara’s choice… I can’t help but question it.
And then I heard Nick’s voice again, “… we should go comfort Grissom.”
“Huh?”
“You know… take him out to eat or something. He must be real hurt.”
“Hurt?” Was this person Nick I was talking to? The guy that knew I had feelings for Sara from the get-go? Who teased me for such feelings? But here he is, telling me we should comfort some other guy? Boy did my blood start to boil.
Unfortunately, I didn’t know how to leave casually without seeming like an ass, so I said, “... I think I hear the kettle calling. Blue Hawaiian… can’t waste that.”
“I don’t hear anything – “
“That’s because it’s calling to me and me only…”
“Yeah, see you around, Greg.” Fortunately, I don’t think he got it.

I got to the break room and decided a cup of coffee wouldn’t be such a bad idea. I pulled up a chair and slouched in it, leaning over my elbows on the table, playing with my fingers. Porn wasn’t of my best interest at the moment: I was trying to figure out why Sara didn’t tell me that she’d left…
As I pondered over my grief, Catherine came into the room.
“Hey Greg.”
“Hey Catherine. What’s up?”
“Ah… long day.”
“Sure is…” I sighed, inconspicuously I hoped; I didn’t really want to talk to anyone at the moment. She didn’t respond, so I thought she’d leave soon, but I guess I shouldn’t assume. She sat in the chair next to me. I could feel her eyes on my face averting hers. I realized how odd I looked just sitting there, hunched over in my chair over… nothing. Or, nothing she could see, which is why I guess she started to talk again, “You all right?”
“Yeah! Yeah. I’m all right.” Even that much was a lie.
“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve heard, but…” she trailed off, looking around through the windowed-walls of the room. Wonder who she was looking out for? I perked up a little, hoping for some lab gossip, or a hot case.
“Buuuuut…?”
“But Sara’s gone, and – “
“Oh, yeah…” I slouched again. I should have known, “horrible, isn’t it?” I looked at Catherine in the eyes, then down to my hands on the table, “The lab just doesn’t feel the same.”
“It really doesn’t.” she stood up at the sound of a bell, indicating the coffee was ready. I grinned, maybe someone was actually going to comfort me! ME! And of all people, Catherine! Who would have thought?
She brought a mug of the lovely, aromatic, Blue Hawaiian goodness to the table. Oh Catherine, you shouldn’t have, you brought the coffee to me!
And then she killed me, “Someone needs to talk to Grissom. Calm him down a bit.”
Dammit! Why? Why Catherine, why? I thought you had something for a second.
“What’s wrong with him?” I answered, irritably. She gave me a baffled look, and I returned it. Maybe she’d restate her statement.
“Are you sure there’s nothing wrong with you?” Of course there’s something wrong with me. My heart aches! How can you not tell?
“I’m… a bit upset is all.”
“Oh, Greg… we’re all upset.” What’s this? A little acknowledgement? Oh, do go on! “But don’t worry… we’ll make it through. It’s just Grissom needs the most help now, I think.”
“Why?” I snapped. I should feel bad… but I don’t.
“Where have you been? He’s suffering from heartache.”
Oh, my heart! How you ache! What? What’s that? Suffering for more than a year, and you’re still not recognized? Poor you. Life isn’t fair.
“Oh, there he is!” and with a sip of MY coffee, Catherine scurried away. I looked down at the mug. At least I almost thought it was for me.
But I don’t get it; I honestly don’t get it. For people who solve crimes for a living, looking for clues and the subtleties in life, I’m surprised these people are still employed. I crushed on Sara back then. When I felt things were getting a little intimate between her and Grissom, I still felt the same way for her, if not it grew stronger. When it was official something was going on between her and Grissom, sure I felt bad… but my affection for her never disappeared.
I looked at my reflection in the coffee and sighed deeply.
“No one understands you, Sanders. It’s a real shame…”
Then Catherine came back.
“What’s a real shame?”
Tell her. Tell her how you feel about this whole matter. How furious you are; how irritated you are; how terribly your heart aches. Make her and everyone else realize their wrongs.
“Nothing.” Idiot. Why’d I say that?
“Oh… okay. You sure?”
No. No. I’m not sure. I mean I am sure. I am sure there is something shameful in how
am being treated. I am sure!
“Yes!”
“Well, that’s good. We don’t need any more touchy people right now.”
Sanders, you messed it up again! I AM one of those “touchy people” right now! Oh… just forget it… this will all blow away soon enough. No need to make people feel like you’re insane. Just change the subject. Ask how Grissom is doing. You don’t have to say his name.
“That was quick.”
“What was quick?”
Don’t say his name.
“What you just went to do.”
“Greg, I did a lot of things in the past couple minutes.”
Really? How?
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
Don’t say his name.
“I mean… that thing you had to do… urgently… the urgent thing.” Catherine’s face showed that of realization. I grinned at my cunning. She understood!
“… did Lindsey call?”
No! She didn’t understand! Now you’re getting her scared. Ah, for heaven’s sake…
“No… Grissom.”
“Oh, well, it’s going to take a lot of time for him to deal…”
“… time?”
“… yes. As do all love-related issues.”
Wow, did I feel like yelling into a pillow. I must’ve had the most blank expression on my face, save for a pained smile. After holding her gaze for a few long seconds, I stood up and left. I even left my coffee. Without a word. Gone. Woosh. Disappeared! Just like how everyone feels my emotions towards Sara have done. God, I can’t stand all this ignorance! I just need to get home, away from all these people.
I rounded the corner, pretty damn flustered, and wouldn’t you know who just happened to be approaching me? Hope he doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t say a word to me. Don’t even acknowledge that he’s there, Greg Sanders. Just ignore him…
“G’night, Greg.”
Damn, I looked. He spoke to me. Say something sharp, Greg. Retaliate. Show him how much of a better man you are than he is. Make him regret the day he ever took Sara away from you.
“Yeah, whatever…”
… smooth, Greg. Smooth.

Chapter 2

I returned to work the next day after a restless day’s sleep. I still felt irritable, but I accepted the fact that no one could tell I was hurt. What else could I do? A real man wouldn’t sit around, waiting for people to feel sorry for him. I’m thinking this only makes me stronger, able to withstand other people’s ignorance. That way, you don’t expect anything to happen; and if something does end up happening, cope with it naturally. Nothing worse than a fake image, and I know I’m not fake.
So, in wanting to keep this real image, I kept my hair the way it was found when I rolled out of bed this morning. Doesn’t look bad or anything. In fact, it looks like a ‘do I’d normally carry. Despite that being said, I attracted many eyes from my fellow co-workers as I meandered the lab. The stares might not have been due to my hair, but to me talking to myself.
“And to our right we see the locker room, interestingly enough co-ed. Very different than how I remember it being in high school… first stop: my locker.” Narrating is fun. It was helping me keep my mind off of… other things.
And my mind was kept off of those “other things” for a good while. I must admit, I had quite a dashing smile on my face.
“Next stop: break room for case assignments!” I swung the door shut and started to make my way out of the locker room, when I found my path was obstructed by no other than Grissom himself.
Yeah. My dashing smile flew the coup.
“Hello Greg.”
‘Yeah, whatever.’ I was about to say that again, but I didn’t let that happen. No, instead I did something better: I didn’t respond at all. Doesn’t mean I left – I just didn’t say anything. But then again, I guess I wasn’t making a good impression by standing with my mouth agape either, so I pulled myself together, straightened up, licked my lips and looked him right in the eye.
“Grissom. Hey…” Oh yeah, SO much better than before, “I was just about to see you.”
“Yeah?” Grissom stepped inside the locker room and stood in front of me, his clipboard held tightly to his chest. It seems he carries that thing everywhere.
“Yeah…” Stay calm, Sanders. Don’t explode on him, “you know, for our case assignments.”
“Oh.” Did I disappoint him? I should ask.
“I do get a case today, don’t I?” Or are you going to take that away from me, too?
“Of course. Listen, Greg –“
“Hey Grissom!” Nick! Thank you Nick! Grissom turned to face Nick, who was standing in the doorway. I tip toed over Grissom’s shoulder to see Nick, and furrowed my eyebrows at the bouquet in his hands.
“Nick.” Grissom answered after a moment of silence. Nick stepped forward with a large smile on his face and gestured the flowers towards Grissom. Was this true? Could I believe what I was seeing?
“Gris, these are for you. Thought they might liven up your office with some, you know, color. Nothing like color to brighten up your day!”
I couldn’t help myself. I broke out in hysterical laughter. I should be upset, shouldn’t I? That those flowers weren’t for me, but for Grissom. I knew why they were for Grissom, the actual reason behind it, but it was way too funny. The look on Grissom’s face, the determination on Nick’s face to hand the flowers off, roses! – all too funny.
“Nick, thank you…” Grissom took the flowers slowly and sniffed them a couple times.
“Hahaha! Ooh, nothing like a few dead flowers to ‘liven up’ the mood, eh? Haha! See you guys in the break room!” And off I went, leaving the two baffled, and probably in an awkward situation. All I know is I passed Warrick on the way out of the locker room, who paused at the doorway looking from the flowers, to Grissom, then to Nick.
“… wait for me, Greg…” he said as he changed his mind, jogging up to me. I didn’t stop walking, but didn’t ignore his presence with me, “It’s been crazy here lately, hasn’t it?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well… what with Nick giving Grissom flowers and everything. Hodges, apparently, is making a board game. Did you hear about that?”
Interesting. Hodges, a trace-geek who just might have it in for me (more than “just might,” actually), made a board game! I should try that… might be fun.
“Hodges? A board game? Why… no. That’s interesting. What’s it about?”
“It’s like Clue, but pertains to what we do in and out of the lab. It’s called ‘Lab Rats.’”
“’Lab Rats,’ huh? Sounds very interesting… could bring me back to the good old days.”
“Being cooped up in the lab? You miss being a techie, Greg?”
“In some ways…” we reached the break room and grabbed ourselves a couple of chairs. Warrick leaned back in his chair, trying to figure out how I could possibly miss being a lab geek.
“How so?”
“Well… for one thing –“
I can never finish explaining my feelings, I’ve noticed. At that point Catherine walked in with Nick and Grissom, who was still carrying his lovely bouquet from Nick. Catherine and Nick sat down with a few final words of a conversation about free time and plans. Didn’t know what they meant by that, and quite frankly, I didn’t care. I just wanted my case.
“Catherine,” the “big guy” started, handing a file to her, “you’ll be handling a case with Warrick, just in from the strip: a hit and run. Nick, Greg and I are going to investigate an alleged murder of two newly weds. Brass is waiting for us there.”
A murder, all right! So long as I’m not the one told to do all the dirty, tedious work, I’ll be fine - if that much at all. Once Catherine and Warrick left the room, I realized then with whom I was working with. Shouldn’t matter much, since technically the case is divided up between the three of us, and I’m not forced to converse…
“Coming Greggo?” Nick teased, already out the door. Grissom was still standing there. He was staring at me. I stared at him. Even though neither of us said a single word, he knew I was upset, and I knew he knew. I think he also knew why I was edgy, although I really shouldn’t assume.
I stood up and left the room without looking at Grissom, following Nick. I know I’m not forced to converse with him, but I can only delay it for so long.
 
Re: "Yeah... whatever!" -- I Am the Better Man: As told by G

Chapter 3
Driving to the crime scene wasn’t a problem; it was the painful silence in the car that was. I insisted that I drive to the scene, so I would have an excuse to keep my focus on the road, and not talk to Grissom. Unfortunately, he insisted on sitting next to me. Nick sat in the back, leaning up occasionally to try to spark a conversation, most likely to “cheer Grissom up.” Grissom gave Nick no more than one-worded answers to most of his questions, and I didn’t talk at all.
I think he got the hint.
Brass approaches us once we enter the scene, kits ready by our side. He informs us that the murders took place indoors, and starts describing that the scene isn’t pretty:
“Blood everywhere: floor, walls, furniture…I wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t any in the kitchen sink; didn’t look like our murderer wanted to keep this crime a secret. Problem is, we can’t start processing the scene without contaminating it.”
“How so?” Grissom asks. I’d think it’s obvious: Brass just said blood was everywhere. We’d probably step on the evidence, Grissom. As bitter as my thoughts are, I’m surprised to find my speculation is correct.
“Take a look for yourself…” Brass takes out his flashlight and scans the dark room. Blood spatter was everywhere… except the floor. It was as if a rainstorm blew through with red-dyed water. About a foot away from the doorway stood the husband, I assumed; not too far away did a woman lay, I’m guessing that’s the wife, “The two look like they’ve been brutally stabbed, but there’s no verification of that until David inspects them.”
“I… suppose I’ll start taking photos,” as I always do. I don’t mind much, I suppose. Beats the dirty work, and right now taking pictures is the most productive thing to do, “The challenge is to get them without being inside…”
I run back to the car with my kit, placing it back in the trunk and taking out my camera. I check the memory card, making sure it’s clear, jesting to myself by singing a song by Sir Mixalot, “Oh, baby. I want to get with yah, and take your pict-“ which is when I turn around to find Nick smiling at me, “uuh.”
“Having fun, Greggo?”
“I haven’t started taking pictures yet…” I begin to walk off towards the house, Nick walking by my side, “What’re you going to do?”
“Reach for things after you’ve taken pictures. Can’t step in the house, but I still have to collect what can possibly be evidence.”
“Have fun with that!” I squat just behind the doorway, taking a picture on the appearance of the room. I can feel Nick’s eyes burning holes in the back of my head. It was only an assumption, but I must be on a roll! I’m right again.
“Hey Greg, you all right? You’ve been acting different lately.”
“Oh really?” I sighed. Maybe he is noticing something, “How different?”
“You’ve just been… well, not yourself.”
“I am very much myself, Nick.” I snap another picture as I snap at him, moving around the building to attempt taking photos through the windows. I didn’t mean to snap at him, but I feel it’s necessary for people to know I can’t be “jumpy” all the time. The word fits the description on how people perceive me in the lab, anyway. Nick met me at the window.
“Yeah? Well… this must be a side I’ve never seen before.”
“Must be.” Snap.
“What happened to you?”
“I don’t know,” I look up at him briefly, right in the eyes. I can tell he’s curious, “Why don’t you ask Grissom?” And with that I left him speechless, returning back to my job of taking pictures of the scene.
By the time David finally came along, I had taken all the pictures I possibly could without walking inside and was helping Nick reach for a fiber swimming in the bloody puddle, just out of reach. I look over at David, who looks like he has never seen a dead body before – or maybe it’s the pool of blood – and saw in the background Brass interviewing some bystanders; Grissom was swabbing the rest.
“Am I supposed to step inside?” David asks incredulously. I look up at him and shrug.
“We already photographed the scene as best as we could through the doorway and windows because we were waiting for you. What took you so long?”
“Sorry. My wife –“
“Ah. I see.” Not sure why I cut him off. I think I’d rather not speak of relationships. Yeah… that must be it. Standing up, I bid farewell, “Have fun, Nick.”
“Yeah, thanks Greg,” he huffs as he bags yet another blood-soaked object, squinting through the darkness for more. I made my way over to Brass, seeing if I could be of service. I would have made it to him, too, if it wasn’t for the amazingly obvious suspect I saw trying to hijack my car.
What’s making him so obvious? He’s wearing a blood-stained shirt. If only he had tried to hijack my car before I had taken all those pictures.
“Hey… hey YOU!” All right, my time to shine. I drive his attention away from picking at the car door’s keyhole, and I’m shocked when I see his face. This guy, who can be charged for spilling so much blood so ruthlessly, cannot be more than seventeen years old.
Right then he makes a run for it. I chase after him; by the sound of Brass shouting not too soon after, I think I got more than the kid’s attention. He takes a sharp turn a block and a half down, disappearing. I follow suit, only to face a knife swinging inches away from my face. Quickly, I pull out my gun and aim it at him.
“Put the weapon down!”
He didn’t move from his slouched stance. I lick my lips and tense my grip on the gun. I feel a nervous sweat start to bead on my temple. This scene feels all too familiar.
“I said, ‘Put the weapon down!’”
His breathing – perceptible from a mile away, I bet – is loud and hoarse. Either that or I can be mistaking it for my own. I can soon hear sirens approaching. Back-up is coming. No. No, I want to prove myself. I want to show this guy, everyone, myself, what I’m capable of handling.
“NOW!”
Before I know it, he lunges at me. Memories impaired my comprehension of the situation. All I can see are his clenched teeth, his cold eyes, and the gleam of the knife coming closer, stronger. I jump backwards, dodging his knife, but not one of our own cars trying to screech to a halt.
Then, ringing in my head, I hear the voice of an angel…
“I came here for you, Greg.”
 
Re: "Yeah... whatever!" -- I Am the Better Man: As told by G

Chapter 4
Pain migrated through my body every time I tried to move, so I stayed still. I remember laying on my back, on the floor, my body as straight as a plank. I couldn’t open my eyes, it was so painful. But I remember being hit in the arm, against my side. Why would my eyes hurt so much?
The sound of sirens around me came to a stop. They must have got him. The kid. I hope they got him. If they didn’t, my deed would have been all for naught.
I tried to wrinkle my nose, because I felt a sneeze coming. Problem was, I could barely tell if I was actually moving my nose or not. I probably couldn’t feel myself smile if I had a reason to. The feeling in my face was barely there. How’d I know it was barely there? Why, I felt a gentle touch on my forehead, through my hair. The touch of an angel…
“Sara…”
She had come back!
“Greg?”
“Sara, you came… from San Francisco…”
She came back! She’s here! Oh, I could barely believe it!
“San Francisco? Greg, we’re in Las Vegas.”
“…what?” I grin. Sara, what a joker… Then I felt a hand slap my cheek, “Ow!” I brought up a hand to rub my cheek. That didn’t feel like something Sara would do…
Then I came into realization: My face wasn’t swollen, I could feel just fine. I didn’t smell that special scent. Afraid of what I would see, I hesitantly opened my eyes; they didn’t hurt at all, but opened normally. My vision was blurry at first; I think I might have been sleeping for some time. My eyes wandered my surroundings: I wasn’t outside anymore. I wasn’t on the floor. I was in a hospital room under the covers.
You’d think I would have been happy, being alive and well, but I haven’t felt more hurt in my life. I turned my head towards the chair to my right and didn’t see the angel I thought was talking to me. No, I saw Catherine sitting beside me. Not that Catherine is the devil – I just was expecting someone else…
There was a shocked and angry look on her face directed towards Nick, slapping at his wrist. Nick shrugged and was the first to notice I could see them all.
“Greg! How’re you feeling?”
“Fine, uuh… what happened?” I sat up in the bed, feeling a slight pain in my right arm. Just perfect, the hand I write with might have to be in a sling for precautious measures. Apparently, Nick saw what happened: a cop car was preparing to round the corner when I had leapt backwards into the street. Fortunately, the cop was braking for a tighter turn anyway, so the impact wasn’t as bad as it could have been.
“I had the wind knocked out of me?” I exclaimed in disbelief, “That was it?”
Catherine and Nick exchanged glances with confused faces, Catherine’s mouth agape slightly. She looked back at me and took a moment to prepare her statement.
“You passed out, Greg…”
“Yeah, yeah… but, I mean… did Grissom see?” That would be something. Grissom could see me take a hard one for the team. Being hit by a car during a case has got to mean something. By the look on their faces, my enthusiasm must have confused them even more.
“Of course Grissom saw. He’s interrogating the suspect now with Brass.”
“Oh…” I let my gaze drop to my hands above the sheets, twiddling my thumbs for the hell of it. Funny how amusing it could be. I should be questioning that kid. I caught him. I have the right. I knew that Catherine and Nick wouldn’t let me go, though. But then I remembered the voice that had brought me great comfort…
“Was… anyone else at the crime scene, Nick? That we knew?” My gaze rose to meet his face. He frowned and shook his head, his hands folded across his chest.
“No, not that I can recall, Greg.”
“And, what about here? Any guests?” Nick gave a worried look to Catherine. I think he wanted her to answer the question, but she apparently couldn’t find her voice. She turned again to face me in her seat, clearing her throat, starting half a word then stopping herself. The suspense was killing me, “… Cath?”
“…Greg… do you still –“ she was stopped by Nick, who leaned down and whispered something in her ear. It irritated me that they were sharing secrets right in front of me, but I couldn’t get in on it.
“Uh, hellooo! I’m right here?” Red alert! Red alert! My grouchiness was coming back. Nick straightened up and Catherine smiled at me.
“Do you still want to be in this case?” What kind of question is that? Is that all she wanted to say? I doubt it… I eyed Nick, answering her question.
“Of course I do. This kid isn’t getting away from me. It’s too obvious he did it.”
“Until evidence from trace comes back, we cannot be too sure. We were able to get the bodies out, though; the crime scene couldn’t be any more unpolluted, all the data we could possibly need from the floor was obtained. When you were out chasing the kid, they let me walk inside –“
“None of that matters now.” Nick was interrupted by Brass, stepping into the room, “The kid confessed. A crime out of the love for his sister, and I don’t mean that of siblings. He was jealous and upset that she had ‘betrayed’ him.” He quickly changed gears in tone as he sat at the end of my bed, “How you doing, Greg?”
“Just fine. But is that it? The case is over?”
“Afraid so. Good work, catching the criminal. Taking a hit for the team.” He chuckled and patted my knee. I gave a small smile at his remark – at least Brass was considerate, “Why don’t we give you some shut-eye?”
“I can leave!” I threw the covers off me and made to hop out. My right arm hurt quite a bit. I looked over at it and saw a bruise the size of Texas reaching along it. There goes wearing short-sleeved shirts for the next few weeks. I was ready to jump out when I saw Grissom walking down the hallway towards us. Right then, I put all my good acting to use and cringed, “AAH. OOH. The pain!”
“Greg, you all right?” Catherine’s motherly side shined brighter with every passing minute. I gave a pained nod, my eyes shut tightly.
“Oh yeah. I’ll be… all right…” I relaxed back under the covers and turned away from the open doorway, “I just need… a little rest is all…”
“Go ahead, you deserve it, buddy.” Sounded like Nick that praised me so. I felt the mattress rise slightly as Brass got up from the bed and heard his sharp footsteps against the floor. Catherine left right after with a “sleep well,” and Nick was just about to close the door when Grissom met him.
“I would like to talk with Greg, Nick…”
“I’m sorry, but he’s going to take a nap.” Hah! Foiled again, Grissom. I’m too smart for you.
“What?” I heard Warrick call from outside the room, he sounded flustered, like he had been running. I was trying to visualize the scene in my head, “Did you get to speak with him at all?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Just missed him, didn’t I?”
“Yes, you did.”
“I knew I should have ordered the flowers to his room… I’ll just place them by his bedside; he can see them when he wakes up.”
“Awfully sweet of you, Warrick!” Nick laughed as I heard Warrick walk inside, a rustle sounding from the nightstand next to my bed. I smiled… aw, Warrick. You didn’t have to…
“Yeah, yeah… figured the kid needed some appreciation. You notice he’s been different lately?” Warrick stepped back outside.
“You’ve noticed, too? Oh, and uh… Grissom? What did you do with the flowers I got you?” And Nick’s voice was the last I heard before the door closed. I waited a minute or so before I turned over to face the flowers placed on my bedside. I leaned in close and took a sniff: tulips.
Lying on my back, I gazed up at the ceiling, wondering for how much longer I’d allow myself to stay in here just to avoid a confrontation with Grissom. But I didn’t want to think about him. No… I wanted to think about what I had witnessed. Or… what I had thought I had witnessed. This past scene must’ve brought back memories of the first time I had been injured out in the field, with a bunch of “fannysmackers.” I must have taken the aftermath of that beating, and incorporated it with my current injury, because it included pain. But it didn't have that special scent that I’d be able to recognize anywhere…
That special scent that brought me comfort…
That I needed so badly…
That Sidle scent…
 
Re: "Yeah... whatever!" -- I Am the Better Man: As told by G

Chapter 5
Found myself more comfortable in that room than I had thought; I spent the day there asleep, my biological clock waking me up around the time I usually get up for work. When I woke up, I found a buffet of food accompanying the flowers Warrick had brought me. I grinned at the sight of it all. The gang must know that the way to my heart is through my stomach. I sat up, my arm feeling significantly better, and picked up a box of chocolates first. I found a card – with at least five stamps – attached to it; and on the envelope, it read: Greg. Plain and simple, didn’t really expect anymore from the guys. I opened the envelope up and took out the card, beginning to read the typed letter:

Dear Greg,
Once I heard about what happened to you, I made sure I put as many stamps as necessary to get this letter to you as soon as possible. It’s horrible what happened to you, and it’s hurting me more than you know to be informed of it, of being unable to help you. I was never really an insensitive person when it came to my friends, and I think you of all people know that. Thusly, you must know how useless I feel.
In an attempt to impose my presence onto you, I ordered a box of chocolates to be sent to your room. I know you love to eat, and chocolate is no exception to your menu… or at least I hope. In case it was, I also had a healthy assortment of fruits sent to your room. I know it’s not much… but it’s all I can do right now.
In case you’re wondering, I’m safe in San Francisco

I stopped reading there. I couldn’t believe what I was reading! Is Sara really sending me a letter? Oh, this is too good to be true! Inhaling deeply, I continued reading starting from the beginning of the paragraph… just to make sure:

In case you’re wondering, I’m safe in San Francisco visiting my mother. I’m missing the crew dearly, and you are no exception, Greg. If anything, I’m sorry I left… but I needed a break, a break from everything: the hate, lies, and drama in other peoples’ lives. I got so worked up with other peoples’ lives that I forgot about my own for a moment, and my life became their’s to control… and I couldn’t have that, Greg. I need to be able to control my own life.
I don’t know when I’ll be back, or if I’ll ever be back.
I wish you well. Remember to keep smiling; it’s what helps keeps us sane.
Your Friend,
Sara

Wow… it’s amazing how much better I felt. I felt like I could run a mile! No… ten! A hundred! A thousand! I could run any amount after reading that letter. It’s so relieving to know that Sara is capable of talking to me… and that she even remembers me. I only wish she had hand written this letter so I could study every curve and angle in her letters…
I opened the box of chocolates and stared at the selection. Didn’t matter which square I picked: they’d all taste good. Even if it were a defect – it would still taste delicious. But I decided against taking one and closed the box, figuring it would be better to savor these and only eat one when I needed extra comfort. Besides… chocolates lasted longer than ripe fruit.
Stepping out of bed, I snatched an apple from the basket, carried the box of chocolates under my arm, picked up the flowers with that same hand and found my clothes neatly folded in a bag by the door. Picking them up, I skipped out of the hospital room in my lovely blue gown, taking an occasional bite out of the apple.
The nurse was a little skeptical in believing I was fine and ready to leave; she nearly dragged me back to my room. Finally, I convinced her to let me go if I let her wrap my arm in bandages – I felt that was useless because it felt fine, and I’m not sure what the bandages would do, but whatever it took to leave.
All I knew was I was on my way to work, and not even Grissom could bring my mood down.
 
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