Chapter Thirty-Six: Good to be Back
Nick watched with nervous anticipation as the paramedics slipped the black blood pressure cuff over Greg's arm for the third time. Ten minutes had passed, and they had been able to move Greg from the grass to the back end of the aid car. During that time Nick had fetched a pair of coveralls, helping the young man change into them, before bagging the rest of his clothes. They hung loosely now around his waist, the clothing only covering his lower extremities, but Nick couldn't blame him.
Greg had still been warm when the paramedics arrived. Not warm enough to suggest any problems, but warmer than he or anyone else would have wanted. Granted, he had been locked in a trunk for who knew how long in the desert heat.
At least now he looked reasonably decent. His hair was matted from sweat, but the medics had taken time to clean his face and arms, all the while taking a closer look at his inflamed arm. They had given him a bag of ice, one that he had tried to keep on his arm to no avail, as the crew kept interfering, prodding and poking, recording their findings.
In the end Greg simply gave up, and now the melting pack dripped from the ends, over the railing and onto the ground. Nick moved in closer, once seeing the paramedics back off some. Greg barely acknowledged him, staring straight ahead.
"How are you feeling?"
This time Greg did look at him, his face passive, which made it hard to read what the young man was actually feeling. "I don't know…"
He crouched next to him, so that he was eyelevel with the seated man. "It would make us all feel better if you went," Nick nodded his head toward the unit, but Greg was already shaking his head. "Greg, just listen…"
"No," he cut the Texan off abruptly. "You listen. You have no idea what I just went through, and the worst of it? I got myself into that mess…I went along willingly just for the spite of it all. I was so stupid…"
"He got fifteen others the same way Greg," Nick informed him. "You weren't stupid…he was just crafty."
"He shot him," Greg muttered quietly, "He killed his accomplice, the one person he trusted enough to keep everything quiet, the one man he relied on to get the job done. Within mere seconds…there was no thought to it…he just did it."
Nick nodded, not having to ask who the 'he' even was. Their suspect, Mr. Smith aka John Lastings, was in custody; there wasn't a judge in the entire state that would let him walk. He could no longer cause any harm.
"I was...I don't know...horrified to watch it happen...I know it's strange, but I can't help but feel...sorry...for Mitch. I mean...I know what he did...to everyone...and how...but I just feel...I don't know...I guess I'm not making much sense." Greg ended with a nervous chuckle as he looked up towards Nick, "I can't really explain it..."
"Hey…you watched the man murder someone in cold blood. The same person that still had you captive. You had reason to be afraid."
"It was worse, sitting there and knowing what was going to happen."
Nick nodded, knowing how the mind could play games. Sometimes not knowing what was going to happen was horrid, but in this case, knowing had to have been terrifying. "When did you start to remember?"
The issue hadn't been brought up much in the last half hour now. Greg was reluctant to speak of it seemed like, but then again it could be due the trauma he had endured. Surely the man's stress level was clear off the charts.
"I don't know really," Greg confessed, shifting to face the Texan some more. "I just sort of…remembered. Here and there…it wasn't like, bang, I remember. More of…a dull realization that I already knew that."
"You were lucky," Nick told him quietly, "and smart. If you hadn't gotten that knife out the window…"
"I wasn't thinking," Greg laughed, closing his eyes. "I was just doing. I figured that I was going to die, might as well go down fighting, right?"
Nick nodded, smiling. "You did good."
They both looked up however as another car pulled up to a stop, the occupants piling out quickly. Nick had called Grissom shortly after the paramedics arrived to relate the good news, and he turned back to the timid man with a smile. "You've got visitors."
He was starting to leave, but Greg caught his wrist, stopping him for a moment. "Don't tell Sara," he muttered quietly, his gaze flicking briefly between him and the approaching brunette. Nick gave him a questioning look, but nodded, trusting the CSI as he left, meeting the small group halfway there.
"How is he?" Grissom asked, wasting no time in getting down to business.
"Cuts and bruises mostly," Nick nodded, "twenty stitches to his palm, and they wrapped his hand as well. He's running a little warm, a bit dehydrated, and there's no telling when he last ate, but he is coherent, and responding well to treatment."
"Can I…we see him?" Sara breathed, hardly daring to take her eyes off Greg's form. Through the tears, the misery she had spent, walking in front of that news store, everything had been brought to a screeching halt as Brass pulled up, informing her of the breathtaking news. The entire way she hadn't been able to stop shaking, hadn't been willing to believe it. Even seeing him there now…it wasn't enough. She needed to be near him, needed to touch him, hold him. Reassure herself that this was real, that it wasn't just some dream mocking her subconscious wants.
"You go on," Grissom assured her once Nick had nodded.
Sara didn't protest, walking across the pavement with bare feet. She hadn't time to change from then to now, but at least she didn't have to put up with the painfully tight shoes. Greg lifted his head as she approached, and she stopped just short of him, kneeling down in the same manner as Nick had been only minutes before.
"Hey…" she chocked out the soft word, her voice nearly breaking. The entire ride over she had thought of what she was going to say to him, what she was going to ask…but now that she was face to face with him she couldn't even form a coherent sentence.
Greg returned her weak smile with one of her own, letting out a breath. "You uh…you look nice," he swallowed lightly, "one of the few times I've seen you in a dress. What, you couldn't wait until I was officially dead to party?"
She winced at his words, dropping to her knees as her hands clutched the thin material that covered her. "It's a long story," she responded quietly, trying to forget what he had just said… "Just don't…don't say things like that…"
"I'm sorry," Greg apologized quickly, knowing that he had crossed the line. He reached out to take her hand, and it must have surprised her because she jumped slightly at the contact. "I just don't want you to worry…"
"You're shaking," she muttered quietly, closing her hands around his one. She had ignored his last statement, glancing up to watch him.
"Yeah," Greg nodded; he knew that he had been for quite some time now. "Sort of like after the lab explosion…"
"You weren't this bad then," she shook her head. "I would have noticed…"
Greg only grinned as she glanced up at him quickly, amazement shining in her eyes. "You remember?"
He nodded, still holding the warm smile he had offered up.
"How much?"
"A lot…" Greg admitted, shifting then. "I guess…it's there, but fuzzy still. I can't remember a lot that's happened…I mean the accident and all. I know it did, but I don't remember it, or the time in the hospital."
Sara reached up then, brushing her hand against his cheek with a longingly smile. "Do you remember…us?"
His only response was a smile, as he pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her frail form. He could feel her crying, the wet tears landing on his bare neck and shoulder, her body shaking almost as much as he was. Greg held her tight, burying his face into her hair. "God Sara…I thought that I'd never get to see you again…"
"I knew it," she breathed softly, choking back a sob. "I knew that you'd come back…I couldn't stand the thought of not having you. I love you so much…"
"I love you too," he whispered, still holding he close. It was the very phrase she had been waiting forever to hear, and she wrapped her arms around his neck, afraid that if she let him go, he would once again disappear. But it was clear, as he rubbed her back soothingly, this was no dream, and that he was here to stay.
"One coffee?" Nick wondered, handing the menu over to Catherine who set it on top of the others.
"Two," Greg cut in, his attention on the nearly healed scar on his hand. He was picking intently at it, flexing it briefly before scratching at it lightly. Sara's hand on his wrist stopped him, and he let out a low whine, pulling away.
"It itches," he complained, curling his fingers into a fist.
"It's not going to heal if you keep doing that," Sara reminded him firmly, settling her elbows on the table.
"Cortizone would help that," Grissom cut in, studying the younger man. He looked quite a bit better, most of the bruises and cuts healing within the last passing week. Greg's spirit would suggest otherwise.
The man had been trying to fall back into routine, but it was difficult. The experience had taken a toll on him, and not just physically. To make matters worse the press had come out in full force, bombarding the ex-lab tech with each and every passing moment that was possible.
Through this time Sara had been his forte, reminded him that he didn't have to talk. Retelling the horrific ordeal once had been enough for him, and the coming weeks weren't going to be any easier on him.
News had spread quickly around the lab of Greg's recovery, and the man was simply trying to live up to what everyone expected of him, and mentally, it was exhausting him. Greg however, cracked a smile as he gripped his cup, taking a careful sip.
"Will it help erase the nightmares?"
There was no response, the question hanging in open air. It was an uncomfortable topic, and it was Grissom who once again responded before letting the situation get too far out of control. "Therapy would…for the both of you."
"We talked," Sara interjected quietly, "And we're considering our options…"
"That tox screen finally came back," Warrick mentioned, eager to change topics now. "It was stonefish venom."
"I could have told you that," Greg made the snide remark. "Oh wait, I think I did."
There were numerous chuckles across the table, but it was cut short as Grissom spoke up once again. "If Lastings medical knowledge was better he would have known to give you a more concentrated dosage. With your treatment in the hospital, your system has built up an immunity to sedatives."
"Well, I'm grateful that he didn't do all his homework then," Greg put in, taking another sip. "What do you think he'll get?"
"Life," Grissom answered casually, "In the very least. We're pushing for the death penalty though. Once you give your statement, that'll be enough…"
To this Greg didn't respond, lost somewhere in his cup of coffee, seemingly trying to disappear behind it. Grissom noted his discomfort, quickly offering up the other option.
"You can choose to do a deposition Greg, that way you wouldn't have to face him in court."
Greg shook his head quickly, looking up at him. "I can…after all, someone has to speak up for all those who can't…right?"
Sara's comforting hand on his shoulder was a gentle reminder that he wasn't alone in this, and he gave her a reassuring smile. "If anyone can do this, then you can."
"There's still months," Nick reminded him as well, "before the trial will take place. It's not like we're expecting you to go tomorrow."
"And if you need help," Catherine spoke up now, "all you need to do is ask. We're here for you, one hundred percent of the way."
"I'll tell you," Greg responded with a calm smile. "It's wonderful knowing such wonderful people. I don't know how to thank any of you enough…"
"It's what friends do Greg," Warrick cut in, nodding towards him.
Grissom pulled out his pager as it went off, reading the message with a frown. "I've got a db at the Mirage, Catherine you're with me. Nick and Warrick you two have a double at the landfill."
"What about us?" Sara questioned, speaking up as the others started to gather their stuff.
"It's your night off," Grissom indicated to the pair, "Enjoy it."
She was about to protest, more than anxious to get back into the flow of work, especially with Greg at her side, but her words were cut short as lightning lit the sky, followed by a roar of thunder. Within seconds the clear night had opened up into a steady downpour, soaking the earth.
"You wanna trade?" Nick wondered, laughing as his offer was shot down by her icy glare. She was now grateful to be going home.
Now alone she turned back to Greg to find him staring out the window, her gaze following his to see what he found so intriguing. "There's nothing quite like a summer rainstorm to end the day, is there?"
She rubbed his back gently, moving up to lean her head on his shoulder shortly after pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Let's go home."
The End
And so it ends…hard to believe. Well not really, seems like this has been going on forever.
Yes, there is a Sequel, but I won't start posting it until next month, because face it, I'm going to be gone for the last half of this month, and it's pointless to start a new story and leave you hanging. Although if I get many wonderful bribes, I might start it early. Motivation is a wonderful thing after all.
Upcoming story:
Faraway Dreams
Happily ever after seemed so far away, especially at a time like this. Questions of trust and loyalty arise when a new threat interferers in Greg and Sara's life. Along with that comes new dangers as an old case resurfaces, bringing to light memories that should have been forgotten.