All of Me
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI and did not write the song "My Immortal" by Evanescence, no matter how much I wish I did.
I'm so tired of being here,
"Have you discussed this with Grissom yet?"
The light in Greg's eyes changed, at the mention of his name. Just because he wasn't a full-time CSI anymore, didn't mean Ecklie wasn't observant.
"No. I wanted to see if it was a possibility before I brought it up. I figured it would be quicker just to ask you," he replied, his voice in an uncharacteristic monotone. "I don't care about better hours, I just want different ones," he added.
"Why?" Ecklie asked, genuinely curious.
Suppressed by all my childish fears.
Greg sighed. There was no way he was going to tell Ecklie the real reason he couldn't work this shift anymore. He decided on a simpler, blander version; the truth, but not all of it.
"I just can't concentrate in this…" he struggled for a word, "…environment."
"You want to be more specific about that?" Ecklie pushed, slightly annoyed.
"I can't work efficiently with certain colleagues. And I don't want to mention names," Greg stated hurriedly, as though afraid Ecklie would object to his answer.
Ecklie, with an idea of his own that he didn't wish to voice aloud, questioned him no further.
"I'll look into Sanders, but I can't make promises, and I won't pull strings," he told him with a tone of finality, as his eyes returned to the papers on his desk.
Greg took this as a dismissal, and stood up to leave. "Thanks," he said before walking out the door.
And if you have to leave,
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here,
And it won't leave me alone.
As he walked down the hallway he saw her coming in his direction. Panicking, he looked around for a room he could jump into quickly, without her seeing him. Too late.
"Hey Greg," she greeted him kindly with her classic gap-toothed grin.
"Hi," he said, avoiding her eyes as he kept walking.
These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time can not erase
Sara stopped in the middle of the hallway and watched his receding back. There was something wrong with his voice. It had been that way for over a week now, and she couldn't figure out just what was behind it. It wasn't the expressive, light-hearted, bouncy tone she was used to hearing. Instead it was hollow and so ambiguous it made her worry. She got the feeling that it was somehow tied to her.
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
Greg sat on the bench in the locker room, in front of his open locker. Memories flooded through his mind, all consisting of her. Memories he had tried to shove out of his head. He had done such a good job of avoiding her lately too.
But you still have all of me.
As he went to shut his locker he noticed an old picture stuck to the back wall, where no one but him could see it. It was of them together, taken way back at the relay race they had ran so long ago. His arm was around her shoulder, and they were both laughing at something out of view. He pulled it off the wall and held it in his hand, remembering how he had cherished it, like a high-school boy with a crush. He crumpled it up and threw it at the trashcan, not noticing that he missed as he walked out the door.