Awake - 9/24

Author: Daniela
Fandom: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Pairing: Greg/Grissom
Rating: PG
Category: Angst, Romance
Series/Sequel: Breaking the Ice
Disclaimer: I don't own them, but I love them dearly.
Summary: Greg has serious problems.
Warning: Pre-slash, Spoiler for "Inside the Box"
Feedback: Yes, please. It's the icing on my cake.
Word Count: 1226
Released: July 2003
Revised March 2021
Beta: Isha

"Greg, your hands are shaking," Gil said, bewildered, watching the chemist doing routine work. What the hell? Did he come back to work too soon? Does he have PTSD?

"No, they are not," Greg denied, though his brown eyes were full of fear. He looked like a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

Scared of me? Scared of being punished? Scared of losing his job? Gil wondered but didn't give in. "Put your hands up." Oh hell. Greg's hands were shaking a great deal.

Greg's shoulders slumped. "They've been shaking ever since...." he said and glanced over to the destroyed section of the lab. The scene of the explosion. "I can't make it stop." His smile was everything else but cheerful.

"Does it affect your work?"

"If I were a bomb expert, maybe," Greg quipped, still hanging on to that fake smile.

Gil didn't smile. Holy smoke! This was serious. Greg needed help, maybe even more time to recover. Should he write a report? Should he send him to rehab?

"No, I think I have it under control."

For heaven's sake. Don't look at me like that. Gil felt the urge to hug him. Damn. He wanted to take him into his arms and kiss the sorrows away. Okay. Enough. Get out. "It will stop. If you need me, I'll be around."

"Okay." Greg gazed at him, remarkably close-lipped.

Gil walked away before he was tempted to say anything else. He hated to see Greg hopeless and scared. He was supposed to be happy and cheerful all the time if possible. He needed Greg to be the opposite of him. Greg's talents made him happier and more relaxed. Come on. You want him to be far more than that. You just forbid yourself to go for it, to take a chance, to take him. Greg wouldn't mind. Since the visit at the hospital, you know, he has a crush on you. Gil rolled his eyes. So what? Still not gonna happen. So, stop having silly fantasies. Right. He rushed on to bury himself in work. So much work he was able to blend out any private desires.

A few hours later Hodges and a bunch of lab workers standing together reminded Gil that problems didn't just go away by wishful thinking. Not with a cynical poser who likes to cause a scene anywhere and anytime.

"Did you see how his hands were shaking? How can he work accurately? Despite this he's still Grissom's favorite lab pet," Hodges spurred the group on. "Always number one to give him results. The first of us to be out in the field. Why so? He isn't better than us, is he?"

The few men and women who had gathered around him didn't reply. They had already seen their boss approaching and lowered their heads in anticipation of a blow-up.

Hodges wasn't as lucky because his back was turned to Gil.

"Well, if you want to be the number one, stop giving speeches behind my back," Gil snarled, razor-sharp.

Hodges whirled around, yet he didn't look ashamed. Why, no. He smiled like the nasty piece of work he was known for.

"Where's Sanders?" Gil addressed the group, ignoring Hodges. Don't think I won't keep that in mind though.

"He ran out because Hodges bothered him about his hands shaking," Bobby said, trying his best to become invisible. "He said Greg would never go out in the field again in his life."

Okay. Fine. Gil glared at Hodges after all. "Then you know more than me. No final decision has been made in this matter." He turned to the rest of the group. "Go back to work."

There! They scattered like a flock of flushed sparrows, twittering.

Hodges stayed though. He appeared strangely excited at the prospect of getting a dressing down by his boss.

Whatever. You're not worth the trouble. "You too, Hodges!" Gil clenched his jaw.

"Sure, I'm busy, given that Sanders prowls around the building, being no good for nothing," Hodges huffed and walked away with his head held high.

That guy. Not only too full of himself but also too damn sneaky. Gil went outside to look for Greg anyway. If Hodges would snoop around after him so be it. I dare you.

At first, he thought Greg was nowhere near the building but then he saw him clinging to a pillar, as if he couldn't stand up on his own. Okay. Gently now. Light-footed he walked over and joined Greg at his poor hiding spot.

Even though Greg had wrapped his arms around himself he was shaking. "Hey, Grissom. You don't have to say anything about me not having enough work to do. I'm back inside in a minute. I just needed some air."

"Don't worry. None of that. I'm rather concerned than displeased."


"Why do you listen to Hodges? I always believed you'd never listen to anyone. Not even to me," Gil murmured. He was only teasing but Greg wasn't in the mood for jokes.

"That's not true. I always listen to you. I would never doubt your word. N-Not on purpose," Greg spluttered and then he pressed his lips together as if he feared he had said too much.

Oh boy! Keep your chin up! Gil leaned in. "Don't pay attention to Hodges. He just envies you for being in the field."

"In this condition I'll never do field work again."

"I told you, it will stop, and I'll be here for you if you need my help."

"I know... it's just... I'm surprised about the way you talk to me lately."

"What's that supposed to mean? Sure, I'm not good with people but even I... I have some manners..."

"Yeah, sure, but you were never this nice to me. It makes me... uh..." Greg swallowed, shaking still.

"What?" Come on. You know what he means. Don't push him.

"Uh... nothing." Greg lowered his eyes and studied the ground.

Gil exhaled. Right. Easy now. Easy. Act your age. His other side - the not so mature side - was craving to kiss Greg. Kiss him until he was shaking for different and more pleasant reasons. Oh hell. No way. I can't do this. I can't put everything I've worked so hard for at risk. Not for a guy who likes Black Flag, for god's sake. Yet he couldn't resist the urge to stroke over Greg's messy hair.

Greg's head snapped around. His brown eyes were swimming in tears.

That's it. Quit it. Gil cleared his throat. "Let's go back inside. Keeping busy will help you focus."

"Whatever you say," Greg whispered, fidgeting, but then he skipped into a walk.

Gil followed him slowly. Holy smoke! That was a close call. What was I thinking? Keep your hands to yourself. In the lab, he favored Greg with a reassuring smile at least. "Hang in there. You'll pull through. If Hodges or anyone else gives you a hard time tell me. I'll keep them in line with an official warning."

"Okay." Greg pulled a brave face and then went back to his workspace. Really? Will it stop? The shaking of my hands, maybe, but what's with the longing for Grissom? The wanting for him to touch more than my hair, to kiss me and make love to me. Jeez. I'm fucking sick.

Yeah. Lovesick.

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