Title: The Dangers of Living
Author: Clockstopper
Fandom and Pairing: CSI: Vegas, none
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Gen
Warnings: Spoilers for Play With Fire (3x22) and Fannysmackin' (7x04)
Notes: This got all character study with some slash because Nick refused to be not heard. It's all conjecture slash, if that makes any sense, so I think technically it fits for Gen.
Summary: "It's dangerous."

"Living's dangerous mom." Greg had said.
A look at Greg's life.



When Greg was six, he fell off the monkey bars and broke his arm.

He remembers loving the monkey bars, the freedom of swinging around and way it was almost liking flying. He'd practiced moves on those things all the time and he figured he had this one down. It was more difficult than the others, but he'd seen it done on television and he figured if he just twisted the right way and threw himself just right, he'd make it.

Thinks he can make it look like all those Olympic champions he's seen, graceful and smooth and totally awesome.

He miscalculated though, which was saying a lot for him even at an early age, and landed smack dab on his left arm and he could actually hear it crunch underneath him. It hurt, the pain swelling fast and rushing through his body and it brought tears to his eyes.

So he did what any little boy would do... he cried.

His mother had been fussy, like any good mother would be and she rushed him to the hospital, held him until the tears subsided and he put on his brave face, just in time for his father to walk through the doors to the hospital room.

Greg remembers his father smiling and sighing and hugging Greg gently, lightly punching his good arm that wasn't in a cast and sling and Greg remembers his father calling him brave.

Greg had smiled with pride at that.

He doesn't know when it changed. When they went from being carefree to being overprotective. He remembers that as the last time he got hurt and they were like normal parents about the whole thing. Had that whole ‘kids will be kids' attitude that didn't cause them to stress out majorly.

He thinks it happened when he was ten, they're happy smiling faces as his mother calmly explained that Greg was going to have a little sister. He was wary of the idea at first, had friends that had little brothers and sisters and they always seemed so annoying.

But he remembers thinking about how happy and hopeful they looked and he remembers putting on his best fake smile and saying that would be great.

But then... it wasn't.

~*~

He remembers the long hours he spent in the hospital and his father's face and how he looked totally lost. Remembers sitting at his mother's bedside, holding her hand in his and she mostly slept and cried for that first week.

The next week she was more herself, her face smiling even if it was a little sad and forced and relatives poured into to hug her and kiss her and do the same for Greg and his father. Greg didn't totally understand what was going on, but he was smart kid and could piece it together.

He remembers Papa Olaf there sitting quietly in a seat as unobtrusively as humanly possible. He said nothing and Greg remembers thinking that that might have something to do with his English not being the best.

Greg remembers him talking to his father, all in Norwegian which Greg barely understood at the time, but he knew enough to know that it was all serious talk.

Remembers Papa Olaf taking him to the side, holding his hand tightly as he smiled at Greg.

"You are such a big boy." He had said, his English fragmented, but Greg got it all the same.

"Thank you." Greg had said earnestly.

"You will make your mother proud."

Greg hadn't understood it then. Wasn't even sure what they were talking about, but Papa Olaf took it seriously and then he had bought Greg and ice cream at the cafeteria.

It wasn't until much later, his mother getting out of the hospital and she demanded that Greg curl up with her, that Greg had said anything.

"I didn't really want a little sister." He had whispered.

"I know sweetie." His mother had said into his hair.

"But she made you so happy. I just wanted you to be happy." Greg had said earnestly.

She had tried her very best not to cry, but failed and Greg had hugged her close.

"It's okay." Greg remembers whispering.

"Of course it is. I have you right. That's all I need."

Greg remembers smiling at that.

But he didn't know. Didn't know that she would be so overbearing. That the next time he went on the monkey bars and fell she would rush over to him and pick him up, inspecting for any sign of bruising before she yelled at him and that made him cry.

He didn't go on the monkey bars after that.

~*~

He started losing friends too. Kids his age had slumber parties and birthdays at Chuck E Cheese's and went to the park and were part of Boy Scouts. His mother didn't like him being away from home that long, not even a night. She thought the plastic balls and tube slides were too dangerous. The park was okay for walking, but the metal slide was a death trap and there was nothing of consequence to be learned at Boy Scouts.

His father fought with her, but it was half-hearted and Greg didn't have it in him to fight. So he endured as kids called him a mommy's boy, the same kids who used to pick up worms with him and ride Ferris wheels at the carnivals.

"You don't need them." His mother had said.

Greg remembers just nodding.

He did fun things with his mom. She brought home interesting books on chemicals and elements and reactions with slightly hard equations, but they were fun to try and puzzle out. She bought him his first chemistry set and let him explore with it under her supervision.

It was okay when he was a kid. He could forget the other kids and console himself in the fact that he knew how hydrogen bonds formed with oxygen to make water molecules. He could be the smart kid in class that the teachers adored and he could make his mother smile wider than any other kid ever made their mother smile.

But... high school rolled around, sooner for Greg than all the other kids in his grade and suddenly being smart was frowned upon and cool kids ran the show and he got picked on for his head gear and dorky clothes.

"Did your mom pick those out for you Sanders?" Jimmy Picks would say and Greg would ignore him.

He figured it was easier than answering yes.

He took the advanced classes in math and science and got by with regular English and History classes, never a doubt in his mind that they were fun, but he was going to be a scientist and that was that.

He joined the chess team because he was good at it and he made friends with the other equally smart kids around him and they all took a shine and made Greg the lead geek. It was a nice setting.

He was sixteen before he thought different, his mom late picking him up and Greg filed it away for later to use as a point for getting him his license, something his mother vehemently refused to do.

With nothing to do, he walked the field aimlessly and almost got hit in the head with a baseball.

"Throw it here, Sanders. That is if you can throw it that far." Jimmy Picks had said laughing and his goons laughed and Greg picked up the ball.

Calculated the wind resistance and the pressure and the angle of descendent quickly in his head before throwing the ball in just the right way that Jimmy Picks said ooaf when he caught it.

It'd been a whirlwind after that. The coach talking to him, asking him to throw a few more balls, just for good measure and Greg thinks the guy was in a state of utter joy by the third ball.

And that's when his mother showed up.

Pissed and angry, she stormed the field in hysterics and practically ripped the ball from Greg's hand and dragged him off.

"I want to play." Greg had said.

"No."

"Mom."

"It's too dangerous."

"It's baseball. I'd be pitching. That's not dangerous at all."

"I said no, Gregory. And that means no."

Greg had been so close to saying something he'd regret, but he just folded his arms against his chest and didn't talk the rest of the ride home.

Didn't try to convince his dad and just asked to get some shopping done.

His father said he'd go and Greg said great and an hour or two later and Greg had a new wardrobe and some new music and some new everything. Didn't care if his mother didn't like it because it wasn't like it was dangerous.

Doc Martens and black clothing and his mother had sighed and said nothing. Even when the loud music blared through his stereo and Greg knew she had wanted to say something.

He stopped asking for her help with homework partly because he knew it already and partly because he'd had to go to school the next day after the fiasco on the field. Had to tell the coach, that no, he couldn't play and blame it on something as stupid as asthma which no one who was out on the field believed. Had to deal with Jimmy Picks and his gang calling him a Momma's Boy and their utter disgust at someone like Greg being gifted with an arm.

He figured it was his own type of rebellion and she'd just have to deal with it, like it or not.

~*~

When he left for college he went to the dorms even though they were pretty much a ten minute drive away from his house. He got paired up with guys that were always trying to get him to do their homework, but he never caved, even when money and blowjobs were on the table.

And, in a fit of true rebellion, he moved to New York for his graduate work. His mother refused to acknowledge it until he was gone and he spent three blissful years without the constant strain of having to be his parent's everything.

Three years where he did everything and anything and never told them about it. And when his mom called on Sundays to just hear his voice he pretended to not be hung over because he had no doubt that she would hop the first plane to New York and drag his ass back to California.

He had liked New York. Thought it was cool and breezy, a nice change from California though he did miss the surfing and the beach. He was all set up to work at the crime lab in New York because that had been what he wanted to do since having Professor Ingle, who was a from technician at a crime lab, and Greg thought it was the perfect job for him.

But that was before the call. The call in which his father was frantic and demanding that Greg come home now with now exceptions.

So he did and he found his mother in a hospital bed, again for the second time in his life, but Greg was much to big to curl up in the bed with her.

She'd had a heart attack, at age fifty she'd had a heart attack and Greg was in the middle of his life and he'd forgotten all about her.

"I'm fine." She had said.

He took a job and the San Francisco crime lab anyway.

He spent a year there before Vegas called. There was an opening and apparently Greg was a genius and smart and capable and they wanted him there in their lab. He hadn't wanted to leave, but she had insisted, softly so and said that she got it.

Got that he needed a life that didn't involve her and she'd seen him through enough of his brilliance, bachelors degrees and a masters and she wanted him to go.

So he went, looked back a few times and she still called him on Sundays and Wednesdays and Thursdays and sometimes Tuesdays if she was feeling up to it. She said she was recovering nicely and Greg told her that he was starting to fit at the lab and she said that that was nice.

~*~

He'd been working there four years before it happened.

He doesn't remember much of that's day. Smoke and fire and burning and pain like he's never remembered and he was hopped up on so much pain medication that he didn't really notice that she was there, holding his hand like he had done when the situation was reversed.

"I'm not going to ask you to come back." She had said.

"I wouldn't."

"I know. Your father says you get that from me so I have no one to blame but myself."

"Oh."

"He wouldn't let me."

"Oh."

"I think he's still pissed that I wouldn't let you become a baseball star."

"Oh."

Greg doesn't tell her that he tried it, played in New York and he'd been good, but it was nothing like science so it didn't matter that much to him anyway.

"You're going to be fine."

It had been weird to see her that calm and he suspected she broke down in the hotel room when it was just her and his father. He would later get confirmation when she squeezed his hand before she left, so afraid of the fresh wounds on his back that she didn't dare hug him. Squeezed and Greg saw the tears. Saw the fears and the sadness and the desperate need to bundle Greg up in a blanket and cart him back home.

She didn't though.

~*~

"It's dangerous."

"Living's dangerous mom." Greg had said.

He remembers talking to her about becoming a CSI because it had been something he had wanted for so long, since he decided that it was the life for him and she protested loudly.

"There are criminals with guns, Gregory. People who don't want to go to jail. When it's you between them and freedom and they have bullets, who do you think is going to win?"

"There are cops around, mom."

"Not enough."

"There's no winning with you on this."

"No, there isn't."

He remembers sighing and talking about something else. Never told her that he was already doing the training. Never told her when he passed his training. Never told her about going out into the field and how he had bullets whizzing by his head occasionally, but he dealt with it.

He was sneaky. Christmas would roll around and they'd ask and he'd tell stories that actually happened to Mia or Wendy and they believed it. He went almost two years before he had to tell them.

"You keep looking at it doesn't mean it's gonna go away any faster."

"Shut up."

Greg watches as Nick holds up in mock surrender and Greg really wishes he could roll his eyes or at least glare at him.

"It's pretty bad." Greg says solemnly after a few seconds of touching his bruises.

"Yeah, but it'll get better."

"Oh sure, it'll get better. With time, right. Time I don't have because their plane gets here in an hour and she is seriously going to flip out."

He studies his faces, fingers brushing against the broken cuts and mottled bruises. He spent tons of time on his skin, more than he'd really like to admit, to make it smooth and flawless and it's all gone with a few well placed punches.

"Totally freak."

Nick smiles nervously at him because he's met Greg's parents, both of them during the whole lab explosion and Greg knows that Nick thinks he's exaggerating because she was so cool then.

But that was because she knew. Knew that he was in the lab and it was only unsafe for a little while. She had warned about criminals and guns and all the nasty things that kept her up at night when he was little.

"She'll be fine. She freak out at first, but then she'll want to take care of you."

"I lied."

"Not really."

"Okay I omitted the truth except I also lied."

Nick laughs a little at that like he can't help himself with it and Greg really wishes he could scowl.

"I'm sorry man. Just... put your tail between your legs and pout. Mom's can't resist good pout and your pretty good at that."

He grabs Greg's good hand and holds it in his own for a few seconds and Greg smiles at him.

~*~

Nick's not there when his mom comes, practically throws herself on the bed and starts to weep, loudly and a little embarrassing, but Greg says nothing. He can tell by the look on his dad's face that he knows, that maybe he's known for awhile because Greg could fool his mom, which was surprising considering her eagle eye, but he's never been able to fool his dad for that long.

It's an hour before she calms down and starts yelling because apparently they went to the crime lab first and the beans were spilled. She yells and tells him she was right and then goes on and on about his face and his hands and everything and she starts to cry again.

"I was doing the right thing." Greg says.

It's a lot for himself too because the kid died and Greg feels unbelievably guilty about it.

She just grabs his good hand and looks at him.

"I know."

"I saved a man's life." Greg says.

He thinks they may give him a medal, at least Brass mentioned one and so did Ecklie when he stopped by to say congratulations on a job well done. Nick had been there and practically growled at Ecklie when he thought he was there for too long.

"I know. They say you were very brave."

She has to hold onto that because it's keeping her sane right now so he lets her thinking that even if he doesn't quite believe it himself.

~*~

"Hey." Nick says quietly.

Greg hums.

"Your parents come in yet."

"Yeah. I think they're in the cafeteria."

"Oh, well, I just... my shift's over. Thought I'd come by and see ya for a few minutes."

"You should go to sleep."

"House isn't too far away from here. You know that."

Greg nods as best as he can.

"How you holding up?"

"Okay. It wasn't as bad as I thought. Someone already broke the news."

"Oh, that's... that sucks."

"She was less hysterical then I remember. Mostly, she's just babying me."

"Did you pout?" Nick says with a smile on his face.

"I'm not going to dignify that with an answer." Greg says haughtily.

"That is such a yes." Nick says laughing.

Greg laughs too even though it hurts a little.

And then, he's not laughing. He's crying and he's not sure why and Nick looks at him weirdly.

"She thinks I was brave." Greg whispers.

"You were Greg."

"I killed someone."

As non-segue ways go, Greg thinks that's a dozy, but he never liked smooth transitions.

"He... he was going to attack you. It was self defense man."

"He's still dead." He says through his sniffles.

Nick just holds his hand.

~*~

"Nick seems nice." His mother says as they wheel him out of the hospital.

He gets to go home after weeks there and it feels good, better than good and he watches as his dad pulls the car in front of the emergency area.

"You met him for like five seconds."

"It was longer than that Gregory and he still seems nice."

"He's cool."

"There's nothing..."

Greg takes a deep sigh.

"No."

"Hmm... I got the feeling that maybe... but I guess not."

Greg doesn't mention the half dozen or so attempts and failures and just lets her think what she's going to.

"So, home, you gonna be okay here without me." She whispers in his ear as she helps him get into bed later.

"You're not leaving now are you." Greg says and he knows it sounds childish, but he likes her there.

"Soon, I can't stay here forever." She says.

"No, you can't."

"But I can stay here for a little while."

Greg smiles as he closes his eyes and tries not to see glowing blue contacts and dead kids and crazy kids. Tries to sleep soundly and his mom runs her fingers through his hair to move away errant strands and he sighs.

He's asleep in minutes.