Title: Never Simple
Author: Toybox
Pairing: Nick/Greg
Rating: R
Notes: I was listening to Shadow Of The Day (Linkin Park) and this came out. It's rambling and pointless but it's there. I'm not sorry even if it bites. ^_^;
Summary: Even the strongest fall sometimes and when they do, their descent is spectacular. But when they don't fall, it's even more of a show. However, things are just never that simple.

***

They just didn't understand, that was all. No one ever did. Not really. Except Nick. Nick always stood by him, loved him. . .he let Greg be who he was and didn't try to change him. Nick knew he wasn't perfect but thought enough of him to respect him.

But that's not what other's thought, or did. After all he wasn't supposed to change, wasn't suppose to move past his wild youth and become a man. He was supposed to remain the gangly, rambunctious boy of yesteryear with the terribly loud shirts and even louder music. Never was he supposed to have a firm opinion on the world around him, at least not one that was supposed to be taken seriously.

Greg wondered about that. He had opinions on all sorts of things but for the world around him . . . he liked to keep an open mind about that because he knew that it'd never stay the same. The world revolved and evolved every second of every day. How could he form an opinion on something that never stayed the same from one moment to the next?

Truth was he couldn't and more than likely would never. He didn't like putting limits on things like that and a firm opinion was a limit. It meant that it wouldn't change with ease as easily as just a passing fancy or fleeting opinion. Initial versus Final. Final was just. . .so Final.

He was far more flexible than that but that didn't mean he didn't have them; firm opinions. Like the ones he had about Hate. That one would never change. Never. It was something he wanted to distance himself from but was constantly surrounded by it. Greg didn't like Hate but knew that he harbored it. It was human nature to both Love and Hate so he couldn't truly ever be away from but it was one that he could have a Firm Opinion about.

He had another Firm Opinion and this one was the one that whispers in the halls were about, the reason for the to long side glances and stunted greetings. And Greg didn't give a DAMN. This was his statement, his opinion, and be damned what anyone else thought. He wasn't going to change just because it made them uncomfortable.

Greg moved with purpose, a determination that wouldn't be denied no matter if now some of those that had been watching his progress through the building since his first step. In his hands he held two items. They were what he was here to deliver. It was a bold move. One that he'd never be able to take back. He never wanted to. This was bigger than just him but he was here and he wasn't going to turn back.

The DNA analyst turned CSI stopped before the doors he had walked this whole way to get to and took a deep, steadying breath. Once he moved through them things would never be the same. He couldn't help but think that was perfect. He never wanted them to be. Not like it had been. . .never again.

He kicked the door open and straightened to his full height as he stalked into the room. He heard the gasps of surprise, the yells of "What the HELL is going on here?!", and even heard a couple expletives and derogatory statements flow from the lips of the men and women crowding in the rows of seats. He looked down his nose at them all and offered a self-deprecating smile. They weren't use to seeing him like this. . .or at all. But tonight they would.

"Sanders, what the HELL are you doing here?" Rory Atwater was up at the podium. Greg figured he was giving the officers at pep talk before sending them back out to man the 'battle' lines. There was a riot on the streets of Las Vegas after all.

For once Greg didn't let his annoyance with the Sheriff cloud his mind and force a sarcastic, but jovial, reply to fall from his lips. Instead he continued forward until he was standing just below the small raised platform where Atwater was now currently standing beside the podium with his hands on his hips. He sneered down at the former lab technician.

Greg didn't mind that, not after what he'd spent the last twelve hours going through. He lifted the first arm up high, stretching his filthy blood covered hand towards the bane of the lab with a bland smile and cold eyes. A shirt hung loosely there. At one time it had been blue. . .at one time it had been blue.

Rory narrowed his eyes after the initial widening from the shock of what he was being offered. "What's this? Why isn't it in a bag?"

"It's not evidence." He replied evenly and waited, hand still offering and the Sheriff still looking at him like he was insane.

"Why've you brought me a bloody shirt then? And what the hell happened to you?"

Greg lifted his other hand, but this time he drew it back and threw something at Atwater that had the man diving to the side. There was a loud thump and a metal's clinking chime as the item bounced off the back wall and hit the floor. When it stopped Rory noted that it was a ring, large and silver, and blood crusted.

Greg turned to leave. But was stopped by a roar from the podium.

"God damn it, Sanders! What the HELL is going on?!"

The first tears started to fall as the young man swung around to growl at the room in general. His eyes flared with an emotion he never liked. Twin orbs took in the room, sweeping it, repelling it.

Bastards.

"To Protect and Serve, that's what you're supposed to do. To Protect and Serve." Greg's voice cracked with emotion. He closed his mouth and shook his head roughly, swiping angrily at the tears on his dirtied cheeks. "Fifteen years old and he wasn't good enough to be protected. Dragged through the street and beaten every step of the way. Why? WHY?!"

"I'll tell you why. Because he was a FUCKING GAY. One of those unclean, AIDS filled homosexuals. Fifteen years old."

Greg wiped at his mouth and scrubbed at his eyes. He didn't need to be here, didn't want to stay any longer. He felt sick and knew that he wasn't going to last much longer. He let his shoulders slump and the fatigue show through as he turned to walk back the way he'd come, sure that there would be more than whispers following his progress.

"It's not wrong or unholy or unclean. It's love. Plain and simple it's just love. This didn't start out as a riot, Atwater, this started off as a simple declaration, a celebration. Those people out there on the streets weren't afraid; they were there. It's the people that showed up with shotguns and baseball bats that were scared."

As childish as it seemed, he wanted to spit at them, but he had more respect for the job than they probably had for his life, his choices. Greg started out the door and raised his voice.

"The badge doesn't give anyone the right to choose just who you Protect and Serve."

Nick was waiting for him at the hospital. His sweet natured boyfriend was waiting with the boy's partner. He wanted to be there when everything fell apart because both he and Greg knew the kid wasn't going to make it. He'd been far to gone at the scene.

God. . .if he made it out of the police station and home in one piece maybe, just maybe, he'd survive. He wouldn't like it and the nightmares would probably rob him of sleep for a couple months but he'd survive.

He had Nick there to help him.

***