It's Never Easy

I honestly have no idea where this came from. I just kinda got the idea and jumped on it. It might have come from some late night cuddling with my baby, Cooper. Then again, he also jumps on me at four in the morning just for fun.

Anyway, I've had this written for a little while and was just waiting for the courage to post it. I also have another story (Not a fanfiction, just a story) that I would love for someone to read for me, if anyone wants to. It's kinda sad, and it's kinda about me, but not really (the me part. It's actually pretty depressing). And there's a little Morganders at the end.

I'll let you read now. Also, this is going with the assumption that Greg is early to mid-thirties.

Fresh from the desk of a twelfth grade nothing.

Enjoy!

When Greg called in and said he couldn't come in, Russell was a little worried. Had it been any other member of the team, he wouldn't have thought anything of it. But Greg only took days off when he was really sick or if something was really wrong. He had just decided to check on him at the end of shift when Nick walked in.

"Where's Greg? I thought tomorrow was his day off?" Nick loved when he got to work with his little brother, so, of course, he noticed that Greg wasn't there, right off the bat.

"He called in sick." Russell shrugged, trying to make it look like he wasn't worried.

"Is he okay?"

"He muttered something about helping someone named Grant."

"Grant who?" Sara asked, entering the office.

"Greg mentioned someone named Grant," Nick answered, "when he called in sick."
"You don't think it's –" She cut herself off by covering her mouth with her hand.

"He is getting pretty old." Nick shrugged, looking sad now.

"Who is Grant?" Russell asked, wondering what loop he was left out of that Greg's older 'siblings' were in.

"Greg's dog." Sara informed him. "Ulysses S. Grant."

"Greg's had him for nineteen years now." Nick added.

"And the average lifespan for his breed is only twelve to fifteen years." Sara nodded. "He loves that dog like family."

"He named his dog after a civil war general?" Russell asked.
"He loves history, remember?" Nick smiled a little.
"Oh, God, Nick, what if he had to put Grant down?" Sara asked.
"I hope not." Nick said.

"I'll check up on him." Russell said. "You two have a case." He handed them a slip of paper and they shared a concerned look before heading towards the parking lot.

When Russell got to Greg's house, everything seemed normal. He went up to try the door, but it was locked. He rang the doorbell, but no one answered. The garage door was down and he had hoped that Greg's car was just inside, but it seemed as though he wasn't home. It would be nearly impossible to find him without causing any trouble, and Russell wanted to keep this on the down low. He pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Sanders." His voice was controlled, carefully measured so that no emotions leaked into his tone.

"Greg, where are you?" Russell asked gently. He was answered with silence.

"I'm at a veterinarian clinic." He finally responded.
"Greg?" Russell asked.

"Yeah?" His voice was still devoid of emotion.
"I'm on my way."

"Okay." Greg hung up and Russell got into his car. He headed across town to the Desert Inn Animal Hospital.

He got there in a little over ten minutes and managed to bribe the secretary so as to get into the next room. He looked through the window and saw Greg sitting cross legged on the floor. He was wearing jeans and a grey sweatshirt. There was a large, black and grey dog that looked similar to a husky, but a little bigger, laying with its head and front paws in Greg's lap. Greg was running his hand through the thick fur and whispering something to the dog that Russell couldn't make out. When he looked a little closer, he saw that tears were streaming down Greg's face. The dog was just lying there with its tail wagging slowly. It had silver flecks around its dark muzzle and its dark brown eyes were tired. The dog – Grant, he supposed – lifted its head and pressed its muzzle to Greg's neck. Greg kissed its head; it looked like they were saying goodbye. Russell could almost feel his heart breaking at the sight. He saw Greg bury his face in the dog's neck fur as Grant licked Greg's neck and cheek. Russell saw a doctor come in and have a small conversation – only a couple of sentences – with Greg before picking up a needle and giving the dog the shot. The doctor left the room, allowing Greg to say his final goodbye. Russell stepped closer so that he could hear it.

"Jeg elsker deg." He whispered. Grant's tail wagged one more before he closed his eyes and was still. Tears continued to slide down Greg's face and into the dog's fur.

"Goodbye, old friend." He whispered in a heart-wrenching, broken tone. In that moment, he wasn't anything more than a boy who had just lost his best friend. Russell walked up to him and sat down beside Greg, putting his hand on his shoulder. Greg looked at him with tear filled eyes,

How can everything be okay now?

Russell didn't know what to say. A nurse came in and asked if he was ready. Greg nodded that he was and the doctor came back in. they took Grant away. Greg and Russell stood up but Russell kept his hand on Greg's shoulder. He pulled Greg into a hug and held him, waiting for the tremors coursing through the younger man's body to stop. He rubbed Greg's back and reflected on the fact that he'd never seen his young friend this vulnerable. He had seen Greg happy, upset, excited, tired, and other similar emotions that people go through – hell, he'd seen Greg pissed off before – but he'd never seen Greg so devastated, so broken, until now.

"It'll be okay, son." He said, comforting his adoptive son. Greg was family, and he had been like a rock when Katie had been kidnapped. He had stood tall and strong and done everything he could to bring her home. Russell highly suspected that he had always supported his family in such a manner. He deserved to have his family be there for him like that too. After a few more moments, he pulled away.

"Sorry." He said quietly.

"Don't even worry about it." Russell told him. "Nineteen years?"
"Yeah." Greg gave a bitter laugh. "He was the only support I had on more than one occasion."

"Dogs tend to be good when it comes to support." Russell nodded.

"He was there after all the tough cases." Greg said. His arms were wrapped around his midsection and, again, he looked like a scared, lost, little boy. "The first time I worked a child rape case; I went home and threw up. I don't remember much after that because I tried to drink all the alcohol in my apartment. I do remember Grant pulling the bottle out of my hand and curling up beside me on the couch." He told Russell.

"Sounds like he was a good friend."
"He always understood when something was bugging me." Greg nodded. "He's been my best friend since I was fifteen years old." Greg sighed, his eyes filling with tears again. "How am I supposed to just let that go?" Russell didn't know how to reassure the young man; his parents had never let him have a dog in the van.
"I have to come back tomorrow to pick up his ashes." Greg said softly. Russell squeezed his shoulder.
"I'll come with you." He said. Greg nodded absentmindedly, staring at the door Grant had disappeared behind. They walked out towards the parking lot.
"So what kind of dog was he?" Russell asked.
"Norwegian Elkhound." Greg said. "We used to hike all the time when I went to visit family in Norway."

"You have family in Norway?"

"Mhm." Greg nodded again. "Then Grant started getting older, so we stopped hiking and just went for walks around town."
"Do you have any other dogs?" Russell asked.
"Yeah, Lee's at home."
"Wait a minute." Russell smiled. "Grant and Lee?" He asked. "As in, both major Civil War generals?"

"Yeah." Greg gave a small smile.

"Is he also an Elkhound?"

"Nah, he's a Lundehund." Greg slipped his hands in his pockets. "I got him a few years ago." The got to Greg's car.

"Are you gonna be okay?"

"I'll be fine." Greg said.

"Then I'll pick you up tomorrow." Greg nodded in agreement and got into his car, a '68 Ford Mustang painted white with black Shelby stripes. He watched as Greg pulled out of the parking lot and headed home. Russell watched the car until he could no longer hear the rumble of its engine and could no longer see it. He knew it was never easy to lose a pet, but he knew that Greg would be okay. He had his family to support him and he knew he could count on them.

A few months later

Greg knew that Nick was behind this. Nick knew how much Greg tried to ignore his birthdays, how much he tried to ignore the fact that he was another year older, and yet he was still up to something. Everyone had been acting weird all day and Greg just knew that his older brother was behind it. He had gotten a text from Russell that said to meet him in his office, but Greg couldn't shake that little feeling that was saying that everyone else was also waiting behind the door. Russell's door was closed, which was an oddity in itself. He knocked first – his mother had raised him with manners, however much he had protested having to learn them – and heard a voice call for him to come in. he opened the door just as the light switch was turned on.

"Surprise!" His team yelled. He smiled and shook his head at their antics.

"Now, I know you don't like making a big deal outta your birthday, but I thought you could make an exception for once." Nick said, putting his hand on Greg's shoulder.
"Nick –" Greg started to protest.
"We all chipped in for a gift." Sara told him, interrupting his almost rant.

"You really didn't have to." He shook his head again.

"We wanted to." Russell grinned. Finn reached behind his desk.

"Close your eyes!" Morgan said, punching him gently in the arm.

"Ow, fine." He agreed. His eyes snapped open, however, when he felt a small wet tongue on his cheek. His eyes immediately went to the wiggling bundle of brown fur that Finn was holding next to his face. The puppy was a hound dog; it had long floppy ears and was completely brown save for the white tip to his long tail.
"He's had all of his shots and is semi-potty trained." Finn said. "We even picked out a name for him that he already responds to!" She grinned. "I think you'll agree that it's a great name."

"Please tell me it's not Grissom or anything else that Nick picked out." Greg joked, absentmindedly stroking the dog behind its ears.
"Hey!" Nick said, pretending to be offended. "I resent that!"

"It's Stonewall." Morgan laughed triumphantly. Greg laughed too.

"That is great." He agreed. Finn thrust Stonewall into his arms. The puppy immediately started licking his neck and chin, recognizing that Greg was his new best friend. Greg laughed again at the dog's excitement.
"Look, he loves you already!" Sara told him. "You can't possibly tell me that you don't want him."

"Yeah!" Nick put in. "Look at the little guy!" Greg looked at the little, brown hound in his arms. He sighed and couldn't keep the grin off of his face.

"Well…I guess the house has been a little lately." He sighed. He scratched behind its ears again and the little dog's tail wagged. Not one person missed the little smile this action elicited. He looked over at Russell.

"Your idea?" He asked.
"More like my suggestion." Russell laughed. "Happy birthday, Greg." The young man smiled and stroked the happy little dog in his arms before he said something that only Russell heard.

"First I've had in a while."

He walked away as he noticed Morgan coming closer to Greg. He didn't hear what they said to each other but he did see Greg blush as Morgan whispered something in his ear. He couldn't keep the smile off his face. The two of them laughed and she scratched Stonewall under his chin, making him yawn. For the rest of their small party, she stayed right by his side. When it came time to go, they left together. Russell laughed to himself as he thought about that little dog and how it might have changed more than one life for the better already.

Fin

Okay, so, my dog is a hound dog, he's part red tick hound, and I couldn't resist. Also, puppies make everything better. I'm gonna be honest, I cried as I wrote the part where Grant died. I remember sobbing when my grandfather's chocolate lab, Molly, died. He kept her cage where it was and put a little stuffed chocolate lab in it instead.

Anyway, my puppy is adorable so I couldn't resist making Stonewall a hound.

And for those of you who don't know, that's a reference to the confederate general Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson who was one of the most gifted tactical commanders in U.S. history. He earned his nickname at the First Battle of Bull Run where his troops stopped a Union assault even though they suffered more casualties than the Union. Another general shouted that he was standing there like a stone wall and the name stuck.

I'm a history buff.

Don't mess with me about this stuff.

I'll argue you to death.

I also live near a major Civil War battleground.

Rawr.

Now that my history lesson is done…

Until next time!