"That's great.  Thanks, Catherine." I say my goodbye and she retorts with her own.  I always knew I liked her – she can be a bitch, but she's still nice to me and that's something.

-*-*-

            Catherine raps on my door lightly, testing the waters, then knocks harder, "Greg." Her voice is soft and tired.

            Evdokia opens the wooden barrier, as I search beneath my couch for my missing shoe, "He's almost ready." My sister informs her with a wry smile and a dry laugh.

            "What'd you lose, Greggo?"

            "My shoe." I reply, when my fingers hit the sole of the item, "There you are, you little bastard!" I retrieve it from its hiding place and pull it on, triumphant.  Instead of rising from the floor, I turn to face my blonde coworker, "I'm ready when you are."

            She grins, "Let's go.  Grissom's already got something waiting for you at the lab.  From what he said, it's probably extremely important."

            My features contort, my old immediate persona trying to emerge against my will, but I am victorious, "Sounds good to me." The smile is genuine and I can tell that she's a little confused.

            "Okey-dokey."

            And without a second thought, I stand and follow her out, refusing to look at my sister as I exit to the black Tahoe parked at my curb.  The interior smells of chocolate and peanut butter, M&M's scattered throughout the backseat.  The mark of a child's existence.

            Like years ago when I made my first road trip to Vegas with seven-year old Nikolai and nine-year old Peter in the backseat, while I, at eighteen, tried to not jump out of my skin every time a glob of marshmallow fluff hit the windshield.  Parked in the hotel parking lot because I would not valet the car in its condition, I remember yelling, speech peppered with Russian and Norwegian, wielding cleaning supplies and rags, hoping that grape jelly didn't stain.  Nikolai, halfway through my tirade, wrapped his arms around me, and whispered, "I love you, Luka." in that child's voice I couldn't deny.

            I laugh in the wake of that memory.

            Catherine stares at me, a weary glance as though trying to judge if I have lost my fucking mind.  (Too late.  I lost it a long time ago…back when I thought I could save my family.)

            So I choose to calm her fears, "I'm alright.  Lindsay's wake of destruction reminds me of my brothers."

            "Oh." She nods and lets out a silent snort, before removing her vehicle and heading for our place of employment, "Lindsay wants to know if she can come to your house one day.  She said you told her about your skill with a piano and that you promised to teach her."

            I did?  Oh…yeah.  I promised the little munchkin the last time I saw her.  Before the crash.  Before people started pushing their way into my life without permission.

            "It's okay with me.  Just gimme a few more days to heal up and then Linds can come wreck the place."

            The car pulls off the main road and into the lot, into the space marked 'C. Willows' near the door.  I disembark and notice immediately that my own car is sitting in it's customary place – second row, fourth in from the left.  It's badly banged up; dents in all four doors, the trunk now non-existent, and the hood crushed in.  It's missing three of the four hubcaps and the front left wheel is gone completely.  The back windshield is shattered, while the front one has an outward, circular, spider-web pattern.

            "We were called to the accident because no one could figure out who was the negligent driver.  We knew it was your car the minute we saw it." She sighs, "Sara saw where your head hit the glass and Grissom nearly had to send her home."

            "I don't remember too much about what happened.  I spun out because I couldn't maintain traction, ended up in oncoming traffic.  There was an SUV and then nothing."

            She bobs her head, "You hit your head pretty hard, Greg.  Most people lose a few minutes of memory after an injury like that.  Hell, first report we got was from the EMTs who both swore that they didn't think you were going to wake up at all."

            My hand lands on my scalp, where there are stitches holding the skin together.  Once the doctors talked with Grissom, they realized I was a hemophiliac – when sent them on suture mode.  Claire Dean later told me that she had eight different nurses sewing me up while she sped up her actions to alleviate the pain within my abdomen.  Four pints of blood was emptied into me in an hour long period.

            I still have bruises that are achy, but I've learned to live with the pain, "Yeah.  I figured as much."

            "You alright?"

            "Uh huh.  Just a little tired still."

            She pats my shoulder, "Well, I'm glad you're back.  This other guy they brought in can't make heads or tails of the evidence we give him.  We're still trying to figure out how he got hired."

            "Probably banging Eckley." I say nonchalant, but that evil grin I've acquired after years of watching suspects while they are questioned by the CSIs and various detectives has appeared on my lips.

            Catherine laughs, then laughs harder, "You…Oh, Greg…you're probably right!" She manages to get herself under control and flashes one of her infamous smiles, "Come on.  I told the rest of them that I was picking you up and there was immediate talk of parties."

            I groan.

            Parties.  I'm not a big fan of them anymore.

            "I made them promise if they decided on one that they'd have to keep it small.  Besides, they've only had about twenty-five minutes." She says, as though they've never pulled together to do something in that amount of time before.

            We stroll through the open door; past the receptionist who smiles and greets me, even though she's never done that before.  Into the break room, where Warrick, Nick, Grissom, Archie, Lindsay, and several others are standing with a chocolate layer cake and a couple bottles of soda.

            "I thought you weren't involved." I state, venomous, but it's washed away when I hug her, "It's not bad." I'm suddenly enclosed in a pair of skinny, feminine arms, "Hey, you."

            Little Willows leaps up, "I missed you!" Squeezes my chest tight, taking all the air out of me.
            "I missed you, too!" I spirit out, against the wringing in my heart and the burning in my lungs.

            "Lindsay!  Let go of Greg!"

            As she relinquishes her hold on me, I shake my head, "It's okay, Catherine.  She's just happy to see me."

            "We all are, man.  I swear there a couple minutes there I really didn't know if you were gonna make it.  But I should've known that you're too strong to give up." Nick slaps me on the back, and grins idiotically.

            Is that supposed to mean something to me?  Should I be glad that they've decided to see that I am human and not a lab rat?