Disclaimer: Dont own squat, simple as that. You know who owns them (the people at CBS...)

A/N: Hey everyone, this is my second story, please review and let me know if there is anything that I can do to make it better. I was also wondering if I should make another chapter with Greg talking to Grissom or something, or if I should just keep this as a one time thing. Please let me know! You can e-mail me instead of putting it in the review if thats easier for you. Well, I hope you like it, it's Greg angst, so you should like it if you like Greg angst, of course I dont know how good my own writing is, thats why I need reviews. That was kinda of a long sentence wasn't it? Anyhoo, read, review, and enjoy!

I don't like the new lab. It is too small, it is too clean, and it is too lonely. Everything is new and sterile; some things are from the old lab, but just the things that didn't get ruined in the explosion. I thought I would be ready to go back to work, that I would have no problem adjusting, that I would be back to my old self in no time, I was wrong. Anytime somebody comes into the lab and opens the door, it sounds like an explosion, I jump, and the person asks if I'm ok. I say yes, only because I don't want any more attention than I already have, but the truth is I'm not. I'm scared to be at work, I'm scared to be at home, I'm scared to be anywhere. I know that it will eventually go away, but why can't it go away sooner. If I caused the explosion then I could blame myself and I would feel better, but I don't want to blame Catherine. She was so nice to me, maybe only because she felt guilty, but she has always been nice to me. I respect what she did; telling me herself, it must have not been too easy. I also don't want to get mad at her because things haven't been that good for her lately also, with Eddie and her daughter; that must be hard. The door just opened, I jumped, only to receive a concerned look from my supervisor.

"You rang?"

I am still shaky, but I answer. I just hope that he cant see my hands shaking uncontrollably.

"Uh, yeah. The, uh ... blood flecks from the safe deposit box—two distinct samples. I only got one hit though." I pick up the test results, my hands noticeably shaking, but Grissom takes out his glasses and puts them on, and doesn't notice them, not yet.

"Uh, the primary sample belongs to Vivian Verona, a cocktail waitress. She was killed on the top floor of the old pike's gambling hall about two years ago. Here's the report." Grissom takes the sheet of paper from me and looks it over.

"Multiple puncture wounds, different depths, possibly two knives..."

"I've pulled the crime scene photos for you, too." I hand Grissom the photos and he takes them willingly. He seemed pleased that I got those for him. That made me feel a little less nervous.

"Case still pending. Murder weapon was never found. Now, the secondary blood sample came back N.D. Uh, could be the killer. You always say murder's messy." I hold out the second test results in my hands, almost forgetting about the shaking because of my last attempt at humor so Grissom would not be concerned or try to talk to me about anything. I should have remembered about my hands because Grissom had still not taken the test results from me; instead they were in my shaking hands, my shaking hands that Grissom was looking at. I was thankful when he finally took them, but not thankful about what happened next.

"Greg, your hands are shaking." Damn.

"No, they're not." I thought I'd say this hoping that Grissom would take the hint that I didn't want to talk about it, but of course him, being Grissom, would not just let it go.

"Hold your hands out." Grissom said this taking the paper away from me, only to reveal my hands, which at this point looked as if they were set on vibrate. I figure that there is no way I can convince him that they are not shaking because they are displayed for him in front of me, and denying that would only be stupid.

"Uh ... they've been shaking ever since ..." I glance at the old lab, the one that I was thrown out of the window from. The one that I have spent my many hours in, working. I have always taken working in the lab for granted, I never really thought of something like that happening. Now that it has, though, it is the only thing that I can think about. I start to think about the men in there who are cleaning it up, they have no idea what happened in there. They have no idea how scary that lab looked just a short while ago. The fire, the smoke, the glass, they have no idea. I then drift back into the real world and notice that Grissom is still standing there, apparently waiting for me to ay something.

"I can't really make it stop." I thought I'd state the obvious, why not?

"Is it affecting your work?" That was Grissom being Grissom, always wondering about work. Of course he had no real feelings, at least no feeling that he showed anyone. I really think, though, that he is just afraid to show them so he just relates everything to work. I kind of feel bad for the guy though, being scared to show emotion, that would be horrible.

"Well, if I was a bomb expert, maybe." I thought I'd try some humor to lighten the mood, when I realize that I am the only one laughing I feel bad. Grissom has a slightly dissatisfied look on his face, like I can't be serious for even a minute, like everything is just one big game to me. If only he knew what I really feel like, but I don't think I'll tell anyone about that, not even Nick.

"No, I ... I think I have it under control." I try to put a serious expression on my face so Grissom won't think that I'm just one big goof. It seemed to work because his expression had softened into a more sympathetic look.

"It'll stop. If you need me, I'll be around."

"Okay." Grissom leaves the lab, I was thankful for that, but also for what he told me. That was probably the most emotion that I had even seen him show. Even if it was just a little bit, it still meant a lot to me. I am now looking at my hands, disappointed, yet grateful. I curl them into fists, hoping that that will stop them shaking for a little while; I hope that they stop before anyone else notices. I am frustrated and disappointed at the same time among other things, I just want to go home, get in bed, go to sleep, and never wake up. I have never wanted to be here in this position, and now that I am, I wish I wasn't. Maybe I will talk to Grissom...maybe.